After Jake left, Cassandra entered her apartment and flipped on the radio. A soft pop song filled the apartment as she set about unpacking her bag. Really most of it could have waited until tomorrow, but organization relaxed her. This weekend had been hectic, more so she figured for her boyfriend, but still there were moments.
She wondered if the things Jake had to think about had to do with children. Children and marriage. She supposed they did, after all the questions had been brought up this weekend. She smiled softly thinking about Jake holding that precious baby in his arms, weeping softly over the honor of being his namesake. Jake would be a good father. She'd never forget that moment when hope and joy had flashed across his face when she said there was a possibility that they could have a child after all.
She honestly hadn't looked into surrogacy when she brought it up yesterday. It had suddenly jumped into her head as a viable solution. She'd never really had reason to think about alternative means of having a child. When she was first told that she should never carry a child, she'd been too young to even worry about it. Her adult relationships had been fairly short lived, certainly none of the guys she dated had even been marriage material. Not until Jake . . . .
Kind, sweet, earnest, old fashioned Jake. The man who loved her. The one who was ready to sacrifice anything for a few years of happiness with her. She knew deep down that Jake deserved a woman who could give him children, a woman who would be with him to dance at their grandchild's wedding. But she couldn't give him up. Not for anything.
Maybe it was selfish. She certainly had had her moments of selfishness. She nearly lost out on this love, this man because of her selfishness.
But when I look in his eyes . . .when he holds me like nothing could make him let go . . .when he tells me that he'd rather have me as long as he can instead of anyone else. . .I believe him.
She wondered again what he was thinking about upstairs. She had a feeling part of it had been his sister's teasing comment about a wedding invitation. Was he thinking about proposing?
Jake was an old fashioned guy. He probably assumed that they would get married some day, even though he'd never actually brought it up. He'd only mentioned marriage once when he was telling her about why he didn't marry his ex-girlfriend. She'd remembered he'd been quick to mention that he wasn't opposed to marriage in principle.
Probably something that they should talk about. She'd never actually mentioned to Jake that her parents were not married. They'd been scientists of the generation that had started rejecting societal norms. Although as far as she knew they were still partners, she was not so sure they'd ever really loved each other. Instead, they had chosen a partnership based on compatibility or some other such nonsense. Cassandra was not the same sort of romantic as Jake was, but she certainly was much more emotional than her parents. She wondered if that was another disappointment to them.
Her whimsy, her joy, her ability to actually love. Those were things that her parents simply did not understand. Telling her at three that Santa Claus didn't exist. Ha! Telling her to get her head out of the clouds and stop daydreaming about pets and friends. A large part of her life now was a direct rebellion against everything her parents had been.
And her parents bitter disappointment when her illness had become apparent. It had nothing to do with losing their daughter early and everything to do with their perfect experiment not living up to potential.
She threw a pillow from her sofa across the room. Old anger flared in her chest. Her trophies disappearing. The argument when she dropped out of high school. Her moving out of the house the second she could . . . .
The fact that she hadn't even talked to her family in at least six years . . . .
They wouldn't approve of Jake. Even if she presented him to her parents as the genius art historian that he was, all they would see was small town Oklahoman. And they certainly would have called her a fool for wanting to marry and start a family with a death sentence hanging over her. They'd probably call her a sentimental fool for even entertaining thoughts of marriage.
Domestic partnership, that was the sensible thing. It was the most she'd ever allow herself to think about . . . .
Except . . .
Jake . . .
I really want to marry Jake.
Of everything her parents had ever wanted for her. Everything she thought she wanted for herself. It all boiled down to two things she wanted. Well three things.
Two things she never allowed herself to want. And the one thing that she was that she didn't know even existed until a few months ago.
She wanted to be, what she was, a Librarian. And she wanted to be a wife and mother.
She smiled. She, Jake and Ezekiel were already firsts in the Library. The first Librarians in training. So why not another first?
She actually giggled thinking about Flynn. He'd be delighted. Probably want them to name their first born after him.
Baird would secretly be delighted for them but outwardly would tell them that she wouldn't babysit.
Jones would be well Jones. Probably steal them a wedding present. Probably teach their kid how to pick locks.
Jenkins. The old softie. He'd disapprove like crazy and then offer to escort her down the aisle.
She and Jake had both let so much of their lives pass them by. Both out of fear. He'd been afraid of what others would think. She'd been afraid of her illness. This longing wasn't just her biological clock, though that was certainly going off like crazy. It was time to stop watching on the sidelines. Just like they'd taken a chance on the Library, they had to take a chance on each other.
She looked at the antique clock on her coffee table. It wasn't very late, she wondered if Jake was still awake. She thought about calling to make sure, but she figured he wouldn't really mind if she came up. She grabbed her keys and headed upstairs.
She'd knocked softly on the door and there was no answer. Jake rarely remembered to turn his dead bolt, in fact there were times she had to remind him to even lock his door. So she let herself in with her key. Jake's apartment was dark, lit only by the streetlights coming through the open curtains in the living room. She made her way back to the bedroom where she saw a light.
"Jake?"
Gentle snores answered her and she stifled a giggle. The light on his nightstand was still on but Jake, half dressed, was sprawled fast asleep in the middle of the bed.
She almost kissed his forehead, turned off the lamp and left. But as her lips brushed across his forehead, he muttered her name and rolled over. Her heart fluttered and she sat down on the bed to remove her boots, kicking them over by his. She took a few layers of clothing off to make herself more comfortable.
Then she turned off the light and curled herself around him. And in her own dreams, she and Jake chased after a little blue eyed girl . . . .
