This is the first few paragraphs of my new short story
The tryke, red as apples and as shiny as glass, sat alone in the garage. Just days before she had been squealing in delight as she rode down the driveway. Her hair was caught by the summer time breeze, flowing behind her in brown waves. The faint red stain of popsicles was still around her mouth and her blue eyes sparkled in the sun, as she would zip around on her bike.
Her outstretched arms signaled she was done with her ride and wanted to snuggle with her mom on the perfect summer time porch. Reaching for her, her small warm arms wrapped around my neck. I can still smell her Popsicle breath and her face against my cheek. “Love you momma,” still fills my mind. I pick up her tryke, place it in the garage and take her inside for her nap.
I wrap her favorite blanket (a comforter that is speckled with Blues Clues) around her little body and kiss her forehead, as her eyes began to roll into slumber. I whisper, “I love you Sierra”, and walk out quietly.
I am somewhat relieved that it’s naptime; I had so much housework to get done before Janet got home from work. I began picking up her toys and placing them in a basket. Though I am humming while I work, my mind is thinking of bigger problems. Our relationship is fading, slowly dying after nine years. I can’t think of what triggered the change, though Janet insists it changed once we had Sierra. Maybe she’s right, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. Admitting our four year old daughter came between us felt like placing blame on Sierra, who would become an innocent casualty of adult decisions.
We decided Janet would carry our child after finding out I couldn’t have kids. I know this decision was hard for Janet, as she never saw herself as the “carry a kid” type, but after dozens of infertility doctors and failed attempts at insemination it just made sense for Janet to carry our baby. I was deeply moved at her gesture but at the same time deeply disappointed that I couldn’t be the one to feel our baby’s movements throughout those nine months. Janet wasn’t as enthusiastic about being pregnant and just wanted the nine months to pass by quickly. I think I resented her for being so non-chalant about the whole affair. All I ever wanted was to have a family growing up.
When I realized I was gay I was convinced that having a “normal” life was out of the question. I felt as though any hopes of being married and raising a family was out of the question. Perhaps that’s why I became career obsessive. I graduated top of my class in High School with a full ride scholarship to our local University. I immersed myself in studying, ignoring the nagging feeling that something was missing. Perhaps it was the fact that I refused to acknowledge I was gay and didn’t date, or the fact that I had only dreamed of being a mother and wife to someone and being gay meant I had to find something else … until I met her.
Stay tuned for more 🙂