“Can I go first?”
“Should we maybe clean up first or…No, never mind. Go for it.”
Wren’s heart began pounding. This was so exciting! Like taking the risky path in a choose-your-own-adventure book that would almost certainly lead to your character’s demise but could ultimately unlock the happy ending with a bit of luck. A goose-bumpy thrill shot through her body. She dipped her fingers into the jar, felt the rough edges of the papers inside, slid past the top layer, and pressed in deeper. The pad of her middle finger touched one, and she couldn’t explain it, but it just felt right. Like this strip of paper was calling to her. Its face was smooth, its temperature a bit cooler than the others somehow. Yes, this was it. This was the thing that when she did it, she would feel like herself again. It would right the course of her entire life, and the rest of her bucket list would fall into place like dominoes. She would finally become the person she had always wanted to be. At the end, she would feel completely ready to tackle the greatest challenge of her life: motherhood. But first, this. She pulled it out, flipped the paper round so she could read it, and paused before she spoke.
“Come on, don’t tease me,” Arthur said. “What does it say?”
She frowned. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“What is it?”
She held it up so he could see. “Climb to the Top of Mount Everest.”
Arthur stifled a laugh. “Shall I check Google Flights for last-minute departures to Nepal?”
“Very funny. God, I was such a basic.” She was disappointed but not ready to give up so easily. She’d had this stroke of inspiration as a naive kid, back when climbing Everest wasn’t such a commodity. She’d since seen the lines of people—lines!—waiting to get a glimpse of the summit. No,thank you. “No problem. Mount Everest is played out anyway. I heard they’re thinking of putting in a gondola. We can do better.”
She reached back into the jar. No magical intuition this time; she just pinched the first strip of paper she could feel and pulled it out. Whatever it was, it was bound to be at least slightly more practical than summiting the tallest mountain in the world.
“Bungee Jump into an Active Volcano,” she read plainly.
Arthur winced. Wren sank at first, but maybe there was a way…
“Technically…” she began.
“No,” he said.
“If you think about it…”
“Don’t. Don’t even think about it.”
“Well then, I give up! I never would have gotten pregnant if I knew you weren’t allowed to volcano bungee!”
She huffed out of the room. Just needed a minute. Just needed to sit and collect her thoughts. In short, they were that this completely sucked. Why didn’t she think of this a year ago, two years ago? They had wasted so much time, and now it was too late. But maybe it didn’t matter. She hadn’t had the money for these things growing up, not in college, not as a young professional just trying to carve out a career and get by, and certainly not now. She would always wonder what could have been, what she’d missed out on. What kind of way was that to start their family? Would she always be bitter and resentful? She stared down at her belly and gave it a little rub. Would the baby know someday, be able to tell that her heart was never really in it, that she had settled down before she was really ready? More plainly, would it screw them up?Thirty years from now, would they be talking about their emotionally distant mother in expensive therapy sessions?
She felt the couch sink next to her. Arthur. He placed a warm arm around her and squeezed gently, calming her immediately. In his other hand, he offered her the jar.
“One more try? There’s got to be something in here we can do.”
“I’m not in the mood. This was all a terrible idea. Too little, too late.” She didn’t want to look at a jar ever again. Peanut butter? Out. Jelly? Good goddamn riddance. She vowed right then and there to not even leave a door ajar for as long as she lived, just out of spite.
Arthur wouldn’t give up so easily, though. He shook the jar playfully in front of her, rattling the pieces of paper inside.
“One more try and we’ll go to bed.”
She rolled her eyes, feigning resistance. In truth, she appreciated him. Her rock in moments like this. She reached back into the jar one more time and felt for a good one, whatever that meant, then pulled it out, unfolded it, and read it.
“Huh,” was all she could say.
6
Wren:Get on the Jumbotron at a Ravens Game
A few days later, theysat in the bland waiting room with opposing levels of patience. All the calming wall colors and Brookstone trickling desk fountains in the world couldn’t stop Wren’s leg from bouncing anxiously.
Arthur wore shorts, sensible sneakers, and a subtle purple shirt. Wren, to his left, wore a full Baltimore Ravens jersey with purple and gold beaded necklaces, full eye black, and tassels in her hair. A concerned-looking couple slunk through the waiting room and toward the exit, having just come from their own visit. Wren nodded solemnly to them, looking absolutely absurd in the process.
“You’re sure we can’t skip just this one?” Wren whispered to Arthur. “We’ve been waiting forever and we’re missing the tailgate.” She checked an imaginary watch on her wrist.
