by Julie Clark
When I was in third grade, I overheard my friend’s mother confide that she hoped her new baby would finally be the boy her husband had been waiting for. As if my friend and her younger sisters were placeholders that didn’t count. I wondered if things would have been different had I been a boy. If my father might have stuck around if there’d been a son worth staying for.
There’s no denying the Y chromosome is special. It’s the smallest of the twenty-three chromosomes that a father passes on to his son. But while other chromosomes recombine with those from the mother, the Y chromosome is passed on in its entirety. It wasn’t until the late-twentieth century that we learned the Y chromosome wasn’t the same in all men. We can now look at a group of men and trace the paternal line based on tiny variations on their Y. These differences provide a road map through time, allowing us to chase paternity back to one common ancestor.
The oxytocin inhibitor lives on the Y chromosome, making it an inherited trait. This means men are genetically predisposed to engagement or apathy. And with this discovery comes great hope—saving millions of children from the misery Rose and I endured. I want to eliminate the effect of the oxytocin inhibitor gene, and with it, the story of loss that so many people pass on to the next generation.
No part of my father’s Y chromosome exists in me or Rose. Miles carries his donor’s Y, and Mikey and Josh carry Henry’s. Whatever flaws might be found on my father’s Y will end with him.
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Liam lives on a small walk street, a pedestrian-only enclave. Tall trees flank the property, giving a sense of privacy and security. I forget sometimes how much money Liam makes designing video games that generate millions of dollars in sales. To me, he’s just Liam. But he lives in an amazing cottage with a sunny window seat and a tiny retro kitchen renovated with yellow and black tiles and a vintage Aga stove he never uses.
After dropping Miles off with Rose, I let myself in with my key and Liam calls out from his office, “Five more minutes and I’m all yours.”
I kick off my shoes and lie down on the couch. It’s been several weeks since I’ve been here. My eyes catch on a book left out on top of the bookshelf. Structures of Life: Organic and Biological Chemistry 2nd Edition. I smile at the image of Liam, home alone and studying one of his old chemistry textbooks as a way to connect with my child.
Liam emerges from his office and sits on the end of the couch, lifting my feet into his lap. He starts massaging my left foot and a tiny groan escapes me.
“What do you want to do tonight?” he asks. “Dinner on Main Street? A movie?”
“Just this.” I wiggle my right foot, and his fingers knead the arch, a week of standing in the lab and at the front of a lecture hall melting away. Nights at Liam’s are my chance to escape, to step into an alternate reality where I have no responsibilities. I don’t have to force anyone to take a bath, brush teeth, or get to bed on time.
“How’s Miles liking karate?”
I half expected an I told you so when I first told him I’d signed Miles up. But of course, being Liam, he just smiled and said, “Good.” So far, Miles has loved the discipline and the power of it. He’s even talked to a few of the kids in his class, which makes me hope that he’ll have more than just Nick on his list of friends.
“He tells me he uses his mental ninja to ward off Ethan.”
Liam snorts. “I’ll have to try that one the next time my boss tries to staff me on dual projects.”
He slides my feet off his lap and turns so he’s facing me. “So listen,” he says. “I met your dad the other day when I was over at Rose and Henry’s.”
I stiffen. “Rose never told me she was spending time with him, that he was going over there.”
“He asked about you.”
“Really? Strange, he’s not one for updates.”
He rests his elbows on his knees and looks at me. “I just . . . I don’t know. He seemed really sad. Like, hungry for any little thing I could tell him about you.”
“I spent most of my childhood feeling that way. I’m glad he knows what it’s like.”
“Paige,” Liam says. “Maybe you could give him a break.”
I sit up and hug my arms across my chest. “If you’re imagining facilitating some big reconciliation, stop right now. It’s not going to happen. Not all of us grew up with a scoutmaster for a father.”
Liam’s eyes bore into mine. “Have you considered how it might help Miles to have a relationship with his grandfather? I’ve tried to step up, but it isn’t me he wants.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Are you kidding me? After everything he put me through, you’re suggesting I offer up my child so my father can break his heart too?”
Liam clasps his hands in front of him and looks at me. “How could he hurt Miles?”
“By letting Miles get close to him and then packing a bag in the middle of the night and disappearing.”
“Miles isn’t you, Paige. I get that you’re hurt. You have every right to be. What your dad did to you and Rose was terrible. But Miles has a devoted parent who loves him. He’s got an incredible extended family that embraces him. You’ve done a tremendous job surrounding him with love. Even if your father decides to leave again, Miles will be okay. You made sure of that.”
I wander over to the bookshelves and pull the switch on the small lamp that sits on top, trying to distance myself from what he’s saying. I turn back to Liam. “You’re arguing both sides. Miles is craving a father figure. You’re suggesting I let my father play that role, and then in the next breath telling me that Miles will be fine if he leaves again. Maybe you’re right. Maybe Miles would be okay. But I can’t set my child up for something like that. Please don’t ask me to.” I’m trembling, angry and hurt that despite what I’ve told Liam about my father, he still doesn’t get it.
Liam crosses the room in two steps and folds me into a hug. He presses his lips to the top of my head and says, “Okay. I’m sorry.”
We stand that way until Liam’s phone rings from the other room. “I don’t need to get that,” he says.
I pull away, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “No, it’s okay. Go.”
Liam leaves, and I step into the kitchen and splash cold water on my face, drying it with a paper towel. What Liam said makes sense. Miles has a lot of people he can count on. But a relationship with Miles would require a relationship with me. And I’m not willing to give that.
Liam emerges from his office and stands in the doorway to the kitchen. “Let’s get some dinner. Anything you want.”
“Sushi,” I say.
He cringes. “I was going to say anything you want except sushi.”
“Sorry, too late.” I grab my coat, and we walk out the front door together, Liam’s arm holding me close to his side, right where I love to be.
—
We bring dessert home to eat in front of the TV. I unload two plastic containers of chocolate-chocolate cake onto the counter, feeling like a reset button has been pressed.
Liam pulls two plates from the cupboard behind us. “Normally, I’d eat this straight out of the box and use the plastic fork they throw into the bag,” he says. “But since you’re here, I’ll use real plates and silverware.”
“Classy,” I say, following him into the living room, where we settle onto the couch.
I’m just about to take my first bite of cake when my phone rings, and I see it’s Rose’s number. “Hello, Rose,” I say.
But it’s Miles. “Hey, Mom? Aunt Rose wanted me to call you because she doesn’t believe you let me watch Ninja Beasts.”
I sigh. “Put her on the phone.”
“Do you know what that show is like?” Rose’s voice is critical. “Have you even watched an episode?”
I close my eyes. “If you don’t want him to watch the show at your house, just tell him he can’t watch it at your house.”
“That’s beside the point,” Rose argues. “That show is trash. You should
n’t let him watch it at your house either.”
“Rose,” I say, mustering all of my patience. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? When I pick up Miles?”
“Sorry! Right. Talk tomorrow. Say hi to Liam for me.”
I hang up and say, “Rose says hi.”
Liam flips through shows on Netflix. “What do you want to watch?” he asks.
“How did we get here? Netflix on a Saturday night?” I laugh. “We’re so . . . domestic.”
Liam sets the remote on the table and pulls me closer, so that every inch of my body touches his, and smiles into my eyes. “Something wrong with domestic?” he whispers.
“Nothing at all,” I say, relaxing into his embrace.
He kisses the tip of my nose and then my lips and my neck. Tiny nerve endings explode, and I tip my head back, giving him better access. My breath quickens, and I press into him.
Liam takes my hand and leads me into his bedroom, and I leave my phone on the coffee table, unwilling to think about anything except him.
—
Later that night, we lay on the couch, the ending credits of House of Cards on TV and the remains of our dessert on the coffee table. Liam leans over and kisses my neck.
“I love your place,” I say. “It’s so quiet. Peaceful.”
He smiles. “That’s funny. Because I love your place. It’s a home. With people living real lives in it.”
“You never told me that before.”
Liam shrugs. “This place is nice. But it feels like a hotel. Somewhere I can sleep between days at work or time with you. It’s more of a waiting room than a home.”
I start to gather our plates, but Liam’s expression stops me. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking of the day I moved in here five years ago. I had just landed the job with New City Games, and my dad flew out to help me. We sat right out there, on the front step, with pizza and a six-pack. And he told me to enjoy my time here, but that the end goal wasn’t to have a career with a lot of money; it was to build a life and a family.”
I put the dishes back down, giving Liam my full attention. “I love your dad.”
Liam gives me a small smile and says, “He’s a smart man.” He looks down at the hardwood floor, nudging the edge of the blue-and-green rug that covers part of it with his toe. When he looks up again, his eyes are worried, the crease between them more pronounced. “He said, Be patient. Be a good man, and good things will come.”
I move toward him, slipping my arms around his waist. “You are a good man. And this is good.”
Gently, he pushes me back so that he’s looking at me. “But I’m still in this limbo.”
I try to read his face. “What are you trying to say?”
“I feel like my real life is with you. And Miles. And when I’m not with you, I’m just . . . waiting.”
My eyes scan the living room. Clusters of photographs—Liam and his parents, Liam and me, and even one I managed to snap of Liam and Miles—dot the surfaces, and I imagine him here alone every night. Dumping his take-out containers in the recycling bin. Wiping down an already clean counter. Putting his single dish and fork into the dishwasher, where they would probably sit for weeks before it’s full enough to run a load. I remember what it’s like to live alone, being free to stay up late or sleep in, to eat whenever I want, to work late at the lab, or to go for a predawn run. I feel constrained by a life that is still so solitary in so many ways, yet so filled with the love of another.
Liam pulls me close to him again. “I want more than this, Paige. More than a weekly dinner at Rose’s and occasional overnights where I can kiss you good night and fall asleep next to you. I want to be there for all of it.”
What Liam wants isn’t unreasonable. But it’s the opposite of what Miles wants, and once again I’m caught between the two of them.
The Netflix menu is still displayed on his large-screen TV, and he picks up the remote and turns it off. I’m on edge, knowing where this conversation is going. We look at each other, neither of us speaking.
Finally, I say, “I want what you want, Liam. Don’t ever doubt that.”
He leans forward. “Good. Then let’s make a plan to get there.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is simple. It can be as simple as we want it to be. I love you. You love me. I want a life with you. With Miles. I’ll take as long as you need me to take, but I want to know where we’re going.”
“It’s never that simple with a child. You know that.” A small thread on the couch cushion catches my attention, and I pull on it gently, twisting it between my fingers.
“I’m not suggesting I move in next week,” he says. “But I’d like to start going in that direction. Maybe we take a trip, just the three of us. Or maybe I start spending one night a month there, to get Miles used to the idea.”
I’m shaking my head, my thoughts knotted, trying to untangle the complications of what he’s suggesting. Already, I’m imagining what it would be like to see Miles wake up and find Liam asleep in my bed. “You make it sound like it’ll be simple for him to learn how to adapt. But it’s his home too. His life, and I have to put his needs first.”
“I’m not some guy you just met, Paige. We’ve been together over a year. Miles has known me almost his entire life. It doesn’t get much safer than that.”
I look out the window, streaks of color fading into a dark sky. “It’s not a matter of safety. I just don’t think the timing is right.”
Liam looks away from me. “Either you want me in your life, or you don’t. You wouldn’t let me come to the picnic, you reject my advice about the bullying—”
“I didn’t,” I interrupt. “I signed him up for karate.”
“After the fact. Your first response is always no. You insist on keeping me an outsider, only letting me in when it suits you. When it feels safe. All I’m asking is for you to commit to a plan to move forward. Like I said, nothing has to happen now. We can go as slow as you want. Just let me in.”
I swipe the hair off my forehead. “I let you in. I’ve given you more than I’ve ever given to anyone else. You know my family. You know my son. How can you say I don’t let you into my life?”
Liam shakes his head, incredulous. “You have so many walls built up around you, you can’t even see them.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I say. “I’m giving you everything I’ve got.”
“You’re not,” Liam says. “You’re giving me everything you want to give. There’s a big difference.”
Just then my phone buzzes. A text from Miles from Rose’s number.
I forgot my karate clothes. Can you bring them when you pick me up?
Liam watches me read the text, and my fingers itch to reply. But I don’t. If I don’t pay attention and think about what I’m saying, I might lose something precious.
I flash back to a memory. I don’t know how old I am, but I’m crying. My father sweeps past me, suitcase in hand, and Rose grabs at his leg as he’s walking out the door. My mother picks her up and wipes away her tears, oblivious to her own. And I realize now, I don’t want to ever live through that again. My reluctance is about protecting Miles, but it’s also about protecting myself. Although Liam knows all parts of my heart, he doesn’t know all parts of my life. My tendency to yell at bedtime. The times Miles gets so frustrated with a game or a project that he clenches his fists and kicks things across the room. As much as I love Liam, he’s still an outsider I’m afraid to let all the way in.
I set myself on this course years ago, before I knew what I wanted or what the cost would be. “I don’t want to fight with you tonight,” I tell him. “Can we table this for another time?”
“When, Paige? While we’re at dinner at Rose’s? Or when I’m hanging out at your place, being ignored by Miles? This is the only private time we get.”
“Which is why I don’t want to waste it.”
“That’s the difference between you and me,” he says.
“I don’t think this conversation is a waste.” He grabs the remote and pulls up another episode of House of Cards, his face a mask I can’t read.
“I’m sorry,” I say, though the words are barely a whisper. I want to pull him toward me, brush the hair off his forehead, and reassure him that my life belongs with him, that someday we can have what he wants. But I can’t. I stare at the screen, the three feet between us feeling like a mile.
GENETIC DISORDERS
* * *
A genetic disorder is defined as a medical condition caused by a DNA abnormality, which can be inherited in several different ways:
Autosomal Dominant: One mutated copy of the gene is enough for a person to be affected by the condition. Ex: Huntington’s, Marfan syndrome
Autosomal Recessive: Both copies of the gene in each cell must have the mutation in order for it to manifest. Meaning, the parents each must have at least one copy of the mutated gene that they pass forward to offspring. Ex: cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease
X-Linked Dominant: Caused by mutations on the X chromosome. In females (who have two X chromosomes), the condition may, or may not, present. But in males (who only have one X chromosome), a mutation on the only copy of the gene will cause the disorder. Ex: fragile X syndrome
X-Linked Recessive: Also caused by mutations on the X chromosome. In males (with only one copy), the condition will manifest. In females, a mutation would have to occur in both copies of the X chromosome to cause the disorder. Ex: hemophilia, Fabry disease
Y-Linked: A mutated gene on the Y chromosome will cause the disorder. Because only males have a Y chromosome, the mutation can only be passed from father to son. Ex: Y chromosome infertility, oxytocin inhibitor gene
Mitochondrial: This applies to genes in the mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA). Only females can pass these mutations on; however, they will pass to both male and female offspring. These mutations can appear in every generation; however, fathers cannot pass these disorders on to their children. Ex: Leber hereditary optic neuropathy
