Chapter 24: Gingerbread House

The brilliantly white noonday sun lit up the snow around Daria's little car in the parking lot of Make My Clay as Jane unwrapped the forgotten ham sandwich sweetly delivered by her girlfriend. She took a bite, said, "God, I love mayo," in a tone that was almost sexual, then abruptly switched gears and set her sandwich down in a businesslike manner. "Okay babe, you said you wanted to talk about our very own modern-day Maleficent, Kay Sloane? After the bloodlines comment, nothing could surprise me. Does she want to use the baby as an organ farm if it has Trent's genetics?"

Daria took Jane's hand with a half-smile. "She's narrowed it down to either that or training it to sweep stables from birth. First birthday gift? Tiny scooper for horse poop." Jane's shoulders bobbed with a silent laugh, the corners of her eyelids crinkling in the light. Daria squeezed her hand and went on. "I am a little worried about the whole situation, though. Did the guys get results from their semen triathlon yet? Or whatever you call it when they test sperm to see whether it's the guy breaking the marathon tape or the one in the back stopping for pie."

"Not yet, but they are looking at egg donors." She paused. "I'm really not sure how that works. Is it a flip-book situation?"

"I think they have the candidates perform increasingly difficult tests of strength and intelligence, culminating in a round of bear wrestling with a panel of judges screaming physics questions from the sidelines."

"So pretty much like high school, then?"

"Yup."

There was a lengthy pause as Jane absentmindedly rubbed at a paint smear on her cheek. Then she said, softly, "Increasing the Earth's population sounds like a lot of work." And somewhat more unexpectedly: "I had a beta fish once."

"Pépé?"

"Yeah. I killed him. I mean, not on purpose. Six-year-old Jane though he'd like those candy booger things." Daria rested her head on the seat back and regarded the love of her life with great affection. Jane briefly shook her head as if to clear it and turned to face her. "Anyway! Doomed beta fish aside, it's hard to ever picture myself with…kids."

Daria seemed to consider her response. "When we made gingerbread houses in high school home ec, yours did have a 'Children Will Be Eaten' sign out front. And somehow, a working mini-furnace."

"Ms. Barch asked me to make her one." She gave Daria's hand a squeeze. "I know you've thought about kids a bit more fondly than I have at times."

"They have their moments."

"When they're not smearing clay in my hair, they can be pretty okay. Mind if I roll the window down a bit? It's kind of hot in here." Daria nodded. Just as Jane was taking a deep breath of late December air, a sandy-haired boy of about eight or nine walked by with what appeared to be his mother. "Now that one," murmured Jane, "Has Olympic clay-throwing abilities. Just really a nightmare of a kid."

Daria snorted a laugh and laid her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, where it was promptly kissed.

Suddenly, they both saw the young clay enthusiast crunch to a stop in the snow and place his hands on his hips. Red in the face, he turned to his probably-mom and shouted, "Assface!"

Mouths matching "o's" of surprise and eyes wide, the young couple stared at each other for a few moments and then slowly collapsed into quiet giggles. When they both had the power of speech again, Daria pushed her glasses up on her nose and said, "Well. A point goes on your board."

"To be fair, I don't think we're allowed to count the latest incarnation of an ancient forest demon as a 'child.' But as much as I enjoy our point-based approach to reproductive decision making…" Jane crumpled the plastic wrap from her sandwich into a ball. "We should probably talk about the kid question sometime."

"Yeah," Daria said quietly. Then she deadpanned, "Or, we could make a literal scoreboard—kids versus no kids—and keep a tally while we continue to make jokes as though this were a much, much funnier topic. Until we can't take it anymore."

"That sounds more our speed."

They shared a mutual smirk, and then they were kissing, and then the world went away.