“I think that’s called lazy.”
“Whatever. Boundaries and consequences are gross. I just hope they like me,” Wren said.
“Me too. But they have to respect you, too. It’s a tough balance.”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “Respect is overrated. If we like each other and we’re honest with each other I think everything will work out just fine.”
“OK.” Arthur paused. “Here’s a hypothetical. Baby’s old enough to sleep in a crib, in his own room, but he won’t stop crying—”
“Irrelevant. He can sleep with us forever,” Wren cut in. “I would literally love that.”
“Forever?”
“Forever!”
“Doesn’t it get weird at a certain age?” Arthur protested. “Also, I like to stretch out.”
“Families in other countries share beds all the time! It’s only weird because America is filled with uptight prudes.”
It occurred to Wren that this would have been a good conversation to have roughly seven years ago, before moving in together. But when were people meant to talk about this stuff, if not too late? Maybe it should be mandatory after the first time you slept with someone, she figured, just in case.That was fun, and also what are your thoughts on gentle parenting?
“I like that we’re different,” Wren said, as if cutting off her own internal argument. “It’s what makes us a good team.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Don’t you? You can be the cold, distant one who drives them into my warm, unconditionally loving arms. Yin and yang.”
“I am not cold and distant.”
“I’m just teasing,” she said. “You’re going to be amazing.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said. “And so are you.”
Another lull. They stared googly at each other in the complete dead silence of their bedroom. Somewhere in the background, Netflix wanted to know if they were still watching.
“Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said suddenly and without warning.
“Me too, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I keep waiting for the right opportunity,” Arthur said. “It’s about the house.”
“Oh, so is mine,” she said. “I guess I’ll go first.”
He nodded, as if offering her the floor.
“I know how excited you were about that house, or theidea of that house anyway, and how I kind of crapped on it. But I don’t think I did a good job explaining why.”
“Oh. OK. I’m listening.”
“I think I’m…afraid of who we’ll become if we live in a place like that.”
“I know,” he said. “You don’t want us to become obnoxious HOA people. I get it.”
“Not just that. We’ll never discover anything new there. We won’t find new coffee shops; we’ll just go to Starbucks. We’ll buy everything we need from Target and Amazon Prime. Go to the same park every weekend. Take trips to the same beach the same week as all our neighbors. I feel like I could map out the next thirty years of our lives and tell you every single thing that will happen.”
“I’ve never thought about it like that,” he said.
