Chapter Thirteen
June 2025
Getting home, the house felt quiet. They’d only been away three days for the wedding, and yet, it felt like a lifetime since they’d just chilled and vegged out on their own furniture.
“Right, cup of tea? And then I’ll run down to the chippy and get—”
“Sit,” Grace said, patting the space on the sofa next to her. “I want to talk.”
Caz chewed the inside of her mouth before nodding and finally sitting down. “Okay.” Both feet were planted firmly on the ground, legs apart, elbows resting on them with her hands clasped tightly together.
“Can you look at me, please?” Grace asked gently, aware this wasn’t the easiest of conversations. When Caz took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, but sat back and turned to face her, Grace smiled. “I know it’s hard, and last time was…upsetting.”
“Heartbreaking…watching you cry like that, it—” She breathed deeply again and stared up at the ceiling.
“I know.” Grace touched her arm and got her attention once more. “I know, and I hate that we were both so disappointed. But I want to try again. And I know it’s expensive—”
“It’s not the money,” Caz said quietly.
Grace sighed. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No.” Caz shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I want a family with you. I just…if it doesn’t work again, then what?”
“I don’t know, try again?”
“How long do we keep trying? How many heartbreaks can you take—can I watch?” Caz took her hand. “Last time, we were so caught up in the excitement of the potential, that we didn’t think about the reality of failing and now we know, now we can’t ignore that, so this time we need to be more prepared for all outcomes.”
Grace nodded. “I agree. It’s been over six months, and I think, with the wedding and everything all so perfect between us, I’m ready. We said we’d talk about it again after the wedding, but if I’m honest, I’ve been ready to talk about it for weeks.”
“Alright,” Caz said, and couldn’t not smile when Grace’s face lit up. “Compromise: We speak to the doctor and book the procedure, and then we go on holiday and forget all about it for a week. And when we get back, if you’re still adamant you want to do it, we’ll do it.”
Grace shook her head. “I want to do it. I’m adamant now, but—”
“It’s not that simple, though, is it?”
“No, we’d need to find another donor.”
Caz nodded. “Yes, and this time we have to be realistic.”
“Geriatric eggs,” Grace mumbled. That was what they’d been told by the clinic: A lower chance of pregnancy due to Grace’s age.
They’d left that meeting feeling insulted. They weren’t that old and already had geriatric labels.
Caz smiled sadly. “Thirty percent success rate felt bigger then.”
“One in three chance. I think it’s worth it.”
“I just…” Sliding to her knees on the floor, Caz held Grace’s hand more tightly. “I worry what might happen to you if it fails. I want…I want you to be happy, and I want…I want this to be everything we want it to be, but if it doesn’t work, I need to know you’re going to be okay.”
“I’ll be alright.” Grace touched her face. “I want to do this. It’s why we got married.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t want to use the clinic again.” She smiled at Caz’s confused face. “Hear me out. I found a website that explains it all. You get the donor, and you have them checked out, and then you can arrange to do it yourself at home.”
“But—”
“I just want to be at my most relaxed. And I wasn’t relaxed at the clinic. It was all so sterile and I had this stranger between my legs, and I’d just like it to be more natural next time. Millions of women get pregnant every day, and I just…maybe the donation being frozen was part of the issue and we just need something…fresher. ”
Caz grimaced at that. “Right, so we find a donor, they come over, and then you’d just do it yourself with a turkey baster?”
Grace laughed. “No, we’d get a donor, get him checked out at the clinic still—I’m not avoiding that part—and then we either have him come over or meet in a hotel. He does the business and then…you’d do it.”
Caz almost fainted. “You what?”
“Which part are you having trouble with?” Grace asked, chuckling still.
Standing up, Caz rubbed her arms, a sudden chill in the air sending goosebumps all over her body.
“All of it, but mostly the last part.”
“Caz, don’t you want to be part of the process?”
Caz turned away quickly, moving towards the wood burner and the opportunity to do something that would keep her hands busy, before she stopped and turned back to face Grace.
“I assumed coming into the room and holding your hand again was me being part of the process. I can’t put…in your…” She used her hands to make movements that had nothing to do with anything.
“Vagina?”
“Yes, that. I can’t be—” She grabbed a log and opened the door to the wood burner.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. You’re a lesbian, you’ve seen dozens. Mine’s no different.” Grace laughed.
“Are you mad? Of course yours is different.” She dropped the log and picked up the brush and began clearing out the ash from the last time they’d lit it, which was weeks ago.
“You’ve seen me naked loads of times.”
“Getting changed! You taking your clothes off in the same room isn’t the same as me staring straight at your cooch, and then…then having to physically go where no girl has gone before.”
Grace laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot,” Caz reminded her.
“Yes, mine. We’re a married couple. You have every right to be staring into my cooch for these purposes.”
Caz put her fingers in her ears. “La la la la la.” And left the room.
“Caroline! Where are you going?”
“Out and away from anything that makes me think about looking at your—”
“Fine, but get your head around it. I’ll start packing for this trip.”
It took twenty minutes for Caz to walk down to the river complex and cross the bridge into Bath Street. She liked it down here, this small area being a crossroads of sorts.
She and Grace lived in Banbury Hollow, which was one point that gathered at the river. Next to them was the town of Woodington on one side, Bath Street on the other, with another village, Amberfield, directly opposite on the map. But it was right here that they all congregated like a mothers’ meeting for lesbians and the artsy crowd, or those just wanting to relax somewhere quiet at one of the numerous eateries and bars that lined both sides of the river.
It was a vibrant and busy place all year round, and because of the bar, it was known for being the gay parade. She could recognise a lot of faces from the bar as she walked along the embankment towards Blanca’s. But her mind wasn’t on registering any smiles or hellos. All she could think about was Grace’s latest request because it had triggered something she hadn’t sensed was there before.
She was horny.
This past year had been amazing, more than she could ever have dreamed it would be, and Grace had been right, they were intimate with one another and the perfect partners in many ways.
They watched TV snuggled on the sofa. They comforted one another when one was upset. They held hands as they talked their frustrations through. There were kisses, nothing sexual, but always a kiss goodbye, a kiss hello, a thank you kiss, a ‘you’re adorable’ head kiss. In fact, they kissed all the time, didn’t they?
But never like lovers.
And in that entire time, Caz hadn’t thought about anything further. She’d sorted herself out when the need arose, just like she’d done for any other period of time she didn’t have a sexual partner.
Sex had never been the be-all and end-all for Caz. Chemistry and emotions were very much needed before she got excited about sex with anyone.
Other people’s sex parts were something special, not to be gawped at, or touched without the other ingredients that would create a distinctly different moment.
The problem, though, now that she thought about it, was that they had emotional connection and chemistry, and Grace was special. And they were married.
This was a major head fuck.
One she hadn’t expected she’d need to deal with. There had never been any expectation she’d ever become that intimate with Grace, despite her wife’s jokey offers.
Impregnating your wife felt pretty intimate in the grand scheme of things. Possibly the most intimate she could ever consider being with anyone.
She pushed the door open to the bar and stepped inside. It was busy. People were enjoying their last moments of the weekend. She paused in the doorway. What if Dani and the gang were here? They’d question why she was here, and not at home with her new wife.
Backing out, she quickly turned and walked towards the bridge again and into Amberfield. There was a coffee shop she liked that would still be open, just about.
Questions and thoughts fired off in her mind again. It wasn’t right, was it? To be gawping at your best friend’s vagina? But it’s scientific, she corrected herself. Gawping suggests leering, and she’d not be doing that; she’d be making a baby.
She thought back to their previous attempt. It had all been so simple. They went to the clinic, did all the tests, and picked a donor. Then they’d gone back to the clinic, Grace had had the procedure, and they went home and waited.
And then the heartbreak.
Maybe Grace was right. Maybe something more natural was the way forward. And didn’t she want to give Grace everything she wanted? Didn’t she want to make her happy?