Page 58 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

58 | FRANCESCA PE NN

Sanya perks up hopefully, and Gail deflates. She frowns at her daughter. “What
do you have against marriage?”
Sanya rolls her eyes. “Nothing. I just don’t want a guy to marry me because my

mom told him to.”
“Fine.” Gail bites out. “Do it your way.” She looks between us with renewed
hope. “How about a baby? Do me a favor and get my daughter pregnant.”
“Mom!” Sanya groans, her hands covering her face.
Now, we’re talking. I decide to test the waters. “I heard artificial insemination
can get pricy…”

Gail scoffs. “Do it the old-fashioned way. It’s free and effective.” She looks at
her watch. “I can leave now, and you two can get started.”
Say yes, say yes, say yes. I chant internally. I jump up and pour Gail a glass of
orange juice. I give her the glass and start washing the dishes.
“Mom. People have to want to have sex to do it the old-fashioned way. Who
said Henry is attracted to me in that way? Who said I want to be a mommy?”
My brain recalls how she looked at baby Amber. She wants children. I want
children. The house is perfect for children. Even if I didn’t want children,

practicing over and over again with Sanya is music to my ears. I am being a terrible
friend; I’m supposed to rush to her rescue and change the subject. I just can’t do it.
I am a selfish bastard. I am allowing her mother to wear her down because any
compromise she makes will work in my favor.
“Henri, darling, isn’t my daughter pretty?”
“Beautiful,” I answer without preamble. It is the truth. I’ve never had as many
wet dreams about anyone as I’ve had about Sanya.

I rinse the first plate, move it to the drying rack, and continue washing the
other dishes. I need to keep moving. I have to stay busy and not confess all my
lustful intentions. She needs support to get through the wedding, not another
douche in her life. I finish the last dish and start drying the counter.
“Any reservations with procreating with a black woman?” her mom presses.
My back is still to them, I imagine Sanya’s mortified face. I smile.
“None.”
I start putting all of the ingredients back in the refrigerator. I hear a few soft
thuds behind me.