“Hmm. Good point. I think I’d like to live in the city until I have kids, but then move to the suburbs.”
“Kids?” This was the first she’d ever mentioned having kids of her own. “You think you want to have kids?” I glanced over at her and suddenly she looked nervous, like she’d stumbled into some sort of relationship quicksand. I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand. “Don’t freak out, just answer honestly. You can’t give me a wrong answer unless it’s a dishonest one.”
It took her a moment, but she finally spoke.
“There was a time in my life where I thought kids weren’t really an option for me. You know how I was: I never wanted to be with someone long enough to get to a third date, let alone have kids with them. I thought, with Marcus, it would be too disruptive or too difficult. So I kind of accepted that kids wouldn’t be a part of my future. But I guess, in the last month or so, kids have become a reality again.”
Fuck but I loved her.
“So how many kids do you think you’d like?” I asked gently, not wanting to freak her out by having a serious relationship conversation over Cheetos and Diet Coke.
“Well, I mean, I guess the smart thing would be to start with one and see how it goes from there, right?”
“Like with dogs?” I asked, laughing. Luckily, she laughed too.
“Yeah.” Her laughter tapered off and then she asked, “How do you feel about kids?”
“I’d love to have kids with you, Kal.”
“That’s really sweet, Ri,” she said shyly. “But how do you feel about kids in general? How did you feel about them before you met me?”
This time it was I who shrugged. “I hadn’t thought too much about it. Kids were just always a part of my future. It was usually a distant, hazy future, but they were there.”
“How distant is it now?” Her voice was still painfully shy and I could almost feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.
“The vision is becoming clearer every day.”
She paused but then asked, “Have you ever had a near-death experience?”
“Well that escalated quickly.” I laughed. “And no, I never have. You?”
“Thankfully, no.” I saw her thumb move over her phone out of the corner of my eye, but then I heard her say excitedly, “Viewpoint!”
Sure enough there was another viewpoint one mile up the road. As we pulled off the highway and onto a glorified shoulder with a few parking spaces, I noticed a lot of the lookout points in Oregon and Northern California were abundant with trees, but the farther south we headed, the dryer and more brown everything became. This viewpoint was drastically different from the one we’d first met at back in Seattle so many months ago.
We met at the front of the car and she took the hand I held out for her. We walked toward the railing and she leaned into my side, resting her free hand over my heart. We watched for a few minutes as the waves crashed onto the rocks below. Sometimes my eyes wandered out to the horizon, like they had my whole life, straining to see as far as I possibly could. I don’t know what I thought would magically appear at that imaginary line where water met sky, but sometimes I thought if I looked long enough I’d see something spectacular—like the edge of the earth or something.
We were still a few hours outside of LA and the sun was getting lower in the sky, inching toward the water, coloring the horizon the oranges and reds I loved to look at. I could smell the flowery scent of Kalli’s shampoo, feel her soft curves pressed along the side of my body, and for as far as I could see was blue water with the shiny reflection of the sunset. I couldn’t remember a moment more perfect than that one. It was remarkable.
Gripping Kalli’s chin between my thumb and forefinger, I angled her face toward me and then feathered my lips across hers. She melted into the kiss, turning her whole body into mine, moving her hand up my chest to grip my shoulder. I pressed our still linked hands into the small of her back and swept my tongue into her mouth.
Her hair was up in a messy knot atop her head, she was wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of leggings, she had no makeup on, and her mouth tasted slightly of chocolate donuts and Diet Coke. I loved her. More than anything in the world, I loved her.
“I want a life with you, Kalli. I want this, us, forever.” My forehead was pressed against hers, our lips still barely touching, and I could feel the grip she had on my shoulder tightening.
“You’ve got me.” Her voice was a whisper, almost as though it hurt her to say the words. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”