“Me and Pavel? I think it’s a bit soon, don’t you?”
“I meant generally,” said Avery. She turned to include Lucky too. “Both of you. Growing up, did you want kids? Do you now?”
Bonnie thought about this.
“I love kids, but with my career…I can’t imagine it.” She smiled. “Maybe when I retire.”
Avery looked at Lucky.
“What about you?”
Lucky grimaced as she swallowed a hunk of her everything bagel.
“Dude, I’m just trying to keep myself alive right now.”
“But you do, right?” Bonnie asked Avery. “Didn’t Chiti freeze her eggs?”
Avery glanced toward the playground.
“Nicky really wanted children,” she said. “She was made for it.”
Bonnie nodded. “She would have been the best mom.”
“Mm-hmm,” murmured Lucky in agreement. “Much better than ours.”
“Not exactly a high bar to vault,” said Avery. Then, feeling guilty, she added, “But she did her best.”
“Fair.” Lucky sniffed, then suddenly laughed. “Oh god, remember when we all thought Nicky was going to get knocked up by that vegan trumpet player?”
“He was nice, wasn’t he?” asked Bonnie.
“He was very vegan,” said Avery.
“So?” said Bonnie.
“He had a tattoo sleeve of endangered species on his arm,” said Avery.
“The skinny polar bear!” cried Lucky, and they all laughed.
“He was such a weird choice for her after all those frat guys she dated in college,” said Lucky.
“Chad!” said Avery, and they all laughed again.
“I think she was trying to connect to her creative side,” said Bonnie.
“The vegan came to the funeral,” said Avery.
“I don’t remember him there,” said Lucky.
“You didn’t hear him?” said Avery. “He was the one crying loudly in the back. Totally lost his shit.”
“But they weren’t even together anymore,” said Lucky. “Nicky broke up with him for that hot hedge funder with the ball fetish. What did she used to call him?”
“Lick-and-Handle-My-Balls,” said Bonnie, and she and Lucky laughed.
“I hated that funeral,” said Avery, staring ahead.
Lucky stopped laughing and looked at her.
“Well, yeah, Aves, we all did. Obviously.”
“All those other people loudly grieving,” continued Avery, her voice flinty. “What did they know? What the fuck did they know what it was like to lose her?”
“People were sad,” murmured Bonnie. “It was a sad thing.”
“But it wasn’t their sadness,” said Avery. “It was ours.”
“Sometimes I wish she’d just had a baby,” said Lucky suddenly. “With anyone, you know, Chad, the vegan, Lick-and-Handle-My-Balls, who cares? Then she could have had the surgery earlier.”
Avery winced. It was too painful to consider.
“She was so young,” she said. “And she didn’t love those guys.”
“But if she had,” continued Lucky. “Even if she’d still…At least we’d have someone, you know? Someone left who was partly her that we could look after.”
“We’re partly her,” said Avery.
“I know,” said Lucky quietly. “But with a baby, we’d get a new chance. With a baby, we’d…” Lucky paused to think what she was trying to say. “Do better,” she settled on forlornly.
