After Rochelle and I... what? Made love? Had sex? Fucked each other senseless?... I began to reflect on the time we had spent together, with me taking her out to dinner and concerts, plays and movies, and her having me over for home-cooked meals on a regular basis. Up to this point, I had thought of her as a family member, my mother-in-law. But now it seemed we were going to add to that having sex on a regular basis, with both of us hoping Rochelle would get pregnant with our child. This was Rochelle's idea, and a request she made to me, explaining that she knew me and knew that I was clean, safe and trustworthy. She told me that all she wanted was for me to impregnate her; the rest would be her responsibility.
I had married Rochelle's daughter, Delia, some years before after a year of dating. She died of cancer within a few years. I was 11 years older than Delia, which put me within five years of her mother, Rochelle, who had given birth to Delia at 16. I pondered this: I'm actually closer to Rochelle's age than I was to Delia's. I married Delia within a year. And I've been taking Rochelle out for over two years.
Things began to percolate in my mind, but I was willing to let them bubble and boil for a while. Meanwhile, I began to call Rochelle more often than before.
Rochelle is a stunningly beautiful woman, large and Rubenesque, with sparkly greenish-brown eyes, big full kissable lips, lovely dark chocolate skin, billowy hair, and a shape that puts the Golden Ratio to shame. And so I began to consider what I could, what I should do about this relationship. Do I impregnate this woman and then just get on down the road? That seems to be what she wants, but is that for real, or is she just giving me the easy way out so that I will cooperate and give her the baby she wants?
Time came that I was taking her out again. I went to her house to pick her up. She came to the door, dressed in a shimmery green dress which accented all her curves and demonstrated what a gorgeous woman she is. "Wow," I exclaimed. "You're stunning!"
"You like?" she smiled, spinning and giving me a 360.
"I love," I said. I took her in my arms and planted an admiring smooch on her lips, then presented my arm for her to hold and escorted her out to my car. I held the door as she settled herself inside, then closed it and made my way around to the driver's side.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Does sushi sound okay to you?" I responded.
"Ooh, sushi sounds perfect!" she answered back, and so I headed us off to a local sushi bar.
As we enjoyed the various samplings, I told her, "I have tickets to 'A Streetcar Named Desire' tonight. Does that sound like something you'd like to see?"
"Oh, absolutely! I've never seen it before," she responded enthusiastically.
And so we gorged ourselves on sushi, and then went to see the play. She was quiet on the way home. "Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yes, I guess so. The play was a bit disturbing, I think."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I swear to you, I will never behave like Stanley Kowalski. Please don't be afraid of me."
"Oh, Richie, I'm not afraid of you. If I was, I wouldn't go out with you, wouldn't invite you over, and certainly wouldn't ask you to father my baby. Speaking of which... won't you come in?"
"Rochelle, do you have any idea what you mean to me?"
"Um... probably not. Why don't you tell me? Or better yet, show me."
And so we went into her house, and the knowledge that we were going to have sex again with the intention of getting her pregnant was heavy in the air; but I didn't want it to be a rushed affair. "Will you dance with me?" I asked, remembering the last time we danced together.
"Let me get more comfortable," she said. "I'm going to the bathroom. Make yourself at home." and she headed off that way. So I began to dig through her vinyl collection of music. I put on Lou Rawls, and she came out of the bathroom dancing, holding her arms up to me. I took her by the hand and we began to whirl around the floor. "Oh, god," I exclaimed. "You're such a fine woman."
"Take me to bed," she said.
"Rochelle," I said, "I want so much more than just to have sex with you."
"Back off," she said. "I want a baby. Impregnate me, and your job is done."
Ow, that stung. Am I just a meat factory, a sperm generator? Do I just pump in squigglies, and that's it for me? I slowly stopped moving, dropped my hand from hers, and stood with unfocused eyes for a moment. Then, "I have to go," I told her, and I let myself out the door. "Wait!" she cried, but I was already out and gone.
That night she left a message on my phone. I didn't listen to it.
The next day she left another message on my phone. I didn't listen to that one either.
That night there was a knock on my door. I had a pretty good idea who it was, but I answered anyway. And there she was.
"Richie," she said. "Please, don't shut the door. Please hear me out."
I didn't say anything. I just stood looking at her.
"Richie, I am so sorry for what I said. Please, please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you. Will you please forgive me? Oh, Richie, I didn't mean to hurt you. Please give me another chance. I'm so sorry for the stupid, stupid thing I said."
Tears began to sting my eyes as I stood looking at her. At last I stood back, held open the door, and let her in.
"Yes. You hurt me," I said.
"I know," she said. "I know, and I hate myself for it. Please, Richie, forgive me. I'm so sorry. God, I am so sorry. Please, please, forgive me."
"Rochelle, I don't understand," I said. "Why? Why would you say something like that to me?"
"Richie," she said, "I don't want you to feel obligated. I told you, you don't have to do the daddy deal, don't have to pay for the child; just get me pregnant and I'll do the rest."
"Uh... Rochelle... what if I want to be obligated?"
"I... I didn't think you would want to. So I wasn't going to saddle you with it."
"Okay, so... what if the child, my child, is someone I want to love and raise?"
She stared at me, no words coming.
"Rochelle... what if I want to raise this child with you?"
She stared at me again, her mouth dropping open.
"Rochelle... what if I want to marry you and have this baby as a couple?"
Now she stared at me in wide-eyed disbelief. "What?" she cried.
"Will you marry me?"
"What?"
"Will you marry me?"
"What?"