Marie nodded. “No problem.” As soon as the other woman was out of earshot she whispered to Kelsey, “I want a radio.”
Kelsey laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a great reason to buy a business.”
“Whatever. I won’t mention that to the bank.”
They stopped just before the office, by a door that had been left open, revealing a tidy classroom full of children sitting at tables. They looked around three or four years old, and were doing a variety of activities—some painting, some playing with Play-Doh, others building with Legos.
“Don’t you just want to run in there and pinch those adorable little cheeks?” Marie cooed.
“Not really,” Kelsey said. “But a small, terrified part of me does want to run screaming back to the car.”
Marie crossed her arms over her chest. “You are seriously screwed up.”
“This is news to you?” Kelsey said drily.
“Look, my friend, I’ve let you get away with this whole ‘fear of children’ thing long enough. You’re great with kids. You are. I’ve seen you teaching at the climbing gym and I’ve seen you with Oscar, who now thinks you’re his best friend. The Bencher kids adore you. Hope’s having a heck of a time trying to compete with all the activities you did with them. So can we just drop this nonsense already?”
Kelsey ducked away from Marie’s piercing gaze. It wasn’t right that someone who resembled Shirley Temple should have such a frightening stare. “The Bencher kids are different,” she mumbled. “And Oscar still makes me nauseous.”
“Did you ever ask yourself why holding a baby makes you sick?”
Kelsey turned her back to the room full of small creatures. “I think it’s their heads. Or their necks. Or the combination of the two.”
“No,” Marie walked around into the hall to face her. “That’s not it. And you know it.”
“Do we really have to do this right now?” Kelsey glanced down at her watch. “I’m meeting Tank at the gym in half an hour. I should probably get going.” She’d been climbing with Tank all week so she could avoid talking to her father. He seemed to be avoiding her as well, sending long e-mails instead of calling, and leaving boxes on her doorstep instead of bringing them inside as he normally would.
Her friend’s hand stole through the crook of her elbow and steered her farther down the hall, out of view of the classroom. “Yes, we do. You’ve been avoiding this conversation as long as I’ve known you. When will you just admit that it’s because you want one? That’s why they make you sick. It’s not because they have wobbly heads and smell funny, although I will admit that both of those things are true. It’s because you know damn well that you want a family, and you want kids, and you’ll never have them living this crazy, vagabond life.”
Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “That’s absolute nonsense, Marie. You’ve known me for ten years. How can you say that? I’ve never wanted a family or kids. Never.”
“You’ve never let yourself want those things,” Marie corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“I travel too much for a family,” Kelsey replied, trying to sound reasonable. She’d had numerous variations of this conversation with Marie over the years, and she’d always been able to cut it off in the past. But today something felt different, and an uneasy sensation tightened her stomach.
“So don’t travel so much.”
Kelsey cleared her throat. “Now you’re just being silly.”
Marie shook her head, sending red corkscrews flying. She grabbed Kelsey by the shoulders. “Don’t go to Nepal. Please. I know you don’t want me to say this but I love you too much to keep my mouth shut anymore. I don’t want you to go, Kelsey, and I don’t think you want to go either.”
Kelsey shook off Marie’s hands. “Cut it out,” she said, looking up and down the hallway. “They’re going to think you’re nuts.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed with determination. “No way. You’re my best friend and I’m not giving up on this. I let you go once and I’m not doing it again.”
“I’m not going to die up there,” Kelsey insisted, though they both knew she couldn’t promise anything of the sort. “I’m coming back, Marie. You don’t have to freak out on me.”
“But you’re making damn sure that no one will care if you don’t, right? No one except for me.”
“Marie—”
“Listen, I’ve known you a long time, and I know how you operate. You push people away, especially guys. I can’t tell you how many lovesick fools I counseled in college who desperately wanted to date you. But you didn’t give them the time of day.”