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“So you guys were friends, then.”
“But they're his boys, right?”
“Is he your ex?”
I took another big, luscious sip of my cappuccino.Why did I think they were going to be any different from the superficial, gossip-filled girls at college?I was going to have to tell this story the way it happened if I wanted them to stop prying. And it was going to be embarrassing, but I was going to do it anyway.
“No,” I said, putting my cup down and meeting the eye of the woman who had asked. “We were strangers, and hooked up for one night. Our birth control failed. I didn’t want to burden him with kids he didn’t sign up for, but I called him when I realized I couldn’t swing it on my own. He drove to New Jersey to pick me up and move me back here with him.”
I was met with silence and a few raised eyebrows. One woman pulled her lips into her mouth and looked at her hands. Based on the reactions around the room, they were more embarrassed than I was.
Well, that’s what you get for prying, I guess.
“I’ll go back to school when the boys are old enough to go to daycare,” I continued, taking my coffee cup again, refusing to be embarrassed. Maybe they were judging me, but it didn’t really matter. Maybe I'd come here looking for friends, but these weren't the ones I would be spending time with. I could feel my defenses going up.
“You… were in college?”
“freshman,” I said. “The boys were born a week after my last final ended. So at least I have a year under my belt.”
“So, you guys didn’t know each other at all, and he just… let you move in with him?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s taking care of you and the twins.”
“Yes.”
“And you two aren’t… together?”
“You mean, are we having sex? No. I cook and keep the house and care for the boys. He works, and he gave me a credit card to buy what I need to take care of the four of us. We’re more like… roommates.”
“Wow,” one of the older women said, raising an eyebrow. “He helps around the house and deals with the kids after work? Yournot-husbandsounds like a better deal than myactualhusband.”
A few people laughed or nodded in agreement, and I watched her as she rocked her own baby. She seemed serious about her comment.
With some surprise, I realized she meant it. And that was disconcerting, and a little depressing. It reminded me of what my father had said, about being stuck with someone.
My parents may have been in love when they married, but now they barely tolerated each other. Growing up, I'd always hoped I'd find a partner in life who would be a friend to me, and a loving father to my future children. But how many people kept that spark alive? Was it even worth hoping to find it? Based on the gossip and complaints I'd heard from the other ladies today, it seemed to be the norm to get hitched, and then find yourself stuck and unhappy.
But in my current situation, I didn't have that. Andrew and I were a mostly functional team. We did our jobs, we filled our roles, and we were both taken care of with help and support from each other. Wasn't that more than most of these other women had in their seemingly love-based marriages?
Was it wrong that I still wanted to find someone who would fall in love with me? Even if one day I was one of them, frustrated with my husband, or at least pretending to be for the attention, I still wanted to meet someone who would love me, and my boys, enough to give me their heart and their last name.
The gossip shifted to another victim. I settled back in my chair and tried to relax, wondering when I could make my escape. There still seemed to be some tension floating in the air, and some people wouldn’t look at me. Especially Julie, who was being very careful to look at the girl a few seats from me, but not let her eyes flick my way.After another twenty minutes, people started to disperse, and I gathered the boys in their carrier car seats, getting ready to leave.
A young woman approached me, offering to help carry one of the boys so I could carry the other. “I'm Elizabeth,” she smiled. “Here, I have an extra hand. Bradley, come here,” she called to one of her children. “Come carry the blanket.”
Outside the café, she sighed in relief. “I always hate when they whine about their men,” she said. “Not all husbands are useless, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” I smiled.
“Nope. Mine is a trooper. Brad is our third, and Phil has been amazing.”
Well at least some of us get happy endings,I thought.
I started the car and pumped up the heat while I buckled the car seats in. I wasn't sure what made me open up, but Elizabeth's rebuttal to the other women's gossip seemed authentic. And I appreciated honesty.
“I guess… I always hoped I'd find someone I could be in love with for the rest of my life. And hearing them say that stuff made me wonder if that's even possible.”
