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There will be a breakdown.
I’m prepared for one with Charlie. I’m not sure when it will happen, but it will come.
My phone buzzes. I check the text.
Iron Man. Batman. Thor. – Rose
The corners of my mouth rise at the Fuck, Marry, Kill question. I’m able to concentrate on both the class and the message without missing a moment.
I text: Are you asking for Lily or for yourself?
Rose and Lily are eating lunch at our house with the rest of the children while Ryke, Daisy, Sullivan, and Lo go hiking for the day. Ryke has an expensive backpack-carrier for Sullivan since she’d never be able to hike at her age.
Both, but it doesn’t go against our rules. You’re still required to answer, and answer truthfully, Richard. – Rose
“This is stupid,” Charlie says softly, but his focus is on his twin brother and his older sister. He can see, as well as I do, how nervous Beckett becomes by Jane disregarding the instructed moves in favor of her own.
“He’s okay, Charlie,” I whisper.
Charlie crosses his arms and sinks in his chair.
Rose and I agreed that our children could choose their hobbies, even “trial runs” to potentially see what they liked. If they’re in the hobby or sport for longer than a couple weeks, they have to provide a good reason for quitting. We want our children to finish tasks, not take an easy way out. With their level of privilege, this is extremely important to us.
Today is just the first day of pre-ballet class, and only Jane and Beckett hopped on the idea. Charlie declined but said he wanted to watch, not with the hope of eventually joining. I think he came to support his twin brother.
I find time to text Rose a response.
Marry. Fuck. Kill.
Marry Iron Man. Fuck Batman. Kill Thor.
Thor is ridiculous, and I don’t mean the Norse mythology. I mean the one played by an actor on a movie screen.
Rose is quick.
Of course you would marry Iron Man. He’s as egotistical as you are. – Rose
Another text.
Lily said you’re Batman, so you just fucked yourself, Richard. – Rose
I rub my lips, my grin escalating tenfold. I reply: I have good taste.
I have better taste – Rose
I type fast. You did choose me, so I think we can agree that we both have equally great taste when it comes to sex.
A pause before my phone buzzes.
Fine. We’re equals. It’s cemented. – Rose
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jane holding her feet and rocking.
“There she goes,” Charlie narrates.
Sure enough, Jane tumbles over her head and onto her bottom, a laugh widening her smile.
“Jane!” Madame Daphne scolds. “This isn’t gymnastics. We’re doing butterflies right now.” She snaps her fingers. “Back in the circle.”
Slowly, Jane scoots beside her brother. Beckett remains entirely rigid, certain pieces of his hair curlier, others just a little wavy, and he’s only one of two boys in the class. When we arrived, he never batted an eye at the fact.
Beckett suddenly looks to Charlie.
Charlie looks to me.
If they both choose ballet again, we’ll put Beckett in a different class from Jane. I want him to feel comfortable, but sometimes that comes from within.
“Il va bien,” I tell Charlie. He’s fine.
Beckett is enjoying the class, despite his sister’s nonchalance. Twice, he asked Madame Daphne, “Like this?” Just to ensure he’s doing the move correctly. When she praises his technique, he smiles.
Charlie lets out a puff of breath and scans the ballet room filled with floor-length mirrors and windows that overlook Manhattan.
My phone vibrates in my palm again.
I did something. – Rose
I stiffen.
I have to commit to this. I promised I would. – Rose
I’m as intrigued as I am confused. Details, darling. I press send.
Charlie’s demeanor suddenly changes beside me. He straightens and scoots closer to my chair. “Daddy…” His voice spikes just enough for me to catch his worry. My phone buzzes, but I can’t respond or look at the text.
I immediately follow his gaze to one of the mirrors. In the reflection, a woman cups her phone like she’s recording, but she’s not angled on the circle of children. The lens is pointed towards the mirror, directly at my reflection and Charlie’s.
I’m tall enough that I can see over each head of every woman. I stare directly at the one with a brunette bob and pearl earrings. Only four chairs away. She notices quickly and drops her phone to her lap. When she senses my gaze still on her, she swivels her head. “What?”
I don’t know if she plans to profit off us either financially or by social media notoriety or simply to just show her friends and family the footage. I have an issue, mostly, with the fact that my children haven’t consented to being filmed.
“Do you mind if my security team looks at your video footage before you leave?” My tone is extremely casual. I even offer a smile. “It’s just precaution. They won’t bite.” They will delete anything involving Charlie.
“Sure. Would I be able to get a picture with you before you leave?”
“Just of me, yes.”
She tries to relax her giddy smile before facing the children.
I text a member of my security team who waits outside with a few bodyguards, and I watch Charlie close his eyes in boredom.
I rub his shoulders and scroll through my missed messages.
I gave Lo permission to name our baby. (Only the first name, of course.) – Rose
I’m actually surprised, so much so that my grin overtakes my face.
He wrote down the name and gave it to Lily in an envelope. I can’t take back this promise. I’m about to open the envelope. I swear if he named him “Loren” I will stab Lo in the eye. – Rose
She included “knife” emoticons. I have to wait for her next text, but I think about how she said “he named him”—as in a boy.
We asked to see the gender of our baby this time. This will be our sixth child, and even I hoped for a girl. Not because I don’t want any more children. I do want more, but I know what it would mean to Ryke and Daisy for them to have another.
They’re both too selfless to ask about surrogacy. They’re both too kind to press Rose about the option. They only warmed up to the idea when they thought Rose might have a girl.
Then we all learned that there will be another Cobalt boy.
And they slammed the door shut to surrogacy faster and more forceful than I even expected.
Here I was wishing for an outcome for someone else. I wished my family ended so that theirs could grow. I rarely wish for anyone but me, and my wish didn’t come true.
Rose is still adamant about trying surrogacy, but we’re going to have a harder time convincing Ryke and Daisy now. Ryke is known to be stubborn. It’s like dragging a sitting dog by the leash. I’m not entirely sure he’ll budge.
I only worry about Rose’s health, but if she’s okay, if the doctors say yes, then I don’t see a reason not to try.
My phone vibrates. Rose sent a picture of the note in Lo’s handwriting:
Ben
*named for Ben Obi-Wan Kenobi who mentors Luke Skywalker
*he reminds me of Connor
*I could’ve made him Obi-Wan, Queen Rose, so put away your talons
*this means a lot, so…thanks
Ben.
My grin can’t be restrained at this point.
Another vibration.
He can live another day. – Rose
She loves the name too.
I never thought my choices would contain so much feeling but with each middle name, I only see fractions of logic. This name is melodically pleasant. And so on. And so forth. Most, I chose out of nostalgia, out of something heartfelt and visceral that can’t be described with numbers or bare facts.
I choose Pirrip, as in Philip Pirrip, from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.
I choose Pirrip as Ben’s middle name because I saw Rose reading that very novel when we were sixteen. She won’t remember because she never saw me. I passed her in the conference room lobby during Model UN. She sat straight as a board on the edge of the hotel’s lobby fountain, the book opened on her lap.
I wanted to stop and talk to her, but I was with three Faust boys. We pushed onward, and my head turned.
I had never looked back in that way before, but for the very first time, I did. I looked back, and I only looked back at her.
2022
“I spread wildfires everywhere I go. It’s a symptomatic quality of being me.”
