Page 8 of Sportsball is for Lovers

She wanted to have our kids baptized and raised in the church, and that was something I just couldn’t cave on. Even though I’m not sure I want children, if I were to have them, I would absolutely want them to be raised in the same secular Jewish culture I was.

For now, though… it’s all hypothetical.

“I’m happy, Jare,” Yoni tells me as the waiter delivers our shared dessert. “I really am.”

“That’s all I want for you, Yo-yo.”

He smiles and looks down at his drink, hesitation written on his face.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“El wants kids,” he blurts.

I sit back. “Oh.”

“And I…”

“Do you?” I ask gently.

“I think?” My brother looks like he’s guessing at a geography question and not a life-altering decision.

“You kind of need to be sure about this.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I’m not… I want kids, I do, but I don’t think it’s the right time, and there’s the money involved in egg donation and then a surrogacy, and I just…” He blows out a breath.

“It’s a lot.” My words are quiet.

He nods. “It is. I’m not saying no, you know? I just—not right now.”

“If not now, when?”

Yoni rolls his eyes at me. “Don’t quote Rabbi Hillel at me.”

I pause—and then repeating the words to myself, I laugh. It’s a famous Jewish proverb. “I swear I didn’t intend to.”

He seems a little more relaxed, though. “We’ve only been married for a year and a half,” he points out. “I think we need to be a little more established together.”

They got married quick; from first date to engagement was seven months, and then the wedding was three months later. They were happy. They are happy.

But that doesn’t mean they need to jump into the next step if either of them aren’t ready.

“It’s okay to do things in your own time, and they should be supporting you in figuring out a timeline that works for both of you.”

“What about you?” Yoni asks me.

“What about me?”

“Do you have any plans?”

“Like…?” My eyebrows lift.

“Like when are you going to date someone for longer than a week?” he snarks.

I don’t take his words as the cutting remark he intended. “When I’m not on the road for eight months a year,” I fire back. “But until I can get an in-studio job, I kind of have to go where the work goes.”

“You could do long distance,” he points out. “Plenty of people⁠—”

“I’m not interested,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t like having to keep up with and check in on anyone. I’m selfish. I want to prioritize myself and my career for now.”