Moffy sets down his pencil, brows scrunched in deep contemplation. “Yeah…but how is that sex? I’m just confused. Whitney Rivenfell says two people can do it without making babies. Why would they want to do that?” He shakes his head. “And how exactly does the sperm get inside?”
Calmly, I answer the second question. It seems the easiest. “Sperm comes out of a penis, and so when the man puts his penis into a woman’s vagina, the sperm releases.” Nailed it. Continuing on, “And as for Whitney’s assessment, two people can have sex without making babies. She’s right about that.”
“He,” Moffy corrects. “Whitney’s a boy, Mom.”
First strike, but it had nothing to do with the sex conversation. I’ll take it.
He keeps talking before I can explain further, “So that’s what you and Dad do?” His face twists. “Does it hurt you? Are you okay?”
Uhhh…I didn’t think the sex talk would take this detour. “It doesn’t hurt, Moffy…well for some girls, it does their first time. But that’s not really part of what I want to say…” I trail off, lost for a second. I try to recollect my dispersed thoughts, but his compassion for family members pushes this conversation in another direction.
“So…Janie, Sulli and Luna…” He stares off, confused and concerned about the girls he knows.
“Sex isn’t something to be scared of, but none of you should be having sex until you’re much older,” I tell him, words rushing towards me all of a sudden.
Moffy stares off in thought.
So I just continue, “It can feel good for grown-ups, which is why people do it outside of making babies. When you get older soon, you might even have urges to experiment with yourself…and that’s okay, but it’s something you only do in private.”
Lo and I played “doctor” when we were nine, and we both had a concept of what sex was—we just wanted to see how it felt.
Moffy frowns. “How old were you when you started?”
Don’t freak out. “Having sex?”
“Yeah.”
I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. But not to Lo. I’d do anything to keep them from having sex that soon, so I say, “Old.” I worry that he might ask this to someone else. I add, “Personal sex questions like that stay private between couples, so it’s better not to ask other people that one. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” He nods and then asks about Winona and surrogacy again. I explain the whole process so he understands that Rose and Ryke did not have sex, and Winona is biologically Ryke and Daisy’s daughter. I watch clarity sweep his face, and he nods more confidently.
“Do you know what a condom is?” I ask next.
“Not really.”
“It protects your partner.” I think about an STD talk, but maybe I’ll leave that for another time, so I just mention how condoms prevent pregnancies. “It’s like a plastic glove that wraps around the penis so sperm can’t enter a woman. Make sense?”
He thinks about this for a long second. “I dunno. The whole thing seems painful and gross.”
“Well it’s a grown-up thing,” I reinforce this notion. “You don’t have to worry about it until you’re much much older, and maybe then it won’t seem so gross.”
Moffy relaxes more, happy that it’s not something he has to concern himself with right now.
“Anymore questions?” I wonder.
“Yeah.” He looks down at his paper. “If Benji has twelve apples and Mary has three-hundred-and-forty-five, how many apples do they have in all?”
This I can handle. Hell, after today, I can handle anything.
After I finish helping Moffy with his homework, I step into the hall. It’s barren, empty of Loren Hale. I check the next couple of rooms, only to find him in Luna’s.
He lies on the carpet with our four-year-old daughter, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and goopy shapes and colors from the lava lamp.
“And on my planet Thebula, all the waters has glitters. No one can drown,” she tells him, kicking her feet up on her plastic green chair.
“Glitter?” he asks. “Does that mean you’ll be all glittery when you get out of the pool?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods. “And brover won’t be able to drown.”
My heart lurches. She saw a trailer on television where a boy drowned. Some thriller movie coming out for the summer, and now she’s worried about Moffy since he spends most of his time in the pool.
Lo turns his head towards our daughter. Flyaway pieces of her light brown hair touch her round face. She has a red cape tied around her neck, already bathed and in star-printed PJs.
Lo brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. “Moffy isn’t going to drown, Luna. He took swim classes so he won’t.”
“Butbut,” she slurs her words. “What happens if the swim classies fail?”
“They won’t, you wanna know why?” Lo props himself on his elbow, head on his hand, his eyes on our daughter. Lo never thought he could be gentle, not even with his own kids, but he was wrong. He might not have the softest voice, but his innocence surfaces—innocence that we both lost at a young age. He finds and gives it all to them.
“Why?” Luna asks.
“Because Moffy is the best swimmer in the entire neighborhood. He’s so good that I think it’s his secret superpower, but shhh.” He puts his finger to his lips. “You can’t tell him about his superpower or else it might go away. That’s why we call it a…” He feigns surprise.
“A what?”
“A secret!” He tickles Luna. She giggles and rolls from side to side.
I’m smiling so wide, even as Lo glances at the door for the first time. Seeing me. He nods for me to come further inside. I skip on over, only to rest down on the other side of Luna.
“Mommy!” she exclaims. “I was telling Daddy about my planet Thebula. I think that’s where I’m from.” She’s adamant that she was not born on Earth. That Lo and I had her on another planet and then she returned to this world on a spaceship, bringing her with us. Her imagination is the highlight of my day.
“Thebula,” I muse. “It sounds familiar.”
She inhales a large breath of air. “Really?”
I nod and she springs to her feet and runs over to her little work desk by a strange looking plant she waters every day.
“Whatcha doing?” I ask Luna.
“Drawing it for you!”
I’m glowing as Lo places his fingers to my chin, slowly drawing my face towards his. He kisses the corner of my lips, both of us lying on the fuzzy rug.
“When did you leave?” I ask, scooting closer and closer. Until our legs and arms tangle.
“When you started talking about Benji and Mary and apples.” His amber eyes fill with something soul-deep. “I always believed in you, Lily, but that was…extraordinary.”
“I didn’t blush. Not once.” Pride swells up, something so foreign that I hold onto it tight.
“You’re amazing.” He kisses me once more. This time right on the lips—where the sentiment of his words sings through me.
[ 39 ]
April 2024
Calloway Couture Boutique Philadelphia
ROSE COBALT
I closed the boutique.
Just for the day. Interior designers left about five minutes ago after canvassing the space and snapping photographs, all for Calloway Couture’s retail expansion into New York City, San Francisco, and Chicago.
The boutique is quiet, and so I sit behind the cash register and sketch a lace bustier. I spend most of my time creating baby clothes and dresses, but I’ve been drawing some haute couture gowns and thinking about fabrics. They’re incredibly unaffordable for the everyday woman, which is not what Calloway Couture is about, but I’ve felt compelled towards the designs, more inspired to go down this path.
My five-year plan is to create a fall fashion line of them. I’m constantly busy, even with all my gremlins in school, but a five-year timeframe should be achievable.
I check the clock. Ben, just two, is in pre-pre-K for another hour and then I have to pick him up from school. I tap my pencil to my sketchbook and skim the racks of clothes, the ottoman cushions, the twinkling chandeliers. This one store will become many. My clothes are being worn by thousands, and I’d return to myself at twenty-three and I’d just say, breathe.