AN AGREEMENT

Justin and Theresa were walking back to their apartment after going to see a movie on Saturday night. It was mid-July, and the air was balmy. There were many people out and about, coming from restaurants and going to bars and cafés. They stopped off at an ice cream parlor and got cones, which they enjoyed as they walked along slowly down the thoroughfare. They both agreed that the movie they had seen had been very sad, and Theresa especially seemed very pensive.

They had been together for five years after meeting in medical school. They worked in the same hospital—he as an oncologist, she in internal medicine. They liked their jobs, lived in a very nice apartment, and both had good friends who they could depend on. As their relationship had developed, they had come to an understanding—and even an agreement—that they would not get married, deciding that marriage was a needless institution, and that they would not have children, mostly because they were both career-driven people.

Lately, however, they had noticed more of a distance developing between themselves, which neither of them could explain. They seemed to have less to talk about, less things in common, and they fought, though their fights were passive, and rarely if ever did either raise their voice to the other.

As they walked along, Justin tried to engage Theresa by recalling various scenes from the movie, but she showed little interest. Then, suddenly, Theresa stopped in her tracks in front of a woman’s clothing store, and looked in through the window at a dress on display. It was a little girl’s dress—green with a pleated skirt and a yellow sash. “That’s a pretty dress,” she said.

“It is pretty,” said Justin. “But it’s a little small, don’t you think?”

“Of course it is,” said Theresa, playfully. “It’s a girl’s dress. But I like it. You don’t see dresses like that anymore. At least on grown women.”

“That’s why it’s a girls’ dress,” said Justin, who knew this subtle jab would go over.

“You know what I mean,” said Theresa. She looked at the dress for a long time, then sighed, turned and started walking.

She was very pensive. “What are you thinking about?” Justin asked her.

“Oh, nothing special.”

“The movie?”

“No! Though, it was a sad movie. But I’m over it. It was just a movie. Movies can be sad, but I think life can be a lot sadder, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” said Justin, not sure what she was driving at. “Are you sad?”

“Me? No. Not sad, really. Just…”

“Anxious?”

“Anxious…No, I wouldn’t say I’m anxious, either. Dubious! That’s what I am. Dubious.”

“What are you dubious about?”

“Well, it just makes me wonder…If you can’t know for certain that you actually want something until you have it…or rather, no. What am I saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying?”

“Well, let’s say I were to go and buy that dress.”

There was a long pause. Justin was waiting for her to finish her thought, but she didn’t.

“Yes?” he said.

“What I’m saying is, I am not certain of anything anymore.”

“Not certain? You mean, about you and me?”

“No! I am certain that I love you. But…Oh, let’s drop it!”

“Are you sure?” Justin asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

When they got home, they each took up their reading material and drank a glass of wine, then went to bed. As Justin slept, Theresa lay in bed. She couldn’t get the image of the little girl’s dress out of her mind. Finally, she put her hand on Justin’s shoulder and shook him awake. “I want children,” she said.

Justin looked at her for a long time through the darkness. “Are you sure?” he finally asked.

Theresa nodded. Justin sat up.

“When did things change?” he asked her.

“They’ve been changing slowly, incrementally. And then tonight, that really depressing movie, and then seeing that dress…”

Justin was silent.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” said Justin. “Both of our careers have just started. Are you sure you want to bring children into our lives?”

“I don’t see what our careers have to do with it. I want children. More than I want anything else. Are you afraid?”

“Yes, I am afraid,” said Justin. “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe. Only, my desire outweighs my fear. I guess, somehow, I am getting over my fear. Can’t you?”

Justin thought. The idea of having a child made him realize that he had been afraid the majority of his life, and this was unsettling to him. There had been minor fears which he had overcome, but they all seemed so paltry to him now. This new fear—which had really always been there—seemed to rise from the very depths of his being. It seemed to be overcoming him. But then, right at that moment, Theresa kissed him, and then the fear disappeared. They fell onto the bed together, both knowing that their love was now much greater than it had ever been before. Every kiss seemed imbued with more passion, every touch with more vitality. Their embrace seemed to make of them a single, preternaturally powerful being, one which had the potential to create something even more powerful, and knowing this, they were both afraid and exhilarated, and yet calm and empowered at the same time. As Justin let out his final, unmitigated moan of pleasure, it was as if his love for her had found its true purpose, and he fell, exhausted and satiated, into her arms, feeling her warm embrace like the embrace of a great goddess, a mother who would hold him till the morning came.

Daniel Senser is thirty-eight years old and has been writing for nearly twenty years. He works as a receptionist at a gym in Cincinnati, Ohio.