by Cher Etan
“How is this risk free?” Christine asked incredulously.
“You don’t love me, therefore I can’t break your heart. We both want the same thing; a child, so we’re united in purpose. I know you’re not just out for what you can get; you know you can trust me.”
“I can trust you?” Christine repeated somewhat skeptically.
“You know you can,” Max repeated.
Christine thought about this; if one disregarded the fact that it was a totally crazy idea it did kind of make perfect sense. After all it wasn’t like she was holding out for Mr. Right here. He’d come, broken her heart, stomped on it, and gone. So Mr. Common Purpose might do just fine. And at least she knew she wouldn’t have to go chasing him for child support or worry that he’d be a dead beat dad. Even if he turned out to have cancer, the prognosis was good so he was also unlikely to die on them. Plus gra didn’t seem to have a huge objection to this so…
“We’d need a contract or something,” she said and saw him relax into his seat. She hadn’t realized how tense he was.
“Of course,” he said.
“How are you going to explain this to your board of directors or whoever?” she asked.
“Hey, they run my company, not my life.”
“Okay then. When do you want to do this?” she said quite calmly considering she was freaking out. They were talking about having a baby together.
“I thought I could make a doctor’s appointment for later today since you’re on board. The sooner the better right?”
“I guess,” she said thoughtfully. “So we’re going the artificial insemination route?”
Max shrugged. “Unless you want-“ he began.
“No,” Christine cut in quickly. “Turkey baster is just fine. No need to blur the lines.”
“Right so…lawyers first and then doctors,” he said.
“Right.”
*****
Clarence was just not getting it. “You want to do what?” he asked for the third time like he hadn’t been accepted to Harvard Law School due to his remarkable powers of deductive reasoning and getting the point pretty quickly.
“Christine and I would like to have a baby together,” Max explained again, slowly, while Christine picked at a loose thread on her skirt.
“Where is this coming from?” Clarence asked again, darting a suspicious glance at Christine as she continued to play with her clothes and thus did not see his look.
“It's coming from the fact that I may not be able to have children after next week,” he said.
“Because of the treatment?” Clarence said showing that he did in fact have the power of hearing.
“Yes,” Max said pleased to have gotten that over with. “So we need a contract.”
“I don’t actually have one ready made lying around here. We don’t usually deal with surrogacy,” he said.
“This isn’t really that because we’ll both have rights to the child,” Max clarified seeing as Christine had looked up at the word ‘surrogacy’ with a frown.
“Yes, so of course it's more of a contractual agreement to have a child together and raise it…” Clarence’s voice trailed off helplessly.
“Exactly,” Max said nodding.
“Right, well…I’ll get my team on it and you should have copies sent to you by tomorrow morning.”
“Great. Wonderful. That’s why I pay those astronomic retainer fees of yours Clarence. You always come through.”
Clarence just nodded miserably and ushered them out of the office.
*****
The doctor’s appointment didn’t go much better. They had managed to squeeze in a fifteen minute preliminary session at the foremost fertility clinic in Boston which was just enough time for explanations and scheduling of tests. The doctor was of the opinion that they should wait for the results of Max’s tests before taking such a drastic step but Max was adamant and Christine was silently supportive so there was no more to be said. Except to find out about Christine’s reproductive history and when exactly her last period had been, whether she was on birth control and other stories. Max was instructed to leave a sperm sample as well so as to test his viability and after the extensive invasion of privacy and personal space that the test entailed, Max and Christine were ready to call it a day.
“Ice cream?” Max asked as they drove in his Bentley back to his apartment.
“Some rocky road would go down real smooth right now,” she agreed.
“Great,” he said as he swerved into a side road that led to a tiny ice cream shop that Christine herself had brought him to, to drown his loneliness, when he first moved to Boston all those years ago. She’d been ten at the time and a foremost expert on names, locations and rankings of every single ice-cream shop in the vicinity.
They got some giant cones to go, feeling slightly better about their day.
“You remember the first time you brought me here? Good times,” Max said between licks.
“Yep. Those were the good ol’ days. When did life get so complicated?” she complained.
“Adulthood. Who needs it right?”
“Yeah,” Christine agreed nostalgically. “Childhood is the best.”
“They say that children bring back your own childhood,” Max pointed out.
“Nice segueway there,” Christine replied grinning. “I’m actually feeling…a bit excited about this.”
“Yeah…me too,” Max said. “I mean if there is anyone in the world I’d share a baby with it’d be you…okay actually it’d be Martha but that’d be too weird and crazy so you’re the closest substitute.”
“You just want your kid to be related to her,” she accused.
Max shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”
Christine’s head came up and her eyes widened. “Have you told your mom about this?” she asked. “Oh my God, I forgot my child would be related to her as well.”
“Hey!” Max protested.
“What? You’re the only one allowed to talk shit about her?”
“Yes.”
“Okay fine. Fair enough. Sorry. But have you told her?”
“There’s no need for her to know. She’d just do her level best to stop it and I don’t feel like dealing with her shit on top of all the other shit in my life right now.”
Christine studied him with a frown. “You’re really scared.”
Max shrugged. “I’m terrified. My dad died of cancer you know.”
“I know…but it was liver cancer; it's non-genetic and probably something to do with all the drinking he did,” Christine said then grimaced. “Sorry.”
“No…it's fine. My parents were/are a hot mess.”
Christine shrugged. “Whose parents aren’t? My mother is on her fourth marriage to yet another dead beat and my father is God knows where. For all I know he’s dead.”
“Yeah but your grandmother’s great.”
“That is true.”
Max smiled over at her. “I’m glad we get to share her.”
“Aha. The ulterior motives come out,” Christine solemnly said.
Chapter 4
Max’s sperm tests went swimmingly and his seed was given a seal of good health. Christine was found to be healthy and fertile with a uterus that was ready to carry a child to term. All that was left was for her ovulation to take place which was serendipitously imminent.
“Let’s do this then,” Max told the doctor eagerly. “I’m told you can determine the sex by when the sperm is introduced in the vagina?”
“There are some old wives’ tales to that effect,” Dr. Mulholland stated as he prepared Christine for insemination.
“Any truth to it?” Max persisted.
“Some,” the doctor said in a preoccupied tone. “Why you have a preference?”
“I don’t know. A daughter would be nice; but stressful. I don’t know if I could stand by and watch her go on dates when she achieves adolescence. Boys are great too; we could do a lot of stuff together…I’m torn can we have one of each
?” he grinned at Christine who glared back.
“Yeah lets do that. You carry one and I’ll carry the other.”
“Alright then…lets stick with one.”
“That’s what I thought,” Christine said with a snort.
Max just smiled at her.
Once the procedure was done, Christine was required to lay on the bed with her feet up for an hour. Max and Martha waited outside for her to be done, not talking much.
“Are you scared?” Martha asked at some point.
“No,” Max replied.
“Liar.”
Max smiled, “I don’t think you’re supposed to speak that way to your boss.”
“I think that ship has sailed,” Martha commented with a side smile.
Max sighed. “Thank God. I’m not much of an employer anyway.”
“Is this national bullshit day or something?” Martha said.
Max laughed, “I love you Martha.”
Martha just snorted.
*****
“It's not cancer,” Dr. Benson informed him two weeks later. “What you have is something called CPPS. The symptoms are similar and so are the tests and so it's easy to confuse. But the biopsy results finally came through and you do not have malignant tissue.”
“What is CPPS? What’s my prognosis?” he asked not sure if he should be relieved.
“Chronic prostatitis typically causes pain in the lower pelvic region of men. Urinary symptoms such as frequency of passing urine and pain on passing urine may also be present. Treatment can be difficult and may include antibiotics and other drugs. Symptoms may last a long time, although they may 'come and go' or vary in severity,” Dr. Schofield recited as if he’d memorized it.
“Great, so I can expect pain…and resurgence of symptoms. Am I going to be fainting all over the place from now on?” Max asked.
“Not really. But there are of life issues to be considered. The possibility of developing autoimmune disorders, systemic inflammation…every case is different; so planning a course of treatment is dependent on your symptoms. Right now, you have a slight inflammation in your right kidney that we’ll treat with intravenous antibiotics. We require you to stay overnight in the hospital. It will be painful but we can manage you better here. It would be better if you weren’t alone…” Dr. Benson’s voice trailed away uncertainly. He was aware that Max had no family in Boston. Max said nothing for a long while.
“How long will I be out of commission?” he asked at last.
“A few days. Maybe a week,” Carlyle said.
Max just lay back and closed his eyes. The doctor left him alone.
*****
A soft knock woke him from a pain fueled dream a few hours or minutes later. He wasn’t sure. He opened his eyes slowly, mainly because it hurt to move any muscle in his body. The doctors hadn’t been exaggerating the level of pain. If his brain was in any position to measure, he was sure his pain would be about a 20 on a scale of one to ten. He tried to focus on who was at the door but all he saw was a blur. A café au lait blur, about five ten, big hair…Christine.
“Hey,” he said scratchily.
“Hey. I don’t know if it's too weird being here but Gra’s arthritis is acting up and she didn’t think she could spend the night in this hard uncomfortable hospital chair-“
“I wouldn’t ask her to,” Max interrupted even though talking caused him severe pain.
“Of course you wouldn’t but she knows that you need her. So she asked if I would mind…” Christine finished with a shrug.
“You don’t have to do this,” he forced out.
“I know I don’t have to. But I already took the day off tomorrow so I kind of have to.”
Max smiled painfully, turning his hand around so his palm was facing up. Christine looked down at it and then up at him. She put her palm gently atop his.
*****
Christine missed her period two weeks later but decided to keep it to herself until she could do a pregnancy test. She was really busy at work though, completing an electrification project on the north side of town which involved upgrading all the systems to reduce the risk of electrical mishaps taking place especially as winter was coming up and people used electricity for heating purposes. Her grandmother’s arthritis was also a problem and the fact that she refused to slow down meant that Christine tried to take the brunt of household duties away from her. It involved driving her to work instead of letting her take the train like she enjoyed doing. She was also doing the cooking because her gra hated take out. Max had hired additional help at the house on the pretext that with his new invalid status, there was just a lot more to be done. The number of visitors at the house had also increased drastically since the whole state of Boston seemed to feel it was their duty to visit Max in his time of illness.
Eventually, Max was out of bed and at full strength and the flare up of arthritis was relieved. The project was still at full throttle though, so Christine still had a reason to put that doctor’s appointment off.
She was on top of a ladder tinkering with a transformer when someone called her name on the walkie talkie.
“What?” she asked irritably; she wasn’t one for interruptions.
“Wow, irritable much?” the voice crackled from the speaker.
“Max?” she said in disbelief.
“Yeah. Could you come down here? I need to talk to you.”
“Should you be out of bed?”
“Oh now you care?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I haven’t seen you since the night you spent with me at the hospital. Now you’re concerned that I’m out of bed?”
Christine sighed in exasperation, “I’m coming down.”
“Great.”
*****
“My turn to bring you lunch,” he said as she approached him, holding out a paper bag.
“How sweet,” she said taking the bag and opening it. She peeked into the bag.
“It’s a cheese and onion sandwich,” Max said. But Christine could smell it already. She’d put her head in the bag and then took a deep breath so the deep fried smell of onions surrounded her like a toxic cloud. The wave of nausea it evoked took her completely by surprise. She thrust the bag back at Max and staggered to the river bank, breathing in and out deeply. The stench of the Charles had her staggering away as her empty stomach heaved.
“Oh,” she thought she heard Max say.
A hand came out to hold her steady while another rubbed at her back as she heaved. A green rope of bile hung from her mouth and she spit it out. Max produced a bottle of water from somewhere and Christine drank; rinsing out her mouth.
“Are you okay?” Max asked.
“Do I look okay?” Christine replied irritably.
“You look like someone suffering from morning sickness.”
Christine glared at him.
“That’s unlikely,” she said.
“Is it?” he asked eyebrow raised skeptically.
Christine said nothing.
“Right, so I’ll make the appointment,” Max said. “I’ll come for you in the morning.”
Christine nodded her head in agreement but continued to say nothing. Max stared at her assessingly, wondering if he could leave her alone.
“I’m just gonna go get you something less…noxious…to eat. Maybe an avocado sandwich? Or cucumber?” he asked.
“The latter,” Christine said.
“Okay then, coming right up,” Max said.
He walked off to find the nearest sandwich shop, heart beating at a rate that could not be accounted for by the walking. If it was true indeed that Christine was…with child…
Max cut off the thought before it could permeate his entire being and leave him shaking with how much he wanted it to be true. Still he found himself planning to stock his pantry with cucumber and water melon and other stink free vegetables.
*****
“You’re pregnant,” Dr. Mulholland said as if she didn’t already
know. On the seat next to her, Max slumped back as if in relief. Christine spared him a glance but her head was reeling with confusion. She could not really process anything.
“Well…what now?” she asked.
“Now…we dance,” Max grinned.
*****
Christine was waiting when her grandmother got home that night, sitting in the kitchen alcove, a glass of milk at her elbow.
“You heard?” she asked.
“That I am to be a great grandmother? Yes,” Martha said.
“Do you have any thoughts, feelings, reactions about it? Share with the class,” Christine said.
Martha smiled. “Leave that aside for a moment; tell me how you feel.”
“Me? I feel…confused, uncertain.”
“But you knew this was a likely outcome when you had the doctor’s appointment two weeks ago right?”
Christine shrugged. “I thought it would take more time than just once, in spite of your endless lectures,” she said with a smile.
“Well I am proved right yet again. So what now?” Martha asked.
“We haven’t even signed the contract yet,” Christine said in a shaky voice.
“How come?” Martha asked.
“First, Max was sick and then I was busy and then he didn’t have cancer and I thought that the point was moot…now I’m pregnant.”
“Well then I suggest the first order of business would be for you to talk to Max,” Martha suggested.
*****
Martha got in to work a bit late the next morning due to the late night she’d had with Christine brainstorming on the next steps. Max was waiting for her in the foyer.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello Max. How are you feeling today?”
“Well enough to be worried about you. You’re late. Is everything okay?”
“You mean is Christine okay,” Martha said dryly.
“That too, yeah.”
“Well you have her number. Why don’t you call her and ask her?”
“I will. Thank you for the suggestion. Now, are you alright?”
“Yes Max, I’m fine. Living the dream,” Martha was smiling, even humming a little as she deposited her handbag in the closet and took off her coat.
“That’s great. I made you breakfast.”
