by Beth Martin
“Go ahead,” she said. She glanced over the man who had approached her. He was tall and wore a tight shirt which showed off his fit physique. With black hair, tan skin, and almond-shaped eyes, he was pretty enough to be an underwear model.
Once he also had a drink in hand, he said, “Now that you’re not drinking alone, why don’t you tell me about your day.”
Irene sighed. It would take more effort to make the friendly stranger go away than to engage in a little bit of polite conversation. “I had a fight with my wife,” she confessed.
“Wife? Oh, that’s rough,” he said. “Let me guess. Finances?”
“No.”
He leaned back and scratched his chin. “Not enough nooky?”
Irene chuckled. “No. Apparently I spend too much time at work.” Irene looked at her companion while taking a long drink.
“Then why are you here instead of at home?” he asked.
“Home is in Seattle. I’m here on a business trip.”
“Oh. I’m going to have to side with your wife on that one then.” He gave her a friendly smile.
Irene decided it was safe to open up to this strange man she randomly met at the bar, since there was almost no chance she would run into him again. “The fight really wasn’t about work. Well, it was, but that’s not the underlying issue.”
“What is the underlying issue?” he asked, turning toward her and leaning in to give her his full attention.
“She wants a baby.”
“Oh,” he said, drawing out the syllable like her response explained everything in the universe. “And you don’t.”
“I do,” Irene insisted. “I guess. If it were straightforward, then it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’re having trouble finding a baby daddy?” he asked.
She smiled at his warm tone. “Pretty much. We did have one man offer, but only if we played along with his threesome fantasy.”
“Ouch.”
Irene finished her beer, then asked the bartender for another.
Her companion did a little drum roll on the bar with his hands. “Well, hey, if you’d like, I can help you out with your situation.” Irene raised her brows. Surely this stranger wasn’t offering to help in such an intimate way. “Not me personally, but I’m part of an organization that’s in a position to assist you and your wife. They’re actually based in Seattle. They could find a match for you, someone who would make a good sperm donor. What do you think?”
“That… that would be great,” she said, surprised by her own sincerity.
“Here, I’ll give you my contact information. Discuss it with your wife, and if you two are ready to get serious about having a child, give me a call.” He held out his device. Irene pulled out her own and gently tapped it to his, transferring his contact information.
He pulled some cash from his pocket and set it on the bar to pay for his drink.
Irene held her hand up. “I’ve got it.” He nodded his head and tucked the money back in his pocket.
“Thanks for the drink. I’ll be expecting your call,” he said as he walked out of the restaurant.
Irene realized that she hadn’t even gotten his name. She looked down at her device which still displayed his information. Jared Long.
seven
Annette couldn’t sleep. It was 3:04 am and her c-section was scheduled for later that day. She hadn’t gotten much rest, and didn’t think she’d be able to get any more sleep before she’d have to leave at six. Dr. Trimble recommended walking as much as possible to help her baby get in position for birth, so she got out of bed and started pacing around her bedroom. After less than a minute, her pelvis ached, and she had to sit back down.
Although she wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight, she told herself she would have the chance sleep in the hospital. No she wouldn’t; she’d have her baby to take care of. But that was what nurses were for. Did she really want nurses taking care of her child the first few days of her life? Annette wanted to be the one to change her daughter’s first diaper and give baby her first bath. She shook her head, trying to stop the racing thoughts.
Grabbing her device from the bedside table, she said, “Call Irene.”
The line barely rang before Irene answered, “Good morning! You ready for the big event?”
“Yes, I can’t sleep. How are you up already?”
“Jamie couldn’t sleep either. She’s pretty excited for you. We’re at the Early Bird right now. Do you want us to come over?”
Annette would give anything for a cup of decaf and some of Early Bird’s famous coffee cake. She wasn’t allowed to eat for twelve hours before her c-section, so the next bite of food she’d get would be after her daughter was born. “Yes, come on over,” she said.
A half hour later, Irene and Jamie were at her door. Annette immediately regretted invited them. Jamie was so excited and had even packed a ‘baby bag’ complete with embarrassing items like extra-large panty protectors, hemorrhoid cream, and umbilical bandaids. Clearly, Jamie had done more research into the act of birthing and infant care than even Annette had.
At the very least, the next few hours flew by, and before she knew it, the three women were arriving together at the hospital. From then on, it was a flurry of activity as the nurses got Annette prepped for delivery.
“Did you call Ray?” Annette asked as the anesthesiologist made sure the spinal block was effective, poking her ribs and stomach, checking what she could feel.
Irene peered down from the side of the bed. She wore scrubs and a ridiculous hair net over her mass of curls. “I left him three messages.”
“Why hasn’t he called back?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to call again?” Suddenly Irene disappeared from view. “I’ll go try to reach him.”
“No, come back,” Annette said. She tried to reach out to where Irene had disappeared from, but her arm was strapped down to the bed.
“Hey, Ray. Annette’s at the hospital having her baby. You need to come over, like, right now.” As she talked, Irene’s voice grew more and more frantic. Was something wrong? Annette thought a scheduled c-section was pretty routine, but if Irene was worried, perhaps she should be worried as well.
Irene leaned back into view. “I left him another message. I don’t know what else to do.” Her face look worried and she was starting to sweat.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” one of the nurses asked.
Annette tried to look around and find the nurse who spoke. “I’m fine.” All she could see was Irene who seemed to be teetering back and forth.
The nurse came up and put his hands on Irene’s shoulders. “Maybe you should sit down.” He led her to the side of the room and back out of view.
“All right, let’s get started,” Dr. Trimble said.
Before Annette could protest and ask what had happened to Irene, Jamie was by her side.
Jamie grasped Annette’s hand. “Ray will be here soon, but I’m going to keep you company until then.”
“Where’s Irene?”
“You can’t see her, but she’s right behind you. She isn’t feeling well and needs to sit. Lucky you, you get to lay down.” Jamie smiled and gave her hand a small squeeze. “Irene said you had your nursery painted gray. It sounds beautiful. Tell me what inspired you to choose that color.”
Annette recounted her time searching images of tastefully decorated nurseries while she felt immense pressure below as Dr. Trimble worked on getting the baby out. Jamie kept asking questions about preparations she made for her daughter, a soothing conversation which helped Annette feel both calm and ready for bringing a baby home.
After what felt like forever, she finally heard her baby cry. “Congratulations, Annette. You have a healthy baby girl.” A moment later, the nurse brought the baby over and handed her to Jamie. Jamie immediately bent down so that Annette’s baby was level with her face.
“You did it,” Jamie said.
Annette was so overwhelmed. She breathed in, taking i
n the smell of this tiny little person. She couldn’t think of anything profound to say to mark the occasion. “Hi, baby.”
Jamie smiled at the flailing infant. “She’s beautiful.”
“Let’s get her cleaned off and do a quick check of her vitals.” The nurse held out his arms and took the baby from Jamie and placed her in the waiting bassinet. “What are you going to call her?” he asked.
“Ophelia,” Annette said. “Her name is Ophelia.”
··OOO··
“I can’t believe you’re going to work,” Jamie scolded. She was still laying in their bed as Irene pulled a fresh blouse and slacks from the closet and got dressed.
“I’m not going in for a full day…”
“You were working out of town for half the week. It’s Sunday. Spend the morning with me. Get back in bed.”
“A red flag came up when they ran the DNA for Annette’s baby,” Irene said.
“What about our baby? Isn’t that more important than work?”
Irene finished buttoning her blouse and sat down next to her wife on the bed. “You’re right,” she said. “It is. I haven’t forgotten.”
“But you haven’t done anything about it.”
Irene grasped Jamie’s hand. “I actually met someone in LA. He’s part of an organization that could help us find a donor.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jamie asked, pulling herself up to her knees.
“We were so busy with Annette yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
Jamie leapt onto her wife, hugging her closely. “I was starting to lose faith. Thank you.”
“I still need to go into the office for a couple hours, and when I’m done, we’ll have a nice lunch and call him together, okay.”
Jamie nodded in agreement before curling back up in bed.
··OOO··
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Irene said as she read over the paper her boss had given her. Her boss, Victory, had been a social worker most of his life. His dark complexion had lightened with age and his once-full head of black hair was now thin and white. He was well past retirement age and had seen it all. Everything except for this.
When each baby was born, their DNA was added to a global registry known as the Genome Database. Having everyone’s genetics on file proved useful in quite a few ways including predicting disease, identifying uncooperative individuals, and even solving crime. Once a baby’s DNA was added, their lineage was identified. This was partially to help enforce progeny laws, but also to give parents an entire snapshot of their child’s heredity and identify possible future medical concerns.
Irene’s own DNA had betrayed her, an anomaly getting flagged by the Genome Database when she was born. Irene had known even as a small child that she had a predisposition for cancer. Even though it was scary learning she would probably get sick, the knowledge had kept her vigilant about her health, and her doctor had caught the first signs of a tumor early. She made a full recovery, and could partially thank the Genome Database for making her aware.
“This can’t be right,” she said.
“That’s why I had it run again. And then a third time,” Victory said. He pointed at the parentage results for Annette’s new baby girl, Ophelia. “Carmen Potts is definitely the father.”
Although she didn’t know a lot about the art world, Irene had heard of Carmen Potts. He was Jamie’s biggest role model and a frequent inspiration in her art. He was both prolific and well-respected. His sculptures were animated, but looked like everyday objects at first glance. Then, the motion sensor would trip and they’d open up and turn into a fantastical creation. His most famous work was a toaster which transformed into a giant three-foot-tall grasshopper with wings that would twitch.
He died six years ago at the age of fifty-one from an overdose. He had no surviving family or close friends. His massive estate had been left to charity. There was no way he could be the father.
“Maybe he had a twin?” Irene suggested. She knew the suggestion was absurd.
Victory shook his head. “Nope. How did your friend get pregnant?”
“She met a man at a club. They had a one night stand.”
“She got knocked up by a one time encounter?”
Irene slipped the paper into Annette’s file. She was glad Victory had asked her to come in. She wanted to give the news to her friend personally. “Yes,” she said. “She removed her own implant, and I guess the guy was lax about protection. To be honest, she was on the hunt and looking to get pregnant.”
“I guess that would do it,” he said. “But we have a serious problem if people are posthumously having children.”
“How does a dead man come back as a sexy club-goer and get a woman pregnant?” she asked, mostly to herself.
“You wouldn’t need the whole dead man…” Victor began.
“Just his sperm. Do you really think a healthy young man would slip another man’s sperm in during a one night encounter?”
“It’s the only explanation,” he said.
··OOO··
After sharing a nice lunch, Irene and Jamie went to the café next door and got some lattés to sip on while they called the man Irene had met in LA. The café was much quieter than the restaurant they just dined at, and they wanted to be able to hear the call without a problem.
“You ready?” Irene asked as she placed her device on the small table between them.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jamie said, her tight grip on her mug turning her knuckles white.
“Call Jared Long,” she said. They waited as the line connected.
“Hello? This is Jared,” he said.
“Hi, this is, uh,” Irene realized she had never given him her name and couldn’t remember what the restaurant where they met was called. “This is Irene Crow. We met when I was in Los Angeles for business.”
“Of course, I remember,” he said. Irene blew a sigh of relief. “Did you get a chance to talk with your wife?”
“Yes, and she’s here with me.”
“Hi, I’m Jamie.”
“Let me tell you two a little about the organization I’m part of,” he said. “It’s called Advancement of Quality DNA, or AQD for short. Basically, they’re looking to pair people with superior genetics to improve the quality of the human gene pool.”
“Do I have to take a test or something to show that I have superior genetics?” Jamie asked.
Jared laughed, “No, not at all. But they will pair you with a donor who does have a lot of positive qualities that he can pass down so that you’ll have the healthiest baby possible.”
Jamie smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She was totally sold.
“Hold on,” Irene said, trying to be a voice of reason even though she was vibrating with excitement. “If AQD is pairing together people with good DNA, doesn’t that mean people with bad DNA will pair together making even less healthy children?”
“That’s what I thought when I first joined,” Jared said. “Like, there should be some sort of gene pool equilibrium. But Aiden Stone, our president, actually worked it all out mathematically using graph theory or something, stuff I can’t even begin to pretend I understand, to find a way to improve the overall quality of the human genome.”
“I’m not looking to improve humanity,” Jamie confessed. “I just want one baby of my own.”
“And that’s exactly how AQD works: one baby at a time.”
Jamie couldn’t keep still, she was so excited. “How do we get started?” she asked.
“There’s just a simple questionnaire you need to fill out so you can get matched to a proper donor.”
“Great, send it over,” Irene said.
“Oh, I should have given you the paperwork when you were still here in LA. I’m kind of like an ambassador for the area. But you two are in Seattle, right? You can go to one of the AQD meetings and pick up the papers there.”
Irene scratched her head. “Can’t you just send it electronically?”
“I wish I could, but for a few reasons, AQD stays off the grid. None of their literature or correspondence can be on the network. In fact, I’d recommend you don’t even do a search on them.”
Irene’s hopes instantly deflated. She tapped the mute option on the screen of her device and turned to Jamie. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. If they can’t even send a questionnaire over the network, they’re probably doing something illegal.”
“Irene, please,” Jamie pleaded. “This is our chance. Let’s at least go to a meeting, and then if it really is that sketchy, we won’t do it.”
“Okay,” Irene said reluctantly. She turned the mic back on for her device.
“Well, ladies, what do you say?”
“Let’s go to the meeting,” Jamie said.
After warning them both not to put anything about AQD in their devices, including storing meetings in their calendar, Irene wrote down all the details for the next meeting on a napkin.
After disconnecting the call, Jamie leapt up and hugged Irene tightly while saying in a sing song voice, “We’re having a baby.”
Irene hugged her back, but with less enthusiasm. “Let’s just check out the meeting first.”
eight
Ophelia had spent all of her time at the hospital either eating or sleeping. But now that she was home, all she did was cry. Annette was ready to burst into tears herself. Ophelia had already been fussing in her crib for a while, and would break into full-out wailing soon.
She waited for the NutriBottle to finish processing the milk she pumped so Ophelia would have a perfectly fresh and nutritionally balanced meal to calm her down. The tiny baby wanted to eat every hour during the day, and Annette was having a hard time keeping up.
A sharp knock came from the door. The sound startled Ophelia who started shrieking. Annette picked her up, shushing her before checking the door. Irene was waiting just outside with a dark-haired man. She opened the door and let them in.
“Let me get Ophelia her bottle real fast,” she said as Irene and her companion came into the apartment. There were clothes and baby blankets all over the furniture and old plates and mugs cluttering the coffee table. “Sorry about the mess. The cleaner doesn’t come until Friday.”
