Dear Blog
Today it started pouring rain. These past days the sky was grey and it kept looking as if it would rain, but in the end it would clear up and the sun would be out during the afternoon.
Today it rained all day. I stayed home to do some house work. My brother-in-law, Kurt, bought us an oil painting. It’s very abstract, just lines and dark colors like olive green, maroon, gold, and blue. It’s very interesting. I thought it would look nice in the office so I got out the step ladder, hammer and nails. Gerard was out visiting his father. I think his dad is going to lend him his lawn mower to cut the grass. (Although I don’t know why, because the grass is wet and it’s impossible to cut it now…) I think it’s great that they have a nice relationship. Gerard told me that for a couple years after his parents got divorced he didn’t have a very close relationship to his father. I think some of that strain in their relationship had to do with my father-in-law suspecting Gerry’s sexual orientation was “untraditional”. I think it’s great that they get along now.
I was in the office hanging the painting when I heard someone ring the door bell. I walked down to see who it was, I figured it was Gerry and that he’d forgotten his keys. However, when I opened the door I saw two big hazel eyes staring back at me; Bert. He was soaked to the bone and shivering.
“Bert!” I pulling him into the house. “You’re all wet! Why are you outside?”
“Hi. Mrs. V… My house is locked.” He looked up at me and then sneezed. I grabbed a towel from the half bathroom and wrapped it around him.
“Where are your parents?”
“They are out. They left me with Tanya, but she left. I was playing in the yard.”
Tanya, the maid? She left him outside?!!! Stupid girl!! I was so mad at their maid for leaving him unattended. I asked Bert if he knew his parents cel-phone numbers, but he didn’t. The numbers were in his notebook, that was in his house. He couldn’t offer me much more information so I didn’t ask. My priority was to get him out of his wet cloths.
I dried him off as best as I could with the towel and took him to the guest bedroom. I grabbed Gerry’s old bathrobe. I turned the shower on and told Bert to get in under the warm water. He seemed thrilled with the idea of getting in with his cloths on. Once I was sure the water had warmed him up, I told him to put all his cloths in a basket and put the big blue robe on. I waited outside the bathroom door. He walked out wearing the robe and smiling.
“Look Mrs. V!” he showed me how the long sleeves hung over his arms. I laughed, this kid was so cute. I grabbed the basket with the wet cloths and threw it in the dryer. I blew his hair dry and then set him in the T.V. room. He mastered the remote control within seconds and watched cartoons while I made him some hot chocolate and put some cookies on a plate.
“Bert. I’ll be right back. I’m going to leave a note on your house so you’re parents know you’re here.” I drove the couple blocks to his house. I checked if there was anyone there. I rang the bell and knocked, but no one answered. I slid the note under the front door and went back home. Bert was still watching cartoons and giggling at the action on the screen. I sat down next to him on the couch and kept him company until he fell asleep.
About half an hour later Gerard arrived. His reaction was priceless when he walked in and saw a kid sleeping on the couch in his bathrobe.
“What is he doing here?” He whispered to me so Bert wouldn’t wake up.
“He showed up at our front door about an hour ago. He was soaking wet. Apparently his parents are out and they left him with the maid. But I guess the maid decided to leave early and locked up the house.. Bert was playing in his yard when it started raining but he couldn’t get back in.”
“So he walked two blocks and came here?”
I shrugged. “I guess he thought we looked the friendliest.” I heard the dryer beep go off. Bert stirred on the couch and looked up at us.
“Hey there sleepyhead. Your cloths are dry. Why don’t you go with Mr. V and have him help you get dressed.”
Gerard gave me a look that said “6 year olds know how to dress themselves!” or maybe it was something else like “We could be arrested…” I’m not sure.
While the boys were upstairs, someone rang the front door bell. I opened the door to find his mothers standing there. She pushed passed me into my house.
“I got your note. Is he here? Is he ok?”
“Yes. He’s upstairs.” I called up to Gerard and told him Bert’s mom had arrived. Bert came running down the stairs and jumped into his mother’s arms.
I told Ophelia what happened and how he ended up at our house. She thanked us over and over. She kept saying she couldn’t believe the maid would leave him just like that. Then she yelled at Bert for not staying inside the their house. That comment threw me off. It aggravated me a little that she would be mad at her child for being playful. I didn’t say anything, but told her Bert was welcome to come over whenever he wanted. He was a good kid and I didn’t mind having him around.
“Oh, you’re just a young couple. Pretty soon you’ll have your own children running around and you won’t be able to stand them…” Ophelia replied and she picked Bert up and took him to their car.
What?
I smiled politely and said goodbye to Bert. Back in the house Gerard gave me a puzzled look and asked “What was all that about? Did she really say we wouldn’t be able to stand our own kids?”
I just shook my head, trying to forget the comment. “I’m sure she was just upset about him being left alone. I don’t think she meant it.”
I picked up the empty cookie plate and wiped the crumbs off the couch. I stared at the cartoons playing on the TV. I was replaying the events of the day in my head when Gerry’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Darling…?”
“Yes?” I walked into the kitchen and opened a soup can for dinner.
“Do you even regret giving up on certain opportunities?”
I placed the soup in a pan over the stove. “What kind of opportunities?”
Gerard leaned against the counter and stared down at the dirty dishes. “Children…for example. The opportunity to have kids…to be a mom.”
I turned around to face him and it started to dawn on me that all those times he’d seem me with kids, he wasn’t looking at them because he wanted kids. He was looking at me with them, and feeling pity…
“I don’t know how to answer what you’re asking me.” I stared at him, searching for an answer or reaction on his face. “I know we have never seriously discussed the possibility of having children. I figured it would be something longer down the road, but I imagine we would have kids someday. Don’t you want children?”
“Yes. Of course. Someday. But I don’t want…I don’t want a child with you.”
My jaw dropped and I turned off the soup to distract myself for a second. “What do you mean you don’t a child with me?” A surge of feelings of anger, disappointment, sadness and betrayal stung my heart.
“Wait! No…ugh! Let me rephrase that.” He held his hands out at me. I wonder if he thought I’d throw the hot soup at him. “I meant, I do want to raise a kid with you. I just don’t want the kid to be ours. Like…your egg and my---“
“Woah!…OK!” I covered his mouth with my hand before he went into too many details. “I got the idea. You don’t want a natural child with me.”
“Exactly.”
A part of me was relieved, but another part of me wondered what it would be like to have our own child; the best and worst of both of us all combined into a little person. I told Gerry that there were always other ways to conceive a natural child, besides in-vitro. But he made it clear he didn’t want that.
“Desirae. I love you. I really do.” He hugged me and kissed the top of my head. “Our marriage, our relationship works very well. We work. But having baby is something bigger than us. I don’t see how it would work. I can’t imagine a little piece of you and me in a baby…we have so many problems as it is…”
“I understand…” I hugged him back. “At least I think I do…" I placed the soup in two bowels and we sat down to have dinner. “We can always try and adopt…While we’re on the subject. When do you want a baby?”
Gerard smiled. “If we’re still together, then probably not for another 5 years.”
“I’ll be 29 years old and you’ll be 30-31. Adoption takes a long time…. Let’s try in 2-3 years.”
“Three.”
“Done.”
Till next time.
xoxo
Desirae Valdespino
