Sully's Fantasy

Eleanor’s cheeks burned. “Your wife is right. You sound like a gypsy fortune teller.”

“I suppose if my enterprise of diamonds fails, I could earn my keep that way.” Jethro laughed.

I chuckled, squeezing Eleanor’s knee under the table. “I believe I won our bet, Jinx.”

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “In the words of Kes Hawk...cheater.”

“I didn’t cheat. I just had insider knowledge.” I chuckled. “But I’m still going to make you pay.”

Eleanor blushed harder. “I’m not discussing orgasm payments at the breakfast table.”

Jethro burst into laughter.

Nila giggled and kindly changed the subject. “Do you have children of your own?”

Eleanor rubbed at her flaming cheek, grateful for the topic switch. “No. We don’t. And please don’t say the politically correct ‘Oh, I’m sorry’. Don’t be. It’s a personal choice.”

“A joint decision.” I squeezed Eleanor’s knee again. “We currently have over four hundred rescues under our protection with more arriving every week. That is where our heart lies. With the abused, unwanted, and homeless.”

“I love that.” Nila smiled. “You get to nurture something that desperately needs it.”

Eleanor nodded. “Give me any kind of creature, and I have an unbearable need to care and snuggle and protect. But give me a child, and I don’t know what to do with it.” She laughed gently. “I’m not maternal for my own kind.”

Nila returned Eleanor’s laugh. “I completely understand, especially now that I’m a mother, I can safely say that sometimes I look at wild animals and think they’re so much better behaved than my own offspring. Even though they drive me loopy, I love them with everything that I am.”

My mind turned inward, recalling the conversation Eleanor and I had shared two years or so into our marriage. I’d never once, in all my years, ever wanted a kid of my own. Why the hell would I want to add to the already overpopulated human race when I couldn’t stand us as a species? My legacy and fortune had already been bequeathed to shelters and my own personal rescue charities, so I didn’t need an heir to inherit.

It never occurred to me to have the conversation about children with my wife.

Our world was perfect. Nothing was missing.

But it’d been Cal who told me I should at least ask Eleanor. That it wasn’t normal for a couple not to discuss the choice to breed or not.

It’d taken a few nights to get up the courage. What if Eleanor did want kids? Where did that leave us? The thought of putting her at risk with impregnation? Of watching her be in pain? I despised the thought of it. But I’d forced myself to ask on a particularly romantic evening on our deck overlooking Nirvana. A pair of macaws got frisky in a palm tree above our heads, giving me a sign to ask a troubling question.

I’d turned to Jinx, swallowed back my fear, and asked, “Do you want children, Eleanor?”

She’d frozen.

Our ease and drowsiness from a delicious dinner vanished as she bolted off her lounger and paced in front of me. Raking hands through her hair, she’d licked her lips and made me wait for an agonising few minutes.

I’d tried to read her.

Tried to figure out what the panic on her face meant. Did she desperately want them and didn’t have the courage to tell me? Did she hate me for not asking sooner—

“Do you want kids?” she’d fired back, wringing her hands, her grey eyes dark with worry.

“I asked you first.” I sat up, clasping my hands between my legs as I swung my feet to the deck. “Yes or no?”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to be truthful. Her shoulders braced as she blurted, “It goes without saying that I want you to be happy, and if you want kids, then...I suppose we can discuss options like adoption or...I don’t know.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “But if I’m being honest about what I want, I have no interest in children of my own. None. Zip. Never.” She stood trembling, waiting for me to stand and pad barefoot toward her.

Cupping her cheek, I nuzzled her nose with mine. “Well, thank fuck for that.”

She almost puddled at my feet in relief. “You’re saying you don’t want them either?”

“Never in a million years.”

“So you’re fine, just us?”

“I’m fine with you.” I kissed her hard. “I’m fine with our rescues and our animals and our family as it stands with Pika, Skittles, Cal, and Jess.” I kissed her deeper. “I’m more than fine. I’m so fucking happy and it’s all because of you. You’re perfect, and I don’t need or want anything else.”

She kissed me back, shaking as she threw her arms around my shoulders. “I love you, Sully. I love that we’re the same in all the ways that matter. Our animals are our children. Feathered, furred, scaled, and everything in between.”

That night, we’d had sex that lasted until dawn. Reaffirming our vows. Acknowledging that we had no holes that needed to be filled or regrets we hadn’t discussed.

We chose to stay committed to us. To our creatures. To our wonderful, idyllic life together.

If that was selfish, so fucking what? I believed by not having kids, we were helping the world with one less human to house.

Jethro interrupted my musing with his knowing stare. I sipped from my water glass, glowering back. “Quit reading me.”

“But you’re so interesting.” He smirked as he chewed on a piece of cooked tomato. “Fascinating really. You’re so unapologetically steadfast.” He put his fork down. “When we first met, you were equally steadfast, just...in a much darker way.”

“How so?” Eleanor piped up.

I threw her a look. “He means because of what I used to do.”

“Before that. Before you started your side business unrelated to pharmaceuticals.”

I froze. “You knew about that?”

Jethro shrugged. “I was aware you were doing something illegal, and you didn’t feel bad about it. I don’t know exactly what you were doing, because our talks were always by phone, and I don’t pick up nearly as much just by someone’s voice, but I was aware—almost to the day, in fact, when your thoughts weren’t so...angry. You’d found an outlet toward the hate you felt toward people.”

Eleanor tensed as I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I did find an outlet by using the rules humans set for animal welfare against them. And you’re also right that it did help the injustice in my mind. But it wasn’t morally acceptable, and Eleanor helped me realise I couldn’t keep exploiting any living creature.”

Jethro raised his glass in a toast. “To our mutual personal growth thanks to our women.”

“Here, here.” I clinked my glass with his.

A companionable silence fell, a welcome reprieve to fill plates with delicious home-cooked fare and to indulge in a nutritious breakfast.

The Hawk children came dashing back in halfway through our meal. Emma had a dead mouse in her hand, and Kes had a falcon balancing on his forearm with its plumage ruffled and wings spread against the chaos of being tethered to a kid.

Jethro immediately put his knife and fork down, signalling Kes to bring him the falcon. “Did you go up to the mews without permission, Kes?”