CHAPTER9
‘And then I heard his voice over the intercom and he asked me to marry him,’ I’d just finished the story again, and Larissa and her wife, Jules, smiled at me.
‘And do you plan on having any kids?’ Jules asked.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ Andrew said. ‘We both want at least four kids. Isn’t that right, lovie?’
I forced a smile. He was still playing it up, maybe even more so this time, with all the pet names and hand-holding. And each time we talked to someone else, he added a new future child to our family. We’d started out with one – apparently Andrew had always wanted a son – and now we were going for a soccer team.
‘Let me show you ours, she’s only three months,’ Larissa said, pulling her phone out and turning the screen on. She held up an image of a toddler with her blue eyes. I leaned in, because it was the polite thing to do. Honestly, I never knew what to say when people showed me pictures of their kids. I have absolutely zero interest in seeing other people’s children; it just does not appeal to me at all. And all babies look the same. I would have preferred it much more if I was looking at a picture of a Labrador puppy, or a kitten or cockatoo. Preferably all of them together.
‘Isn’t she cute?’ Larissa asked the dreaded question.
‘Mmmm,’ I said, nodding vigorously. There wasn’t much to see really: the child had its entire fist in its mouth and drool was dripping down its arm and chin. ‘She has your eyes,’ I stated. Thiswastrue.
The two of them smiled. Clearly my statement had landed with them in the right way.
‘Thank you,’ Larissa said. ‘Jules is going to do the pregnancy next time round. I hated being pregnant.’
‘Having two wombs in the family has its advantages,’ Jules added, and this got me thinking.
Questions began flooding my brain. Will the fathers be the same? Did you use an anonymous donor’s sperm? How did you choose the father? How long did it take to become pregnant? Was it IUI or IVF? I kept my lips tightly closed though. I knew from past experiences – many, many past experiences – that even though these were legitimate questions, it was not always good to ask them.
‘It’s not always appropriate to ask the first question that comes into your mind,’ I could hear my mom saying after an incident in a shopping queue in which I’d asked the man standing in front of me with only one arm how he’d lost it and had it hurt. To me they were perfectly logical questions, but apparently that wasn’t the point. The point was, it could cause offence.
We moved on from the baby photo. We told our story again to someone else, and this time it led to us having five kids. Andrew had always wanted twins now too. He upgraded the lie even more when he added two cocker spaniels and a parakeet who could repeat basic ATC commands like ‘You are cleared to land on runway zero seven left.’
‘You guys make such a gorgeous couple,’ Sindiso had said. She was in her residency to become an orthopaedic surgeon, and on her arm was the most beautiful Italian man – almost as beautiful as Andrew – also in his residency to become a neurosurgeon. They were planning on getting married after they’d completed their residencies. She had always wanted a big traditional wedding. I told her that I too had dreamed of a traditional wedding.
‘What tradition exactly?’ she asked, and I realized my faux pas. She was referring to arealtraditional wedding, a Zulu wedding.
‘Irish!’ I said quickly, surprised at how speedily the lie had managed to come out of my mouth. It was a semi-truth, though.
‘I’ll have to wear a kilt and we’ll walk down the aisle to the melodic sounds of the wedding march played on bagpipes,’ Andrew colored the story in.
I nodded and smiled. ‘And I’ll have to carry a horseshoe with me all day. It brings good luck.’
‘Photo time!’ someone exclaimed loudly, and jumped in front of us with a cell phone.
‘Uh . . . No, thank you!’ I hated having my photo taken. I never knew how to stand, where to look, what to do with my arms or how wide to smile.
‘You have to!’ She was insistent, brandishing the phone around as if she might cause someone a concussion. ‘You guys look stunning together.’
The word hit me like a ten-tonne truck again. I hated repetition. I hated hearing the same word or sound over and over again. It grated on my senses. It made my skin itch and I just couldn’t help it.
‘I think we look resplendent, actually!’
‘Oh my God, you do!’ the phone-wielder said. ‘That’s why Imusthave a photo of the splendid couple.’
‘Resplendent,’ I corrected her.
‘Exactly! Now put your arm around him. Move closer, closer . . . come on now, closer.’ She waved her hand at us, and I shuffled towards Andrew.
‘Put your arm around her,’ she called, and I heard Andrew ask if it was okay from next to me. I nodded and readied myself for the feel of his arm. His arm slinked around my waist, and I wondered where he was going to choose to settle his hand. On the small of my back? My waist? His arm stopped slinking and I waited for the hand to connect, only it didn’t.
‘Where should I put my hand?’ he whispered through gritted teeth.
‘I don’t know. You choose.’
