Chapter 13 #2
“She should be here by now,” I said as Lauren leaned back on my sofa and eyed me critically. “What?”
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“Franky would make a great mom.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting that this is your first line of defense. I never thought she wouldn’t, but maybe you’re worried that people will see the two of you as co-parents and wonder ‘how did that happen?’”
“Is that why you think it’s weird?”
“No. I think it’s weird because you’re my age and you’ve already decided you’re not likely to meet someone to fall for in a real sense. You have years to spread your seed and find a woman who’ll put up with this.” She waved a hand over me.
I mimicked her action. “This?”
“I’ve never seen the appeal personally, but you’re not a complete troll, Jason. Some women think you’re hot—in fact, you’re trending in the top ten of HILFs right now.”
“HILFs?”
“Hockey Hunks I’d like to, uh, get to know better. The second H is silent.”
Those stupid lists. Like they had any reflection on real life.
Lauren narrowed her gaze. “Would this have anything to do with Everly recently announcing her pregnancy with Ryan Coughlan?”
“Good for her.”
“Sure.” Only Lauren knew how much it had hurt. “She’s just one woman. One relationship that didn’t pan out.”
I took a seat and faced her. “I can’t say seeing Everly happy and knocked up with Coughlan didn’t throw me. But she’s not the first time I’ve struck out.”
“The supermodel?”
Zara was probably out of my league, not that I’d have ever told her.
“Or that influencer chick?”
“She was kind of on the young side.” I could admit it now.
“And using you for clout. Have you ever thought that these women you date are just incompatible because of …” She counted off on her fingers.
“Age, intelligence, different time in their lives? You should be using a matchmaking service or swiping right on women who are in the market for marriage and kids! Not fathering a kid with someone you’ve never liked because you think it’s your last shot. ”
“Matchmaking service? Are you doing that?”
She reddened slightly. “I’m the same age as you, J. The options are even less viable for a woman.” Lauren had never seemed all that interested in settling down. Then neither was I. “I’m alpha testing Landon’s app,” she added.
“So how’s it going?”
“We’re not talking about my sex life.”
I sighed. “These women I’ve dated—I never went in with the intention of long-term until Everly. And now I see she wanted someone younger, with more potential.” Coughlan was barely twenty-five, Hatch’s age, and I suspected now that they’d been together before we parted. It had all happened so fast.
Everly had wounded me, not going to lie. When someone betrays you like that, it turns a part of you inward. My heart might be ice-compacted when it came to women, but not with others. I had a lot of love to give, only now it would be all for my kid.
“It made me realize that the relationship stuff is too complicated.”
“And a kid with a stranger isn’t?”
The doorbell chimed and I hopped up like a scalded cat. Why the hell was I nervous? This was Franky St. James, who I had known for years. I was doing her a favor.
I moved toward the door and called out over my shoulder. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here if you’re going to be all Negative Nelly about it.”
Lauren cackled. “Oh, you couldn’t pay me to leave.”
“How about twenty percent instead of ten?” I pulled the door open.
I was determined to be stone-faced and serious. No giving Franky any leeway when I had important things to discuss, such as the minimum age for the kid to get a tattoo.
Unfortunately, she looked hella cute in her glasses—duct-tape free today—and flowy peach dress with boots and an oversized sweater, a battered leather satchel over her shoulder.
Her hair was pushed back and piled high in a clip, though tendrils fell, softly framing her face.
For a second, I could only stare, which meant she was forced to speak first.
“Hello?”
Yep, there was something wrong with me.
“Hey, come in. No lawyer?” I had assumed she would bring someone to have her back.
“I didn’t feel a need to—” She broke off as she spied Lauren waving from the couch. “Hey, Lo.”
That sounded kind of familiar. Having not lived in Chicago for several years, I wasn’t completely up on who knew who or how strong the connections were amongst my friend and family group in my hometown.
“Franks! So good to see you.”
Franks? Lauren and the doc hugged, and I realized I was behind the eight ball.
“Didn’t realize you guys were pals.”
“Of course we are. Game watch and book club buddies.” Lauren winked at me, then turned back to Franky. “This combo is kind of blowing my mind, girl.”
“You’re not alone there,” Franky said with a quick glance at me. “So, Lauren’s your wing person?”
“Yep. If you’d rather wait until you have someone at your back—”
“No, not at all. I had a lawyer draft it, so the basics are there. Anything else, we can negotiate. And I know Lauren is your friend and agent, but I trust her to help us both.” She extracted a sheaf of papers from her leather briefcase. “Shall we start?”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t be paying for the medical care. For the pregnancy and for the kid.”
Franky folded her arms. “You can put money in the trust and we can draw from that, should we need to. But as the child will be living with me full-time, it makes sense that they’re on my health insurance plan.”
“Even though mine is probably better.”
Franky shot a quick glance at Lauren. “Seems persnickety.”
Lauren shrugged. “I agree with Franky. The living arrangements should determine the dependents and thus, the health insurance issues. The trust you both set up for the kid seems like a good way to handle anything that falls outside those parameters. I also agree that Franky’s pre-natal care should be covered by her own insurance and not out of pocket for you, Jason. ”
We had hashed out most of the sticking points: holidays, parental rights, health screening of both parents prior to conception. The financial stuff was important to me, but I also recognized that Franky was independent and financially stable. There was no doubt the kid would be well provided for.
We still hadn’t discussed how this conception would occur. The contract specified artificial insemination, so I needed to know exactly what that meant.
“As for the logistics of the donation—can we talk about that?”
Franky sat up a little straighter, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “Of course. What did you need to know?”
“Is this happening at a clinic?”
“Well, it could, if you want to do it that way. But …” She eyed Lauren, who had picked up the contract and was reading it upside down. “I’d rather do it in my apartment. Home insemination.”
“But not the natural way?”
“If you mean sexual intercourse, then no. There’s no evidence in the literature that penile penetration improves the chances of conception.”
Penile penetration? My penile penetrator liked that idea. Or maybe I liked how those big words sounded out of that smart mouth.
“So I come over to your place with my donation—”
“Actually, you would come pre-donation … as in arrive at my apartment before you’ve masturbated.”
“And I’m out.” Lauren stood and grabbed her purse. “I think we have the legal stuff worked out. You guys can discuss the specifics that do not need to be detailed in written form.”
I grinned up at my friend. “Thanks for sticking around until it got awkward.”
She grinned back and bent to kiss Franky on the cheek. “I can stay if you’d prefer.” She added, “no offense,” to me.
“None taken.” I liked that she was looking out for another woman in case the conversation turned inappropriate. Though I wasn’t sure how we could discuss the details without some reference to bodily fluids and jacking off.
“I’ll be fine, Lo,” Franky said. “Thanks for being there for both of us.”
“No problem. I’ll see you at Book Club?”
“Yes. Oh, have you read the latest—”
“Sure have. Lips zipped.” She shot a furtive glance at me, then back to Franky. “They won’t like it.”
What did that mean? But Lauren had already scooted out, leaving us alone.
“Who won’t like what?”
She offered a saccharine smile. “Nothing you need to worry about. So where were we?”
“Masturbation.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Right. Well, a clinic seems rather sterile, and I don’t see the need to pay someone to insert the genetic material—”
“My sperm?”
She stood and walked over to the window that overlooked the backyard, and in the distance, Lake Michigan.
“There’s a swing set out there.”
I rose to stand beside her, careful not to touch because—I didn’t know. My fingers itched to do something other than shake hands to seal the deal. Stroke her back, rub her arm, anything to create a connection that superseded the black-and-white of that piece of paper on the coffee table.
We were about to create a life.
“It was here when I bought the place. By the time Super Kid can use that, I’ll need to replace the rusted bones.”
“We had a playset like that in our yard when we were kids. Our dog Gretzky used to go mad when we were on the swings. I miss that mutt.” She turned to me.
“I know the idea of masturbating into a cup seems strange. That’s why I’m trying to make it feel, uh, cozier, by facilitating the hand-off at my apartment. ”
Cozier? Like Fall vibes for your jerk off sesh? Before I could make a smart-ass comment, she went on.
“And you would need to wait until you get there because the sample should be used within sixty minutes. What if you get into a car accident on the way over, not the kind where you’re hurt, but one where the specimen is damaged or decayed while you’re talking to the police or—”
“Okay, okay.” I held up a hand. “You’ve obviously done your research, so we’ll do it like that.” I’d take her apartment over a clinic any day, and an on-the-spot wank with the professor close by versus a lonely jerk-off in my empty house.
Though why it mattered that she was close by … well, it mattered for the next step in the process. Her part in all this. It wasn’t as if I’d imagined we would do this in a more personal manner. By having sex.
Sex with Francesca St. James.
Had I thought about it in a non-procreative way?
Of course I had! I was a hot-blooded male in my prime who thought about sex multiple times a day, sometimes with one partner, sometimes with multiple, but never with myself.
What was the point of a healthy imagination if you didn’t use it for taboo sexual fantasies?
So the doc hadn’t entered the rotation until recently, but she was there, and rising to the top because of our current connection.
If she wasn’t dating or in a position to find a man to father her kid, maybe sex wasn’t of interest to her. She was probably one of those cold, clinical types who thought sex should be quick, two pumps and done, to fulfill a biological function or produce a child.
But I could change her mind …
“Jason?”
“Yep?”
She blinked and adjusted her glasses. “You’re looking at me weird. Were you thinking about sex?”
“I’m always thinking about sex.” So much for my poker face. More like poke-her face.
“I’m sure you can’t help it.” She patted my arm condescendingly. “I do have one more thing to discuss. Who else is in the loop.”
“Okay. Well, Lauren knows.”
“So does Rosie. Anyone else?”
I shook my head. “You’d rather we kept the circle small.”
“I would. Sure, everyone knows I asked Sean and probably assumes I’m working my way down a list of candidates. There will be enough pressure as it is in trying to conceive. If too many people are aware of our enterprise, that may create unreasonable expectations all around.”
It made sense. The last thing I needed was my family or teammates sticking their noses in.
“And when we hit the jackpot?”
Her lips curved slightly. “So sure of yourself.”
“You bet I am. This is going to work.”
She inhaled a deep breath. “We would have to wait until the twelve-week mark before any announcements. How good are you at keeping secrets?”
“Terrible. But I won’t let you down, Doc.”