The Girl With The Yellow Umbrella

t w o

March 8th, 2015
Jason

The television kept flickering off, so I picked up the remote and kept switching it on. Again, the TV turned off, bothering me from watching my favorite show. This sequence kept repeating over and over until I couldn't bare it anymore.

"Steve, will you stop fucking with the TV?" I warned him as I turned around to see him standing over the couch with another remote we had.

"We need to talk about this," he stated nonchalantly, like it was the normalest thing since normal.

"What is there to talk about? We met her, she was great, and she'll be our surrogate mother." I huffed in a annoyance and turned the television back on.

But it turned off....again.

"Steve! I'm watching Gotham!" I finally yelled at him. Out of all times to talk about this, he had to choose now.

"Jason, I know she's great and all, I could totally see her being qualified but..." There was a moment of silence like he was actually scared to say whatever was on his mind.

Typical Steve.

"But what? Spit it out already."

"She's black," he blurted out and soon his face had turned fiery red. I was completely shocked, bewildered actually.

"What?" I didn't know how to answer that.

Did Steve just say that?

I could never imagine him saying that after all the years we've been together. If anything, he's the most political one out of both of us and hates the use of racism. And now, he was doing the exact thing he hated.

"There's nothing wrong with being black. It's just...this is going to be your sperm sample and the child is going to be mixed. I don't know how to say this," Steve sighed and plopped himself down onto the arm chair next to the couch. "It's just that...I've wanted a baby for so long and I want it to look like our baby and if it's mixed, then it won't be."

"It could never really be our baby Steve, you know that. No one's going to think, well this isn't their baby because they already know it isn't. If anything, mixed children look fucking awesome", I tried to reassure him. I felt bad for him, I really did but he had to face the facts. We're both guys and the way our child looks doesn't matter, just as long as we treat it as our child.

"I know that, it's stupid to think like this but I want it to look like both of us. Like it really is our child. And that just won't work out since she's black and all." Steve gave me a pleading look but I really didn't know what to say. I've never really been in this type of predicament before.

"I don't know what to say Steve. You say you want a child and then you don't even want to accept the first person who actually sounds like the best surrogate mother for us. She's smart, she's nice, she's good looking and she's exactly what we wanted. The color of her skin doesn't change that about her," I stated and instantly got up to go to my bedroom.

"But...Jason," Steve whined but I cut him off.

"There's always that girl who looked like she was 15 and obviously uses drugs." I wanted him to remember that she was good compared to the others and I really didn't have a problem with her.

She was mediocre.

She was normal.

She wasn't anything special.

"You're right, what was I thinking?," he laughed and a smile was finally plastered on his pale looking face. He gave me a pat on the shoulder before walking away. I didn't know how to feel about this, about the baby or the surrogate mother. I didn't even know if I truly wanted this. But Steve did, and I wasn't about to break his heart.

Before I could turn the television back on, I heard Steve from the other room screaming, "I'm calling her by the way! You know, to tell her we chose her and that she could stay here for the entire pregnancy!"

"Um...fine!", I responded. I didn't know why I was feeling anxious all of a sudden, like I might throw up and that's exactly what I did.

I threw up when I thought of a little kid running around in my house.