"I'm not angry at you, but that doesn't mean I don't mind," said Carlos as he pulled Debbie into his arms. "So you need to make me happy."
"Okay. How about I sing a song for you?" She put her phone aside and cradled his neck.
"What? 'Pray for You' again?" Carlos asked through gritted teeth.
Debbie stuck out her tongue and made a face. "No, no, no! I don't want to be buried alive again. Grave mold is a bad look for me."
Her reaction amused Carlos, who pinched her nose and ordered playfully, "Then sing."
Debbie rested her head on his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. "This is my favorite song. Hope you'll enjoy it."
"Uh-huh."
Carlos moved the slider on the dimmer, and instantly the room was cloaked in darkness. The neon lights of the city came in through the window, bathing everything in the room in a curious cast of blue. Tucked in his arms, Debbie looked him in the eye and started to sing. "I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now. Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel-Air now. Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild. The crazy days, city lights, the way you'd play with me like a child. Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful…"
Carlos had long known that Debbie was a good singer. She seemed to have magic in her voice; his restless mind cooled down when she started singing. That was why he liked to hear her soaring vocals. She was able to hit some intense parts, and there were times when her voice went positively stratospheric. She was gifted, and he was a lucky man.
And singing had an effect on her as well. When she hit those emotional parts, her eyes would start tearing up. She was able to feel what she was doing, give it some punch from deep in her lungs and enthrall an audience. "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will. Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Dear Lord, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man. When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in. Father tell me if you can. Oh that grace, oh that body, oh that face makes me wanna party. He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds…"
His eyes were as deep as the ocean; she couldn't help but lose herself in them.
She finished off with a beautiful line. "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" As she crooned, her voice was low and angelic, as tender as a baby's skin, and as soft as new fallen snow. She relaxed finally, done with her rendition of Lana Del Rey's "Young and Beautiful". After a moment's pause, she added, "Will you?"
She was so nervous waiting for his answer.
Carlos lowered his head, kissed her on the forehead, and whispered in her ear, "Yes, I will."
The atmosphere between them was so tender and warm that they weren't willing to surrender to sleep. They were buzzing with all the pleasant emotions the song and Carlos' words had stirred in them. It was so wonderful that neither of them wanted it to end. Eventually, they agreed to close their eyes at the same time and fell asleep almost as soon as they did so.
The next morning, when Carlos dug Debbie out of the quilt, her schoolmates had already eaten their breakfast and left for Y City.
Debbie's eyes were still closed. Carlos made her sit on his lap, helped her pull on her slippers, and carried her to the bathroom.
"Need me to brush your teeth for you?" His voice snapped Debbie back to her senses. She looked at her messy hair in the mirror, and then turned to Carlos, who was already in his suit. Like being hit with a slap, she was able to take full stock of the situation.
"No, I'm good. When did you get up? I had no clue. Has everyone gone?"
"Yeah. They're on their way to Y City. I've been up for 3 hours already." He answered her questions patiently and helped her squeeze the toothpaste onto her brush.
She splashed some water on her face, and took over her toothbrush. "Don't worry. I'll be quick."
"No rush. I'll wait in the dining room."
Carlos left and checked the time before he started working—it was 10:05 a.m.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Debbie began her morning skin care routine. First, a skin toner to get rid of excess dirt, traces of oil and makeup, and correct and balance the pH of her skin. She also didn't want acne. Then, an antioxidant serum to neutralize sun damage. Finally, an eye cream and moisturizer. She followed this routine dutifully—Carlos wanted her to look radiant. At the last, she changed her clothes.
When she showed up in the dining room, it was already 10:45 a.m.
Although Carlos was patient, he was a little stunned and confused. 'She said she would be quick, but it still took 40 minutes.
If she hadn't rushed, how long would it have been?' He closed the lid on his laptop and walked up to his wife, who was shoveling food into her mouth, devouring her breakfast like a wolf devouring its kill. "Take your time. Don't choke."
Debbie paused and asked, "You eat already?"
"Yeah. But I can join you if you want." He sat opposite her, picked up a boiled egg, and began to peel it. Watching him was fascinating, because he was so good at it. He rolled the egg on the table to form cracks all over the shell, and then he squeezed the ends. The result was that the shell slid off in a few seconds, and created a minimum of mess.
When Debbie finished her breakfast, she was quite full. She stood up from her seat, but Carlos picked up the last waffle and lifted it to her lips.
She rubbed her tummy and complained, "I thought you were eating too, but I pigged out on this." All he had done was put food onto her plate.
He had only taken a bite or two.
"Full?" he asked.
Debbie nodded immediately. As if she was afraid that he didn't trust her, she lifted her sweater and showed him her big belly. "People might think I'm pregnant," she mumbled, pouting her lips.
"Who cares what they think?" Carlos cleaned his hands with a wet napkin and stood next to her.
"No! I'm still a student. If you get me pregnant, I won't forgive you!" Debbie threatened Carlos with burning eyes.
Not until then did Debbie realize something very important. She raised her fists and beat his chest repeatedly. "You didn't use any condoms. Nor did I take any pills. What if I get pregnant? You promised me you'd use condoms. Liar! All men are sleazebags! Go buy me the morning-after pill!"
Carlos grabbed her wrists and asked with dark eyes, "You don't want to have my baby?"
Debbie was scared by his fierce look. 'We've talked about it before. Why is he asking me again?' she mused. After some consideration, she answered, "You got me wrong. If I were pregnant, I would give birth to it."
He was satisfied with her answer.
But she was not pleased, as Carlos didn't keep his promise. All of a sudden, a light bulb went off in her mind. "If we have a baby in the future, I'll teach our baby to call 'Daddy' first."
"Why?" Carlos asked in confusion.
"In that case, our baby would say 'Daddy' when wetting the bed or getting hungry. Hahaha! It would be you who gets up at midnight to change the diaper…"
Carlos' heart softened at the mention of their future child.
He decided to play along with his wife, who was putting on her down jacket. "Honey, don't worry. If you gave birth to a baby, I would hire ten nannies to take care of you and our baby. So you should teach the baby to say 'Nanny' instead."
"But I heard some nannies would hurt babies, like feeding them sleeping pills so that they won't cry all day," she retorted.
"No one would do that to MY baby!" Carlos spoke with curt finality.
Rolling her eyes, Debbie zipped up her jacket and snapped back, "What if they did it behind closed doors?"
"Well then, teach our baby to say 'Grandma' and 'Grandpa' first," Carlos said with a shrug.
"So, you're trying to tell me you won't take care of our baby, huh?"
A cold shiver suddenly ran down Carlos' spine. "That depends…" He could only give her a vague response so that she wouldn't be pissed off. But on the inside, he retorted, 'Of course I won't be taking care of my baby. I hate babies; they're a pain in the butt.'
Debbie remembered Carlos was fond of boys, so she asked, "If it's a boy, will you take care of him then?"
"No," he answered shortly.
Taking a deep breath, she continued to pry, "What if it's a girl?" Debbie was fuming inside. 'He doesn't seem to like children at all. Then why is he dying to have a baby? Does he just want to torture me by letting me give birth to a baby? Or does he want to have a baby with someone else?'
'A girl?' Carlos pondered. The man, who had always wanted a boy, hesitated right now. 'A girl…'
