Chapter 17
BLAKE
I know that Carrie isn’t too fond of her apartment, and as I pull up out the front of it, I can kind of see why now that I see it in the fading daylight. It’s not that it’s a terrible place or anything like that. It’s more that there is nothing inherently great about it.
First of all, it’s tiny. I can see that from the outside. And as I walk to her front door, I instantly spot the dirt and grime lacing the walls. I guess it to be pretty old and has most likely passed through a dozen hands by now.
My main concern isn’t so much for Carrie’s living conditions, but for those of my soon-to-be unborn child. I can’t have it being born in a place like this. I don’t even want it in a place like this while it’s in the womb. This worry is further compounded as I knock on Carrie’s front door, and a piece of the drywall crumbles and falls to the ground.
“Coming,” I hear her call as she rushes around the apartment.
It sounds like a damn hurricane inside as she runs back and forth.
I remain where I am, rocking back and forth on my heels as the sound inside slowly dies down. The lock unclicks, and the door flies open, almost off its hinges.
“Hey,” Carrie says, as soon as the door is open.
She looks a little flustered, like she’s just run a sprint. Actually, as I step into the apartment and see the attempted clean-up job that she has done, I figure that she is more akin to having just run a marathon.
“Quaint,” I say as I look over the apartment.
It’s not a messy place, or at least, not anymore. It’s a studio apartment. I guess the entire mess to have been shoved into a corner somewhere where I can’t see it.
“Shall we go?” She asks, still sounding flustered as she picks up a small bag.
The way she tries to push me out the door, I’m sure that she doesn’t want me seeing any more of that apartment than I have to.
“Is that all you’re taking?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, still trying to lead me out of the building.
“Listen, I’ve been thinking,” I say as I turn back on her, halting our exit. “I don’t think that one night will be enough. In fact, I would be shocked if it were. While you are ovulating, I think it would be best if you stay at my place.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we’re going to have to fuck a lot, and I think you should stay at my house permanently until you have conceived. What do you think?”
As I ask I notice her trying her hardest not to smile. She is really fighting against it. “Sure, I’d like that,” she finally says. “I’ll just grab some more stuff. I’ll be quick, okay?”
She hurries away, throwing her overnight bag onto her bed as she begins to grab more clothes from her closet. As she does this, I remain where I am, looking around the apartment. The inside is exactly as I thought it would be. It only confirms what I know to be true, that my baby can’t be born within these walls.
That’s the biggest reason for asking her to stay with me. Sure, I would like her to be around while her fertility window is open so there is more of a chance of conception. But if this all goes well, I imagine that I will be asking her to stay while she is with child. But that’s a conversation for a later date.
“Finished,” she exclaims, catching me off guard. I’m still looking around the apartment as she sidles up to me, bulging suitcase in her hand.
“Let me.” I take the suitcase from her hand and lead her out the front door to my car.
“I always forget how nice this car is,” she says as she climbs in the passenger seat. “Like seriously, I think it costs more than my apartment.”
“It better,” I quip as I jump in the driver’s seat and start up the engine. “Otherwise, I need to get a better one.”
“Hey,” she exclaims jokingly as she whacks my arm. “My place isn’t that bad, is it?”
“I’m kidding,” I say, pulling the Aston Martin onto the main road. “But still, I am happy that you agreed to come and stay with me.”
“Yeah, me too,” she says, giving me a warm smile. As she does, she reaches out and squeezes my arm.
It feels good, and for a moment there, I almost forget to keep my eyes on the road as I return the smile.
“So, tell me about your day. What have you been doing?”
“Do you really care?”
“What? Of course, I do. Listen, Carrie, I don’t want you to think that I’m only using you for this baby thing. I still like you. A lot actually. Even if we weren’t doing this, I imagine we would be in a pretty similar position to now. Only without a signed contract.”