Page 117 of Taking Turns

“OK,” he says. “You can look now.”

I get a little nervous as I open up the napkin flap. In black marker it says, What will it take?

I look at him. Back down at his message. Then at him again. “What will what take?” I ask.

“To make your dream come true.”

I sigh. “I already told Bric. I don’t know what my dream is.”

“How could you not know what you want out of life? You’re thirty years old. Surely you’ve felt disappointment and wanted more.”

“Of course,” I say, tasting his food. “Mmmm. This is good, Smith. You should have dinner waiting for me every night when I get home from work.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Is that what you want?”

“It was a sexist joke.” I laugh. “Role reversal and all that good shit?”

“But is it something you want?”

“A house husband? No. I can honestly say I’ve never wished for a house husband. The cleaning only turns me on if you never do it, then decide to do it to make me happy.” I wink at him, but he’s got a very serious look on his face. “What?”

“Do you see yourself with… a family?”

I just stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t think my question was cryptic.”

“Who would I want a family with?” I ask. He’s about to answer but I put up my hand. “No, wait. You asked, so I guess you’re really interested. I’ll answer you. The person I’m having a family with is the only thing that matters.”

“So you’d like to fall in love?”

“Of course,” I say, laughing. “Doesn’t everyone?”

He takes a sip of his champagne and then sets his glass down before answering. “I think most people would. At least when they’re young. I can imagine you get to an age where you don’t care anymore. But I don’t think thirty is that age.” He looks at me for a second. “I don’t think thirty-six is that age either.”

“You’re thirty-six,” I say.

“I know. I still want to find love.”

“I can’t picture you in love.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “This is a pretty intense conversation for Christmas Eve Eve, isn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t know, would you? You’ve never had a Christmas Eve Eve dinner before. Maybe this is what everyone does?”

“Or maybe you’re just being weird. Are we dating?”

“Are we?”

“Smith, stop it. If you’ve got something to say—”

“I do have something to say.”

“Then say it.” I’m kind of annoyed right now and I’m actually feeling bad for being annoyed, because he planned a night of lady porn for me while I was at work.

“Why are you here, Chella?”