by Beth Martin
“How did you meet Dr. Tanaka?”
“I told my doctor I wanted to be castrated, and he referred me to Pat.” Elijah began coughing, and Jonas gave him a wide smile. “Not something you’d do yourself, young man?”
“No judgements,” Elijah said, raising his hands up.
“It is a bit drastic,” Florida said. “Did your doctor recommend the procedure?”
“No,” Jonas said, shaking his head. “It was completely elective. Women are vultures. I can’t tell you how many ladies on the hunt have tried to have a baby off of me to take claim of my wealth.”
“We don’t need to know your reasons for the procedure,” Irene said. “Tell us about your interactions with Dr. Tanaka.”
“Well, when my regular doctor finally believed I was serious about removing the brothers, he introduced me to Dr. Tanaka. Pat had a good bedside manner. There were no complications. Was there anything in particular you were looking for?”
“Was any part of the procedure remarkable, or strike you as odd?” Irene asked.
“It went just as Pat described. I was only under for half an hour. I stayed in an aftercare facility for a few days before returning home. That was it.”
“Do you have a personal relationship with Dr. Tanaka?” she asked.
“A relationship was necessary before allowing the man to perform such a delicate procedure on me. We’ve remained friends.”
Florida uncrossed her legs and stood up. “Mr. Cooper, I need to conduct a physical exam.”
He smiled and stood as well. “Of course. I’m sure you want to see that they’re really gone.”
Before Florida could say anything more, Jonas unbuttoned his linen slacks and pulled them down. Elijah stared in disbelief while Irene looked away. Florida fished an exam glove out of her bag and slipped it on. She approached Jonas and examined him. “Here’s the incision. Looks like just a simple orchiectomy. You said you were put under for the procedure?”
“I was,” Jonas confirmed.
“You didn’t get implants to achieve a typical aesthetic?” Florida asked.
“Why bother? The way they look now, I have proof of how committed I am to never having a child.”
“That’s it,” Florida said, snapping her glove off. Only after hearing the telltale zip of Jonas’s pants did Irene look back up. Elijah, who had seen everything, looked sickly pale.
Irene thanked Jonas for his time and they left his house.
“Who the hell was that guy?” Elijah asked as they drove to interview the next patient.
Florida scoffed. “You didn’t read the brief.”
“I did,” he said.
Irene turned back to talk to Elijah. “Liam Cooper founded Cooper Electric. Although he chose his business partner, Sean Wade, to take over the company, he left his shares to his son, Jonas Cooper.”
“His weird, eccentric son,” Florida added.
“So what happens to his piles of money when he dies?” he asked.
“That’s really none of our business,” Irene said.
“Sean Wade has a granddaughter whom Jonas fancies. Mr. Cooper set up his whole estate as a trust with her listed as a beneficiary,” Florida said.
“Wow,” Elijah said, sitting back. “How did you know that?”
Florida flipped down the sun visor and checked her lipstick. “I read Weekly,” she said. “You know, a simple orchiectomy is usually done with only a local anesthetic. Someone doing the procedure electively, especially a healthy man like Jonas Cooper, shouldn’t need to be put under general.”
“Could there be a reason to do general anesthesia instead?” Irene asked.
Florida flipped the sun visor back up and glanced at Irene. “Not a medical one.”
nine
“How’s my little niece doing?” Ray asked as he raised the baby into the air.
“Careful! You need to support her head,” Annette said, hovering around her daughter as Ray held her.
Ray carefully cradled Ophelia. Her eyes locked onto his. There was no doubt she had taken to her uncle. “I’m just trying to get some practice before my own little bundle of joy arrives.”
“How is Clara?” Annette asked.
“Miserable. She’s ready to be a mom and be done with pregnancy.” She smiled, part of her glad that her own misery was over, but mostly she was happy that Clara wasn’t having an easier time of it.
“This is going to be your reality soon,” she said, motioning at her cluttered apartment filled with baby paraphernalia.
“We’re already there,” he said with a laugh. “Clara has bought every silly baby item we might never need. Our place is filled. Like, she bought a reusable liner for the clothes washer.”
“I hear those are useful,” she said. Ray looked up at her to catch Annette’s joking wink. “Isn’t she nesting yet and getting everything tidy?”
“I wish,” he said, rocking Ophelia back and forth as she waved around her little fists. “She’s currently in the accumulation phase.”
He continued rocking the baby as Annette pulled a frozen meal from the fridge and heated it in the micro cooker.
“Hey,” Ray said. “I wanted to apologize for not making it to Ophelia’s birth.”
“It’s okay,” she said. The words came quickly out of her mouth, even though that really wasn’t how she felt. “Clara needed you. Whatever. She’s your family now.”
Ray sighed. “I convinced her to change the date of that stupid baby shower. Figures she’d find some other way make me miss your big day.”
“Has she had any more contractions?” Annette asked recalling Clara’s early labor scare that kept Ray from attending Ophelia’s birth.
“Actually, yes, she’s has quite a few. Her doctor had her doing daily stress tests on the baby. She and baby are fine. The doctor’s just being careful.”
Annette nodded. She only cared so much because this was her brother’s baby too. “Speaking of doctors, what time does her appointment start?”
He checked the clock on the wall. “Soon. I should head out.” He carefully passed Ophelia back to her mother and left.
··OOO··
Jamie had spent so much time filling out and worrying over the sheets of paper, that now they were crumpled and noticeably worn. That’s what you get for using paper forms.
“I still think we should have filled out a membership form for you,” she said.
“No,” Irene said, shaking her head. “The donor form states that the donor needs to be a member, but makes no mention of the donor’s spouse.”
“It just feels weird that you don’t want to fill one out. You’re going to be a mother to this baby too.”
Irene frowned. She wasn't a very trusting person. Jamie knew that. The membership form for AQD required all sorts of personal information, from occupation and salary, to high school GPA and list of personal references. Each time a question made her raise her eyebrows, she reminded herself that the adoption request form the Social Department required was much worse.
There wasn’t a full meeting this week, so no chairs or lectern were set up in the school gym where they had met last week. Instead, they found an almost entirely empty room, save for a representative for AQD sitting at a single folding table.
“Hello,” Jamie said, walking confidently into the room. The tall man looked up from where he sat at the table.
“May I help you?” he asked in an uninviting tone.
“I’m interested in being a female donor with AQD. I filled out a membership form,” Jamie said. He held out his hand, and she gave him both the membership form and the one for finding a sperm donor.
He read briefly over the papers. “Female donors are hard to come by. Thank you for signing up. Have you filled out the parent profile?”
“I’m sorry,” Irene interjected. “What’s the parent profile? I thought the donor and membership forms were all that was needed.”
“Well, women are the ones who need to carry the child, and many want to
raise the child themselves as well. However, nurturing is a major tenant at AQD so donors who want custody of their offspring must complete the parent profile and enroll in the six month parenting course.”
“Wait, there’s a chance I wouldn’t get to raise my baby?” Jamie asked.
“A lot of female donors do raise their offspring, and many co-parent with their male donors. You would just have to fill out the profile, complete the course, and get screened to make sure you would provide an ideal environment with appropriate atmosphere and stimulation. Most women are able to complete all three steps while they’re on the waitlist.”
“How long is the wait list?” Jamie asked.
“It usually takes about two years to get matched. Sometimes longer.”
Irene gave Jamie a dubious look, but Jamie was determined. “What’s the first step?”
“Fill out the yellow form.” He flipped open his bag which sat on the floor next to the table and pulled out a thick packet of yellow paper. He handed it to Jamie, adding, “Any additional adults in the household also need to fill one out.”
“We’ll need a second one, then,” she said. Irene placed her hand on her wife’s arm, but didn’t stop her. This packet did look thicker than the forms for adoption.
“Sorry, I’ve only got the one copy. Come back next week and I’ll bring another.”
“I’ll just make a copy at home,” Jamie said.
“No, don’t do that,” he said sharply. “Once you scan the paper it’s in the system. The government wants to shut down the work we’re doing here. We have all these safeguards in place, including only hard copy information, for a reason.”
Jamie nodded, hugging the packet of paper to her chest.
“Let’s go,” Irene said. As they walked to the car, she added, “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jamie said. “And no matter how you feel about it, this may be the only way we can have a baby.”
Irene shook her head. She hoped there would still be another way.
··OOO··
The doorbell rang again. “Jamie, door,” Irene shouted, absorbed in the cheesy horror movie playing on their living room screen. The doorbell rang a third time. Irene sighed as she got up from the couch and grabbed the bowl of candy before opening the door.
“Trick or treat!” chimed a couple of children. They both wore robot kitten costumes, a character from a popular children’s show.
“What wonderful costumes,” Irene said as she handed each child a piece of candy.
“Thank you,” both children said before running ahead to the next apartment door.
“Happy Halloween,” their father said, trailing behind them in the hallway.
Irene smiled at him before closing the door.
Before settling back into the sofa, she realized she hadn’t heard a peep from Jamie all night. Jamie loved handing out candy and seeing all the kids in their costumes. Irene walked around their apartment looking for her.
Jamie sat at the edge of the bed facing away from the door with the yellow packet, now slightly crumpled, next to her. Irene came around the bed and saw that her face was wet with tears.
“Bunny, what’s wrong?” Irene asked.
Jamie sniffled loudly and wiped off her face with her hand. “We’re never getting a baby.”
Irene stroked her hair and said, “That’s not true.”
“We keep hitting dead end after dead end.”
Irene glanced at the discarded yellow packet. She knew as soon as she saw the thick packet that AQD wouldn’t work out. “This is just one setback, bunny. We don’t need a secret organization with tons of rules. All we need is one man. We just haven’t found him yet.”
Jamie let out a short laugh. “Straight women spend their entire lives looking for Mr. Right. I’m sick of waiting. I want a baby now.”
“I know you do. I want a baby too.” Irene kissed her wife and continued stroking her hair.
Jamie pushed her away. “No you don’t!” she yelled. “You never wanted a baby. Otherwise you would have tried harder.”
Irene frowned. “I am trying. As hard as I can. It’s not that easy.”
“I should just do what your friend did. She had the right idea.”
“No,” Irene said firmly. She grasped her wife’s shoulders and tried to get Jamie to look her in the eye. “Jamie, no. You’re not going around sleeping with strange men just to get pregnant.”
“She got Carmen Pott’s baby,” Jamie said with a pout.
Irene sighed and sat down next to her. “Annette could get into a lot of trouble for what she did. The only reason she hasn’t been arrested for using frozen sperm is because I still believe her story. It’s not worth the risk.”
Jamie took the yellow packet and threw it at the floor where it landed with a thud. “I can’t find a donor either. None of my art friends want to help. I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”
Irene looped an arm around her wife and gave her a tight hug before letting go. They sat in silence for a while before Irene said, “Why don’t you join me in the living room? We can watch whatever you want on the screen and we’ll hand out candy together.”
“The Witch who Stole Halloween,” Jamie said.
“Seriously?” Irene asked. “Again?”
“It’s tradition,” Jamie said as she stood up. “And you said whatever I want.”
“Fine,” Irene agreed, following her to the living room. “But if you start singing along, I’ll sing louder.” Irene didn’t know a thing about music, but she had the words to Jamie’s favorite movie memorized.
“Deal,” Jamie said.
··OOO··
Jamie took care of all the domestic chores, so whenever Irene came over, Annette knew she couldn’t expect much help around the apartment. She did, however, spring for some of the best take-out the city had to offer. For lunch today, she brought sushi rolls from Fishy Dish, complete with their in-house soy sauce.
“God, I missed this stuff while I was pregnant,” Annette said before plopping another roll in her mouth.
“You know the FDA requires all raw fish be treated with UV, so there’s no concern of contracting a parasite,” Irene said.
“Sure, but UV doesn’t remove mercury.”
“You could have eaten farm-raised fish…”
Annette held up her hand. “Not the same. And Fishy Dish doesn’t serve farm-raised.” She ate another bite of dragon roll before asking, “How is the search for a baby daddy going?”
Irene set her paper plate down. “Ugh.”
“Even harder when the guy doesn’t get sex out of it?” Annette said, smiling and giving Irene a little nudge.
“You’ve already gone through all this trouble to conceive. I’m sure you’ve seen it all,” Irene said.
“Hey, I got mine in the end,” Annette said, motioning to Ophelia who slept peacefully in her crib as it swayed back and forth.
“We were looking into this organization that was going to match us with a donor who has ‘superior’ sperm…”
Annette let out a snort of laughter. “Sorry, go on.”
“Everything looked great until they told us that we’d have to go through all of these steps before they’d actually let us raise the baby, and the wait to get matched takes years.”
“Years? You’re shitting me.”
“No joke,” Irene said.
“What’s the name of the organization? I want to look them up.”
Irene pulled her device out of her pocket and handed it to Annette. Annette’s was in the crib with Ophelia monitoring her breathing and playing a lullaby. “AQD. Associations of Quality DNA.”
Annette spoke into the device. “Look up AQD.” The display faded to black. “Uh oh.”
“What?”
“There is no such thing as AQD.” The computerized voice said before the device emitted a loud, high-pitched tone.
They both covered their ears as Ophelia started shrieking from her c
rib.
“Make it stop!” Annette yelled over the tone. She handed the device back to Irene and picked up her daughter, taking her to the back of her apartment.
She could hear Irene shout, “Volume, mute,” at the device a few times, and then heard some banging noises. When the sound finally stopped, Ophelia started to calm down. She was due for a bottle, so Annette went back to the kitchen to grab one from the fridge. She was greeted by the smell of smoke.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Irene said. “I guess AQD tries to stay off the grid. Jarred warned me not to search for it, but I didn’t realize it would destroy my device.”
“It’s not working now?” Annette asked as she placed a new bottle in the warmer. Ophelia fussed and grabbed at Annette’s shirt. She wanted to eat now that she was awake.
“It started sparking and smoking before the tone stopped,” Irene said, pointing at the still-smoking electronic which now sat in the sink.
“You should go to the Cherry store. See if they can fix it.”
Irene poked her device and quickly pulled her hand away. It was too hot to touch. “I’ll give it a try, but I think it’s a goner.”
Wrapping her dead device in a kitchen towel, Irene wished them well and left. Annette settled down on the sofa with Ophelia and her warm bottle. After what happened to Irene’s device, she was dying to know more about this cult-like organization.
··OOO··
Irene and her small task force held a meeting in the conference room. Victory had brought in donuts for the entire department, and Elijah couldn’t seem to keep out of them. His fingers were covered with glaze as he consumed his third donut. Florida stared at him in open disgust.
“What?” he said. “They’re free.”
Irene sat down at the head of the long table. “Can we get back on task?”
Angel sat on the tabletop at the corner, reading over her shoulder. “So what do we have so far?”
“A lot of men missing their balls,” Elijah answered, stuffing the last half of the donut into his mouth and licking his fingers.
“None of them had complicated procedures, yet were all put under,” Florida added.
“But, why were they put under?” Irene asked. They had been pondering this question all week.
