by Penny Wylder
She continues. “Now, this final rule is very important and must be heeded.” She pauses for emphasis. “You are absolutely never permitted to fall in love. And if, for someone reason that happens during the process, you are never to act on it. Your relationship with your donor is exclusive to this club. No outside contact.”
I giggle at that, because who could possibly fall in love with someone in such a clinical setting? It would be like getting turned on during a pap-smear. No. Not going to happen.
Mosaic doesn’t laugh, though. She doesn’t seem to think there is anything remotely entertaining about it.
I stifle my laughter and clear my throat.
“This club is for women who have shrugged off the constricting labels of what’s expected of them. They’re able to have children without the drama and stress of conventional relationships. This is isn’t a dating service or high-price escort company. These rules are important for my reputation and the future of this business model. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I say.
I do understand and it sounds amazing. Exactly what I’m looking for. I’ve tried the old-fashioned way and look where it’s gotten me: single and alone. Mosaic is offering me a chance to have a baby. I wouldn’t ever betray her confidence.
“What do the men get out of it?” I ask.
Mosaic smiles. The first genuine smile I’ve seen from her yet. She leans back in her chair and looks relaxed for the first time as well. “Men are men. They get to fuck freely and have no repercussions. But trust me, we don’t let just anyone into our club. It’s elite. We’re very picky about that. They are vetted thoroughly. Their sperm is tested for vitality and numbers. Whichever man is chosen for you will no doubt give you the results you’re looking for.”
It all sounds so wonderfully perfect. But there’s just one thing …
I start to fidget, and Mosaic, with those sharp eyes, doesn’t miss a thing. “Is there something wrong?”
“No—well, not really. It’s just that I’m not a wealthy person. I have a good job, but all of this,” I say, waving my hand around at the expensive building and all its fancy furnishings, “might be out of my budget.”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ll find our service won’t break the bank like traditional fertility clinics. We also have very reasonable payment plans. It matters more to me that someone who wants to be a mom gets that chance.”
I’m so relieved by her words that I start to choke up. I swallow and stand when she does. She reaches a hand out to me and we shake. This time her grip is looser, less business, and more of a friendly gesture.
“Wait here and Nadia will be right with you to finish up with the paperwork. You’ll need to sign several NDAs before you leave.”
“NDAs?” I ask, confused.
“Non-disclosure agreements.”
“Oh, right, of course.” I feel like I’m becoming part of something special. A secret society. Which, I guess I sort of am.
“Once you’re finished with the paperwork, we’ll figure out when you’re fertile and schedule appointments for that window.”
“Thank you so much.”
My heart races. I’m so excited. To think, I’m going to be a mom. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
2
The next week passes and I can’t think of anything else. My nerves build until I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. What if it doesn’t take? What if I never get pregnant? I never thought of that being a possibility before, but now the doubt won’t leave my mind. I wasn’t always careful when I was with previous boyfriends and I never once had a scare. My periods are so predictable you could set your clock by them. This has to work.
Running errands in the days before my “date,” I notice babies everywhere. At the market, an adorable little girl catches my eye. She’s dressed in a red gingham jumper and clutching a well-loved stuffed bunny. Her chubby cheeks are red with health and her little laugh fills the frozen food aisle. I have to stop myself from touching the halo of soft hair on her head. She’s perfect. The baby I’ve always dreamed of.
But then, a few feet away, I see a man and a woman. Her parents. They walk back to the stroller smiling at each other and holding hands. As soon as she catches her daddy’s eye, she lights up and squeals for him, lifting up her chubby arms. How is it possible she could be any happier? That’s when it hits me. Am I right to deprive my future child of a father? A man who will dote on and adore a child of his own? And the way the parents look at each other, sharing the joy and delight of their perfect creation. I’ll miss out on that, and the idea feels achingly lonely.
I also calculate my budget again and again. My job provides me with excellent benefits and maternity leave, but having a child is a big financial responsibility, especially in an expensive city like Los Angeles. I don’t have any family around to help me, and all my friends are busy with their own lives. If I do this, I’ll really be on my own. Me, myself and I will be the sole provider for this child.
Ultimately though, it occurs to me, with this baby, I won’t be alone any longer. I’ll finally have someone who loves me. For the first time I’ll have true love, the kind of love that’s unconditional and dependable. I decide there will never be the perfect man or the perfect circumstances to have a baby. So despite my nerves, I keep my appointment.
It never occurs to me to be nervous about the act of making the baby itself until I get back to the club for my first appointment with my donor. I was so worried about getting pregnant and being a single mother that I forgot all about the critical step. I’m going to have sex with a strange man. Today. I guess it’s a good thing I never miss a wax appointment.
My mind starts to spin out. What if he’s not attractive? I’m sure he won’t be ugly. This place wouldn’t be as successful as it is if they let in some creepy troll off the streets. But everyone has different tastes. Megan’s husband, for instance. He’s a good-looking guy, I suppose, and Megan thinks he’s just the sexiest thing in the world, but he would not be the guy I would choose for myself, or someone I would want to share DNA with my child. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Mosaic never said anything about choices. She just said they would be picking the man for me. How do they choose?
As I walk into the waiting room, I have a sudden urge to walk right out again. I don’t think I can do this. I’m ready for a child, but I’m not ready to have sex with some random guy someone else has chosen for me.
“Kate, your room is all ready for you,” Nadia says from the front desk just as I’m deciding to leave. She comes around the desk and motions me to follow her.
Damn. It’s too late to back out now, I suppose. Besides, I’ve already paid the first installment and there is a strict no refund policy. I work too hard for my money to waste it.
I take a deep breath and follow Nadia.
We go into an elevator. She chats about the weather, her busy morning, about how the phones never stop ringing and how they are so busy these days that they are going to be hiring another receptionist to help her out. I’m barely listening though. I pick up on enough details of our one-sided conversation to make small comments, but really all I can think about is what’s going to happen when I enter the baby-making room. Is there going to be a gynecologist table with stirrups? Will there be someone supervising the act to make sure we don’t break any of the rules? It doesn’t say anything about the procedure in the paperwork they gave me.
When we get out of the elevator, we walk down a long hallway lined with doors. Each door has a number on it. Nadia has a chart in her hand. I glance over her shoulder and see my name with the number eleven next to it. We walk past doors one through eight, and the butterflies in my stomach are frantic. My hearts beating faster as we pass ten, and I feel like I might pass out.
Shit, I’m sweating. That’s not good. I don’t want to be all sweaty when my pants come off. It starts to feel like a sauna in here. This hallway feels less like a luxury hotel and more like the hallway in the The Shining when all
the blood spills out of the elevator.
I stop. Nadia is still prattling on. She stops when she notices I’m no longer following behind her.
She turns to me, looking confused until she sees my face. A slow, reassuring smile plays at her lips. “Nervous?” she says.
“That’s an understatement.”
“It’s perfectly normal. But I assure you that this will be a great experience. If at all you start to feel uncomfortable, you can stop the process. And if you don’t find our choice in partner to be to your liking, we will find someone different.”
I’m flooded with relief from her words and she can see it. She laughs. “Maybe I should have mentioned that part earlier.”
“It might’ve helped,” I say good-naturedly.
I start to follow her again until we reach my room and then we stop. “I will leave you to it. Here is your keycard.” She hands me a hotel type card with a magnetic strip on the back. “Only those with a card can get into the rooms, so never open the door for anyone who doesn’t have one of these. There’s a phone in the room. Call down to the front desk if you need anything.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Nadia leaves and I continue to just stand there, staring at the door. I guess this is it. I’m about to make a baby with a complete stranger. I square my shoulders and try to summon as much courage as I possibly can. If I want to have a baby, I have to do this. It’s now or never.
With a deep breath, I scan my card and turn the door handle, then I walk inside.
3
I’m early, so luckily, I’m the only one in the room. I want to get a feel for the place before we jump into the action. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting the room to look like, but it was nothing like this. I guess I was thinking the experience would be more like a doctor’s visit with vinyl chairs, tile floors, whitewashed and smelling of disinfectant. But it’s nothing like that. The room is cozy. The bed is plush with an expensive-looking bed set in rust colors. There are candles all around that smell like vanilla, but they aren’t lit. And there’s even a gas fireplace. If I didn’t know where I was and what this place was used for, I might’ve thought I was in a high-end hotel.
The last three nights without sleep are starting to catch up with me. I’m suddenly feeling exhausted. I kick off my shoes and stretch out on the bed. It’s cozy. Out of habit, I look around for a television remote, but then I remember this is definitely not a hotel room, and this room serves a single purpose. No use for distractions in this room.
My eyelids feel weighted and it’s hard to keep them open. I’m so tired all of a sudden. I’m crashing after the stress and adrenaline of the past few hours. I decide to shut my eyes for just a minute, not all that worried that I’ll fall asleep. I’ve never been the kind of person to sleep soundly in strange places. I’m sure as soon as the door opens, I’ll be wide awake. I’m far too nervous to sleep.
My eyes flutter open. Everything is blurry and at first, I feel a bit confused about where I am. So much for not falling asleep.
There’s a soft glow in the room. That’s when I realize the candles that weren’t lit when I first got to the room are lit now. Someone else has been here.
I’m lying on my side, blinking confusedly at the lit candles when someone touches my shoulder. The hands on my shoulder kneed into my muscles and I startle into focus. I jump away from the man’s grip and put the length of the bed between us.
“What are you doing?” I say to him, my heart slamming against my chest from the sudden fright.
His hands are up in surrender. A warm smile plays across his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to gently wake you up. I guess that didn’t work.”
“You could’ve just said my name a few times.”
That’s when I realize what I’m here for my … what do I call it? A date? An insemination? I cringe at the last one.
His eyebrows raise and he grins. Oh, right. He doesn’t know my name. I don’t know his name either. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh. “I must have dozed off and forgotten where I was.”
“It’s all right,” he says and settles onto the bed.
I stretch my neck. I fell asleep so quickly, the odd angle I’ve been in has left my neck stiff.
“How has your day been so far?” he asks.
“It was fine, thank you.”
I feel awkward. Not sure what to do with my hands, so I fix my hair, then stuff them in my pockets.
“You seem tense.”
I really look at him for the first time since I woke up. Now that my nerves are starting to settle, I notice different details about him. I was worried that I wouldn’t be attracted to him, but that’s definitely not going to be a problem once I start to pay attention. He has thick dark hair, a straight Romanesque nose, a strong jaw and perfect white teeth. He checks all the boxes of your typical handsome man. But there’s nothing at all typical about the way he looks. There’s something very comforting about his smile, a warmth that immediately makes me relax. It’s slightly crooked, and there’s a scar on his bottom lip that stretches down onto his chin. His eyes are a soft shade of green and there are creases around the skin of his eyes that make me think he smiles and laughs a lot. I don’t know what it is about him, but just his presence puts me at ease.
“Something wrong with your neck?” he asks as I continue to try and stretch out the clinched muscle.
“I fell asleep at a weird angle.”
“May I?” he says and leans toward me. I swallow hard. I know he is going to touch me. That’s what I’m here for, but I guess I didn’t realize just how nervous I would be about it. Not only nervous, but now that I’m in the quiet room with him, in the candlelight, I’m excited. He’s so beautiful it practically takes my breath away.
I nod and he moves across the bed. When his hands grip my shoulders again, I take in a deep breath and tense even more.
He lets out a low chuckle. “Relax.”
As he starts to really dig into the muscle, I let out an involuntary moan. It feels incredible. My muscles turn to putty under his capable hands. He moves even closer to me until I feel his warmth and smell the spicy scent of his cologne. His hands are so strong. I start to imagine what it would feel like with his fingers rubbing other places. My panties are wet in seconds at the thought. When his lips touch my neck, I jump. He chuckles again and brings his mouth to my ear. “Shhh…relax. I’m not going to bite,” he whispers. With his warm breath on my neck, I practically melt into him. It’s all happening so fast. It feels so … different. I want to say wrong because this isn’t how things normally go, but wrong is not the right word. Nothing about him touching me feels wrong. In fact, it’s beginning to feel very, very right.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and I wonder if he’s instructed to say things like that or if he actually means it. I try not to dwell on it. If he’s actually attracted to me, I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
As he rubs my shoulders, I put my hand on top of his and start to caress his fingers to let him know I’m ready for more. He takes my hand and kisses the top of it like a true gentleman. I find it endearing and old fashioned. And a little funny considering what we’re about to do. I bet they didn’t have baby-making clubs back in the day. I guess they didn’t really have too many single mothers then either. Times have changed.
He reaches around to unbutton my shirt. Goosebumps scatter across my body, my heart races, and my breathing changes when his fingertips touch my bare skin. Oh shit, I can’t believe this is happening.
Once my shirt is off, he moves his hands down my arms. He’s so gentle with me, though I know with the size of those hands, he could bend me to his will with little effort. I’m happy with the gentle touching, but when I think about him having his way with me, taking charge, I get turned on.
I turn to face him, and when I do, his eyes search my face, and then land on my breasts. I wore a black lacy bra and panties. I guess it was the right choice because he lets out a deep
sound of approval. He touches the sides of my face and moves toward me until our lips touch. It’s the slightest kiss, but it sends a ripple of excitement through me. I pull back a bit, slightly confused.
“Are we allowed to kiss?” I ask him, feeling self-conscious, almost like a child on her first day at school. He laughs again and increases the pressure of his hand on the side of my face.
“There’s no way someone could stop me from kissing a woman like you.” His lips are on me again, and his tongue, as it glides gently against mine, tastes faintly of lemon and something minty. His taste and scent are like a drug for me, and I find myself latching onto him, my hands curled in his thick hair, unable to get enough.
The man knows how to kiss. He’s barely touching me with his fingertips while he’s doing it, but I can feel his touch everywhere. I could spend every waking moment of my life just kissing him, but eventually we have to come up for air.
I stare at his face, and I can’t help but think of how beautiful our child will be. Will he or she have this stranger’s deep-set eyes or his perfect nose? Will they have his olive complexion instead of my pale one? It’s thrilling to think of the possibilities. I couldn’t have chosen a better man for myself. Everything about him does it for me.
He reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra. I slide it off my shoulders and toss it to the side.
His breath hisses through his teeth when he sees me braless. “You aren’t anything like I was expecting,” he says.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know, honestly. I just … you don’t seem like someone who needs a baby-making club to have a child.” There’s a pause. “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to assume, or be offensive.”
I laugh. “No, it’s fine. I’ve never met anyone I’ve felt comfortable having a child with, so I figured this is my best option.”
