Chapter 6- I want a baby

Amaija

I’m lying on the couch in my apartment. It’s been a month since I moved back in, and all I do is go to work, come home, and watch movies. My family keeps bugging me to go out, but why would I? Everything can be delivered nowadays—everything except a man, that is. But I’m off those for the next few years.

It’s Saturday, and I’m in the middle of my routine: ice cream and N*****x. I chuckle at a joke on the TV when the doorbell starts ringing. Ugh. I know it’s someone from my annoying family. They mean well, but trying to drag me out of the house every weekend isn’t helping.

Ding dong! Ding dong!

I turn up the TV; they’ll leave eventually.

Ding dong! Ding dong!

My phone starts ringing. I ignore it. It vibrates—a text from Brin. Ugh, not her. Anyone but her. She and Federico just got engaged, and while I’m happy for her, I can’t show it right now.

“Open the door before I break it down, sis!” Brin yells from outside. I read the message, groan, and shuffle to my feet. Stomping to the door, I tear it open, annoyed.

“Onee-chan, aren’t you a sight for my lonely eyes?” she says. I roll my eyes and walk away; she follows me in, closing the door behind her. We enter the living room, and I plop onto the sofa, grab my tub of ice cream, and scoop some into my mouth.

“Ice cream and N*****x again, Onee-chan?” she asks.

“Yes. Why are you here if not to stick your nose in my business?”

“What, I can’t miss my older sister?” she fires back.

“I saw you last week,” I retort.

“That was a whole seven days ago.” I exhale sharply; I don’t have the patience for this.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“We’re going wedding dress shopping today, and I…” Her voice softens.

“You need your big sister to be there,” I finish for her.

“Right. I know you’re off love and romance—and you have good reason to be—but can you come and act like the sister I know and love?” she pleads.

I sigh. Though I want to be selfish and wallow in my misery, I can’t subject my family to that. “Okay, I’ll get ready.”

“Yippie! Let me get a dress for you.” She jumps to her feet. I smile; I guess she wanted me there.

“We’re going to a bridal shop. Why do I need a specific dress?” I inquire.

“You never know who you’ll meet on the sidewalks of New York,” she answers gleefully.

“Nobody, I hope.”

“Come on, cheer up. I’ll make sure you look pretty today,” she encourages.

I groan as she drags me to my bedroom.

An hour later, we’re in a bridal shop downtown—Mom, Zara, Brin, Chloe, and all of Mom’s friends we affectionately call “Aunt.” We’ve known them since birth; they practically raised us alongside Mom and Dad. We have champagne and snacks, and everyone’s laughing and chatting as we wait for Brin to change.

“Amaija,” Aunt Ken calls. I take a sip of my champagne.

“Yes, Aunt Ken?”

“I ran into that little boy the other day,” she tells me.

“Which little boy?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Don’t mess with me, Ami.”

I sigh. “Aunt Ken, I’ve moved on. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Kenya, leave her alone,” Mom saves me.

“No, I don’t know why you waited four months to tell me. Now, if I stab him, I can’t claim a crime of passion in court,” Aunt Ken retorts.

“Mom, stop it,” Zara says to her mother.

“I’m just annoyed at that asshole,” Aunt Kenya insists.

“We all are,” Aunt Santana chimes in.

“Yeah, he hurt our baby,” Aunt Sam adds. I sigh. I love them, but I don’t want to talk about this.

“That was a year ago. She’s happy and healthy now, so let’s focus on Brin,” Mom tells them. I smile at her as she squeezes my hand.

“Yeah, today’s Brin’s day,” Chloe agrees. Brin walks out in her first dress.

The room falls silent until Mom bursts into tears.

“Utsukushī akachan dake utsukush (beautiful baby, just beautiful),” she cries.

“You look amazing, B,” Zara tells Brin.

“You look amazing,” Aunt Santana adds.

“Love it!” Chloe exclaims.

“You’re gorgeous, baby,” Aunt Sam compliments. Brin looks at me expectantly.

“Umm, it’s nice,” I say.

“Just nice?” she asks.

“Well, it’s not my favorite.”

“Ami!” Mom stops me.

“Mom, I’m just being honest!”

“Okay, it’s the first one. I’ll try the others,” Brin says, disappointment clear on her face as she heads back to the dressing room. Everyone glares at me.

“What? She only gets to do this once. The dress has to be perfect.”

“Ami, is this hard for you?” Mom squeezes my hand. I smile at her.

“No, Mom. I’m happy for Brin. I want her to look perfect,” I say sincerely. She nods as Brin enters in the next dress.

“Stunning! My baby is so beautiful,” Mom exclaims. Everyone agrees. Brin and the others turn to me.

“Uh, you look like a princess,” I say. Brin beams.

“But I don’t think this is the one either,” I continue. Brin’s shoulders slump, and I’m the center of glares again. This happens for the next five dresses until she comes out in a mermaid dress with diamond trim. The sight takes my breath away—that’s the one. She sighs as everyone looks at me. I smile, stand, and hug her as tears form.

“You look beautiful, sis!” I cry.

“Is this the one?” she asks hopefully. I nod as I sob; she hugs me tight.

“Good. I was getting ready to cuss you out,” she says.

“We all were,” Chloe agrees. I laugh, wiping my tears. Everyone gathers around Brin, hugging her. I’m happy for her, but I’m sad I may never experience this—picking a dress to meet the love of my life at the altar. More tears well up; it’s overwhelming. I need fresh air.

“Mom, I’m going outside,” I say, not asking permission.

“Okay, sweetie.” She hugs me tightly, pulls away, and strokes my cheek. I smile before turning to leave. I hurry out of the store and inhale deeply as I step onto the sidewalk.

“Excuse me,” someone says.

“Sorry,” I mumble, leaning against the glass. A woman around my age walks past with a stroller. She stops to adjust it, shielding her baby from the sun. I touch my stomach instinctively—my baby would’ve been around that age. A couple of months ago, this would’ve made me cry, but now, seeing babies laugh and smile makes me happy.

“She’s adorable,” I can’t help but say.

“Thank you. A lot of work, though, especially when you’re doing it alone,” the mom replies. I smile softly. Did she have a cheating ex like me?

“Men! I hate them,” I blurt out. She laughs, confusing me. “I’m not their biggest fan either, but I chose to do it alone.”

“Huh? Chose to do it alone?”

“Yup. Got tired of waiting for the perfect man, so I went to the bank and bought some man juice,” she says.

“Man juice…” I gasp. “Sperm? Isn’t that… weird?” I ask.

“It’s unconventional, but I’ve never been happier,” she confirms. She bought sperm—that’s wild.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I have to get this little one home. I’m Krystel. Here’s my card—you seem like you want to know more,” she says.

I push her hand away. “No… no, I couldn’t. I can’t have a baby without a man. I was just curious.”

She chuckles. “If you’re curious, that means you want to know more. Take my card. Call if you want, or throw it away,” she insists, placing it in my hands. She smiles and walks off.

I watch her leave, then look at her business card: Krystel Myers – Psychologist. Well, if I don’t want to talk about a baby, I could always discuss my new fear of relationships or my hatred for my ex.

“Ami, come try on the bridesmaid dress!”

“Okay!” I reply. I take one last look at the card, slip it into my pocket, and head back into the shop.

After brunch, dinner, and some very drunk mothers, I finally get back to my loft. I open the door and smile. Today was unique and fun, but I’m happy to be home. I kick off my shoes, head to my room, pull off my clothes, and toss them on the floor before jumping in the shower. Afterward, I enter the closet to grab my night robe and step on a bag. The head of a bear peeks out.

I bend down to push it back, but realize what it is—the bear Zara bought for my baby, from the day my life fell apart. I pull it out and look at it. Without thinking, I take it to my bedroom and place it on the bed. I don’t know why, but it feels right. I grab my clothes off the floor, and Krystel’s card slips out. I pick it up, glance at it, then back at the bear—my heart races.

“Am I doing this? No, I can’t do this,” I exhale and walk to the mirror, doing what Mom always taught us—looking in the mirror and being honest with ourselves. I smile at my reflection.

“Amaija, what do you want?” I ask aloud. I close my eyes, quiet the critical part of my brain, and let my heart speak.

“I want a baby,” I whisper at first, frozen with shock. That’s what my heart desires—why I’ve felt listless. I want someone to love and care for.

“I want a baby,” I say louder.

“I want a baby!” I scream. Smiling, I clutch the card, grab the bear, and realize I want a baby—and I know just where to get one.