You're the One (a Bistro La Bohème novella)

Chapter 1: The Talk

Natalie sat on the couch next to Fred. She had five minutes. After that, his favorite show would start, and then he’d go straight to bed and drop off.

“Chéri, how do you feel about starting a family?” she asked.

He blinked a few times. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“This is a good time. We’re both professionally stable—”

“But we’re still young,” he cut in. “What’s the rush?”

“Twenty-seven and twenty-nine is a perfect age to have a first baby.” She took his hand. “We’ve been together for three years now . . .It’s a natural next step.”

“I’m working like crazy. Remember the project I told you about? It could be my breakthrough.” His gaze darted to the TV. “I’m not very . . .available for a baby right now.”

She didn’t reply as she searched for the right words.

He gave her palm a little squeeze and then pulled his hand free. “My career is my top priority right now.”

“That’s fine. Luckily, I have short working hours and long holidays. I’m hundred percent available.”

He kept silent, and Natalie wondered if he was reconsidering.

Perking up, she added, “And my parents would be happy to give us a hand.”

“Nat, I’m . . .” He rubbed his forehead. “There’s no room for a baby in this apartment.”

“We can rent a bigger one, maybe less centrally located—”

“Out of the question. I love this neighborhood. I’m not ready for suburbia yet.” He turned back to the television and increased the volume.

The beginning credits of his show were rolling on the screen. Her audience was over. Even though Fred hadn’t actually said no, his message was loud and clear: I don’t want a baby, now please drop the subject.

And so she did.

For the next hour, she sat quietly, biting her nails and blaming herself for having handled the matter so poorly. Fred was the man of her life. She was lucky this well-liked, smart, and handsome guy wanted to be with her. But he was also complicated. He often said one thing and meant another, expecting her to read between the lines. He expected her to respect his boundaries, not put pressure on him. He also expected her to steer clear of certain topics—those being his parents, his siblings, marriage, real estate, and children.

Natalie clenched her fists. She should have known better than to bring up one of the taboos without careful preparation or a test run. What had come over her? If only she’d stopped for a moment this afternoon, when she fussed to make sure Fred was in a good mood tonight, and remembered she was fighting a lost cause?

But she’d lost the big picture behind details. When she finished work earlier today, she rushed to the Metro at four o’clock to beat the crowds, then to the bakery to get a fresh baguette. After that, she ran to the dry cleaner’s to pick up Fred’s suits, and then to the cheese shop and the butcher’. Once at home, she cooked, cleaned the apartment, and ironed Fred’s shirts. She went over her mental checklist, afraid she’d forgotten something. Something important . . .

And then it came to her. The button! Fred had asked her last night to fix a loose button on his gray suit jacket. It had slipped her mind, and now it could ruin everything. A tiny spot of ink on a white sheet of paper that would spread inexorably until the whole sheet turned black. That was how it was with Fred. He would get all worked up over the most stupid, insignificant thing. And there would be no talking to him.

Natalie scooted to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. Right. Half of his expensive Italian suits were gray. She checked all the buttons one by one until bingo! She found it. Now, everything would be perfect. All the boxes were ticked, no ink stains. Fred would be in a good mood and they’d talk.

He came home at nine, earlier than the previous few days. He collapsed on the bed and kicked off his shoes.

“The dinner’s still warm,” she said.

“I’ll take a rain check. We stuffed ourselves with junk food at the office, so . . .”

She shoved the food in the fridge and waited in the living room until he changed and slumped down on the couch in front of the TV.

And that was when she sat next to him and screwed up the most important conversation in her life.

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