Then I set the bench down.
She blinked. "What?—"
"You in a hurry?" I said.
"I—what?"
"To get pregnant." I leaned back against the counter and looked at her. “Don’t get me wrong, darlin’; I’m happy to truss you up and breed you whenever your little heart desires…but are you in a hurry for it to be done?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it. "I'm not—I'm trying to optimize?—"
"I know what you're trying to do." I crossed my arms. "I'm asking why you're trying to do it faster."
She looked at the bench. Looked at me. Something shifted in her expression—the defensive thing dropping away, something more honest underneath it.
"I'm not trying to do it faster," she said, carefully. "I just—I want to make sure we're being thorough."
"We've been thorough every day this week."
"I know that."
"Five timeson Wednesday."
She went pink. "I'm aware."
"So what's the rush."
She didn't answer right away. Picked up the silicone cup and turned it in her hands, not looking at me.
"What happens after?" she said finally.
There it was.
She kept going.
"When it works." She set the cup down. "The arrangement was—get pregnant, stay through the pregnancy, you get your heir, Arlo loses his claim. That's what we agreed to." She looked up. "We didn't talk about after. And now it's been ten days and I've had breakfast with your mother every morning and your dad told me yesterday that the creek light at dusk is my color, whatever that means?—"
"It means he's adopted you," I said.
"Gage."
"I know," I said. "Keep going."
She was quiet for a moment. Outside I could hear Loretta making her feelings known about something. The afternoon light was coming through the kitchen window thick and gold.
"If I get pregnant," she said, "does this—" she gestured between us "—stop? Because there's no reason for it anymore?"
I looked at her steadily. "Do you want it to stop?"
"I asked you first."
"I know," I said. "I'm asking you anyway."
She looked at the bench. Looked at the window. Looked at her hands.
"No," she said. Quiet. "I don't want it to stop." A pause, smaller. "I don't want any of it to stop. The breakfast and the lunches and Haven and your dad and Dolly and—all of it." She stopped. "I know that's not what we agreed to."
"It's not," I said.
