by Julie Paul
“Stavros! I’m talking to you!”
“What?” He shifted his head so one ear was more exposed.
“God, you’re out of it.”
Stavros sat up and looked at Alexa. “I was chillin’, okay?”
“Did you get Dad the present?”
“Damn.” He’d completely spaced his errand after the bomb Diana and Juna had dropped. Their father’s birthday was in two days and he and Alexa were buying him an iPod. “Sorry, Lex. I’ll get it first thing tomorrow.”
She sighed and got up from the couch. “It’s your last chance,” she said. “We need to have time to load it.”
“I’ll do it.” He exited the page he’d been looking at seconds before she got close enough to read it.
“Whatcha hiding?” she asked him. “Stealing essays?”
“Just research,” he said.
Alexa yawned. “Just wait ’til you’re in college, little brother. The fun never ends.” She was two years ahead of him, studying to be an accountant. She still lived at home, and led a quiet, boring life. Stavros had thought that she might have gone the other way after their mother died—turned wild with the sadness, and the freedom—but here she was, living like a nun.
“Hey, how tall was Mom?” he asked her.
She stared at him. “Why?”
“Oh, just a project on genes. Dominant traits, you know, eye colour, Punnett squares. I want to know if height kind of evens out, more often, or if kids get one or the other parent’s height.”
“What do you think? Look at us.”
“Yeah, I guess we did get Dad’s side of things.”
“No shit,” Alexa said. “Thanks, Dad.” She was nearly six feet tall herself, and always talked about how she hated it. “Mom was only like, five foot two.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Diana was at least three inches shorter than that. It would be like pairing a Doberman with a Chihuahua.
“You want to order pizza for dinner?”
Stavros nodded. “Awesome. I’m starving.”
“I thought you went out for lunch with Juna.”
He laughed. “To Juna’s house.”
“So?”
“You don’t want to know.”
But he knew that she did. And he could really use someone to talk this thing out with. The trouble was, she would know about the money and then, his plan. Worse than that, she would know about him jerking off, something no sister should have to know. “Let’s just say it was a little too organic for me.”
Later that night, after the pizza and a road hockey game with a few buddies—Stavros scored three goals—Juna called.
“Can I come over?” She sounded upset.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll leave the back door open. Just come up to my room.” Alexa was in her room, watching a rerun of ER.
He had time to jump in the shower before she arrived, and was back into a clean pair of shorts when Juna pushed the door of his room open.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Besides you.” He pulled out his desk chair for her. She didn’t sit down.
“This is the night,” she said, sounding breathless.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, my mother just took her temperature, and this is it. The best time for her to meet success.”
“Are you serious?” Stavros sat down on his bed. “She asked me today, and tonight’s the best?”
Juna nodded. “She thought it was days away, but it seems she miscalculated. Now she’s scared because, well, it might mean she’s going menopausal soon.”
Stavros was confused. “How long do we have?”
“Well, about twelve hours, if we’re lucky.”
Lucky.
“I know we didn’t talk about it today, but we’re willing to give you a fair price. And I know money may not be the best motivation for you”—she opened her arms, gesturing toward the whole room, the house, his life—“but it’s something, right?”
“How much are we talking?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
He lay back on his bed, hands behind his head. Juna came and sat beside him.
“Is that enough?” she asked.
“Enough for me to jizz in a cup? Sure, it’s enough.” More than enough for India. “But I just want to know something,” he said. “If this works out, you know, if Diana gets knocked up, well, what will you tell the kid?”
“The truth, I guess,” Juna said, looking down at him. “That we did what we needed to do to make a baby. That’s what Mom did for me. She found a guy, and took the rest of it into her own hands.”
“Have you met him?”
Juna laughed. “He died just after she got the goods. Bad drugs or something.”
She didn’t seem too upset by it, but Stavros had more questions. “Will I ever meet this baby? I mean, it’s pretty weird, thinking I might have a kid out there.”
“You can meet it, sure. But you won’t have any responsibilities, after tonight. Or whenever you decide.”
They were quiet. Juna lay down beside Stavros and they both stared at the ceiling.
“It’s a good price,” he said. “For a little of my . . . sap.”
Juna laughed. “Sap. That’s a good one. We’re just going to tap your tree. It won’t hurt a bit.”
He could feel his cock stirring. “Uh, did you bring a jar?”
She found his hand and squeezed it, hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“I have an idea,” he said, and he slowly brought her hand to his waistband. She let him.
“The jar,” she said. “Shouldn’t we—”
“Get it,” he said. “We’re on the clock.”
He told himself he still wasn’t committing to anything, that he could just be lying around with a friend, relaxing. Some of his friends had casual sex with girls on a regular basis, had been given blowjobs behind the school at recess even before they were in high school. He wasn’t like his friends. He had an idea about relationships being important, and he wanted one, too, and everyone already thought Juna was his girlfriend, anyway, so this wouldn’t do any harm. And Juna was a pretty girl, nice eyes, decent legs, those hips. This was his train of thought, but the train stopped, and Juna’s hand kept going, and all that was left was that she did the job quite well, yeah, she was good, she knew how to, oh, yeah, that’s it, keep going, you got it, uh-huh, don’t, stop, so good, right now, uh, there, there, here, oh, God—
—and when he opened his eyes, there was Juna, her lips red, as if she’d been kissing him, when she hadn’t, her eyes wide, shiny, her hands screwing on the lid of the jar.
“Nice one,” she said.
Stavros laughed, suddenly embarrassed. He quickly pulled up his shorts and stood up. “Um, how’d you get here?”
“I biked.”
“Will you have time to get that home, in time?” He’d learned that viability was short-lived, that it had to stay warm, as if it were still inside him.
“I think so. But I better dash.” She wrapped the jar in a T-shirt, then a scarf, then stuffed it inside her backpack.
“Okay, then.” Stavros felt like he wasn’t breathing. “I guess that’s it.”
Juna smiled. “Would you mind calling my mother? To give her a heads-up?”
That was the last thing he wanted to do. But five grand for a hand job was a decent rate. He picked up the phone as soon as Juna closed his door.
“Diana?” he said. “It’s Stavros. Juna’s on her way. She’s, uh, got what you need.”
She was happy, and started going on about the bad timing, but he told her he had to get off the phone.
Stavros lay back on his bed. Thanks to Juna, he felt relaxed, but he was wide awake and keyed up, too. Would it be weird to date the half-sister of your kid? That idea was like thinking about black holes—it hurt his head. But he liked Juna. The other girls at school were either total OMG fountains or the sisters of death, and he wasn’t into either set or sect. He cou
ld imagine going on a Ferris wheel with Juna, or on a ferry to an island, hiking in the trees, finding a sheltered spot, spreading out their blanket—
A knock came at his half-open door and Alexa pushed it open the rest of the way. “Juna seemed to be in a hurry,” she said.
“Oh yeah, she had to get home.”
“You two are spending a lot of time together.”
“We’re friends. And she’s tutoring me, remember?”
“It was awfully quiet in here.”
“Lex, will you let it go? Don’t you have some show to watch?”
She made a face. “I was just coming to remind you about the iPod.”
“I’ll get it, okay? It’s in my daytimer.”
“You have a daytimer?”
The phone was ringing. Stavros foraged around in his covers for it. Alexa waited, staring at him, until he answered it. It was Juna. “It’s for me,” he told his sister.
She left his room, leaving the door half open. He got up and closed it.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Alexa.”
Juna was silent.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“She wants me to. You know.”
“What?” He didn’t know.
“Try it out, too.”
“You mean . . .” Stavros couldn’t say it.
“Try to get pregnant.”
“What, like right now? With the same stuff?” He wondered if that was possible. Or illegal. In either case it felt way messed up.
“In case it doesn’t work for her.”
“Whoa.” He thought of his mother’s favourite saying: two birds with one stone. Weren’t testicles called stones? Did the sperm he just donated come from one ball, or both? God, the questions!
“What do you think?” Juna asked him.
“You mean you’re thinking about it?”
“I don’t know.”
They were silent for a minute.
“I can see it happening,” she said. “It’s not that crazy.”
Stavros had another vision of them. They were hand in hand in India. They were rafting down the Ganges. Riding elephants. Eating samosas. “Come back over here,” he said. “I want to tell you something.”
His mother was supposed to go to India, but then she got sick. An ashram in the mountains, a place to take her further into what she called her practice. Stavros didn’t really know what that meant—he knew hockey practices, where you just gave it or didn’t, and he always gave it, one hundred percent, because he wanted to kick ass. What was Mom practising for? She was good enough already. Beyond good enough.
If she had gone, would she still be alive? Juna was lucky, even with a wacko for a mother. Maybe he should do it, though, help Diana through Juna, too, in honour of his mother. And his father? Well, if he ever found out, which he never would, Stavros would spin it to make it look like a good thing, another Greek in the world. That just might work.
Maybe he should take something of his mother’s to India and leave it there, like they do with ashes. Ashes would’ve been decent but she was deep and safe in the ground—a privilege to his father because on the island in Greece where he came from, bones are only allowed to stay in the earth for so many years before the family has to come and take them away to make room for the newly dead.
Maybe the yellow scarf she’d always worn over her hair when she cleaned the house. Or a bead necklace. He could break the string, scatter the colours everywhere he went.
Juna came in as quietly as she had the first time. Stavros’s father was in his wing of the house; Alexa’s door was shut. It was nearly midnight.
“Did it, um . . . was it okay?” Stavros asked.
Juna sat on the carpet. “I think so. It was still warm when I handed it to her. That’s all I did, in case you’re wondering. I mean, aside from here.”
Stavros laughed through his nose. “Yeah, um, thanks for that.”
Juna wasn’t smiling. “My mother is just so . . .”
He waited. He could fill in the blanks, but he waited.
“Persuasive,” she said.
“Persuasive?” Stavros sat down on the floor beside her. “You mean, you—” Had she taken some for herself already?
“No, I didn’t,” Juna said. “But it kind of makes sense, if you think about it. Two chances, right, to create a baby? Which is what my mother wants. I mean, it’s crazy how much she wants one.”
“But if you . . .” Stavros paused. “If you got pregnant, it would be your baby, not hers.”
“Oh, no. Not mine. I’m not ready to be a mommy. I’d just give it over to her. It happens more than you know,” she said. “A daughter pretending to be sick for a while, mono, maybe, then her mother ends up with a newborn, raising it like it’s her own.”
He sighed. “It’s all pretty messed up, if you ask me. I can’t believe this freaking day.”
“Listen,” Juna said. “If your mother asked you to do one thing for her, to help her fulfill her greatest desire, then wouldn’t you do it?”
“Yes,” he said right away. But his mother had never asked for more than his love, even as she lay dying in the sunroom. His love, and a promise that he would live a full life, do what he loved to do, and what was right. “She wanted me to go to India,” he said. “That’s why I asked you to come back over. I wanted to tell you my plan.”
“India?” she said. “When?”
“When high school’s over. Next fall, I guess.”
“Wow,” Juna said.
“That’s why I said yes to Diana.” He looked down at his hands. “The trip money. And now I want to know if you’ll come with me.”
They were both quiet. Juna picked up a sweatshirt from the floor, shook it out, and then folded it and set it on the dresser. Stavros watched her.
“A year from now,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“So I could still do it.”
“Do what?”
“Have the baby. Look, crunch the numbers. In a year I’d be good to go again.” She looked at him through her windblown bangs.
He looked back, and he couldn’t help but smile at her perked-up face, her excitement at the new-laid plans. He could feel her intentions in his groin, a ticklish gathering of forces, despite what so many other forces in him were saying. He stared at her lips until they were up too close to see.
After a minute of kissing, Juna pulled back. “Are you sure about this?”
“About what?” Stavros kept his hands on her bum, pulling her in tight against him. “Don’t I feel sure?”
“About, you know, baby-making. Jumping into things. I mean, I’m fine with it.” She brushed an eyelash from his face. “Make a wish.”
He made a vague wish for happiness. He wasn’t concentrating on wishes. “Are you sure?”
“Totally.” Juna giggled. “I’ve wanted to do this since last year.”
“Really? But you didn’t really know me back then. I was hardly even around, with the accident and everything.”
“I know, but I kept my eyes on you, when you weren’t looking.”
He kissed her again. “I’ve wanted it, too. More than the help in science.”
“So, should we do it again?” Juna asked. “What I did, earlier?” She tugged at his waistband.
“We could,” he murmured in her ear. “Or we could do it the old-fashioned way.”
“Hmm,” she said. “It’s way more successful like that. According to all the stats.”
His insides started pinwheeling. Success sounded good. But he wasn’t thinking about viability. “Okay, then.”
As he led her over to the bed, another question crossed his mind. Was he getting paid to do this? He wasn’t. That transaction was completed. Wasn’t it? This was something completely different. Wasn’t it illegal to take money for sex? He wasn’t. It was just for a product. His product. Something he could sell again, if he needed to.
Either way, baby or not, he was going to travel, and have a girl—his girl—by
his side.
“So what do I do?” Juna asked him with fake-innocent puppy eyes that made him want to devour her whole. She lay back on his bed and stretched her arms above her head.
“Just close your eyes,” he said as he pulled up her shirt, “and think of India.”
India was a nice name, if it was a girl.
Weeping Camperdown
“What makes you happy?” Andrew asked her.
Joni was blowing on her tea and looking smart in a thick orange sweater. She stopped and smiled at him. “Good question,” she said. “Do you want a list?”
Andrew flushed with embarrassment. He’d been too forthright and now she thought he was looking for easy ways to bring her happiness, a cheap way in. He smiled at her, but he could tell that his lips looked thin.
Still, she took his smile as an invitation to carry on. God, he hoped she wouldn’t say flowers or chocolate.
“Peonies,” she said. “They remind me of those fluffy dogs. Shih Tzus, maybe?”
He nodded. A bit off, but yes, he could see it. “What else?”
“My children,” she said. “Especially when they’re asleep.”
They laughed and then the sandwiches arrived and they spread their paper napkins over their laps. She ate her pickle before anything else and the crunch made him jump.
As he was into his first decent bite, she came up with another item for the list. “The moment when you turn off the kitchen lights at the end of a long day. The dishes are done, the fridge is full, everything is put away and ready for the next morning.”
