Page 28 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“Unfortunately, the other solution would be to do another cycle and retrieval. But, given your body’s reaction to even a low dose of hormones, Natalie, I think that is a poor choice and could be very dangerous.”

“So what do we do?” Ed was agitated.

Natalie rarely saw him like this.

“I am sorry to say that, even after talking to every colleague I could think of who might have a creative idea, I think this is where it ends.”

“Where it ends?!"

“Edwin, calm down,” Natalie said, voice sharp. “We cannot help it. We cannot… it’s not her fault. She is trying to help us.”

“She’s not trying hard enough then!”

“I am so very sorry. Your case file looks like a hole-in-one, but bodies are enigmas. You cannot plan to know what one will do until you work with it. I am so sorry. We don’t talk enough about how fertility journeys end if they don’t end with a baby, but I usually suggest couples like you see a therapist and double down on hobbies that make life seem meaningful. I have a list of resources.”

“Please send them,” Natalie said, feeling numb.

End of journey. It was sofinalon a day she was so full of hope.

“I need to leave,” Ed said. “I need… I need ages to just… digest this.”

“Ed, please, I need?—”

“No. I need space.”

Ed filtered out, deserting Natalie. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel anything but sat in shock—numb. She had no idea what to do next, but it was over. They would have no children. The one job she had to ace… she couldn’t. The one thing she was supposed to get right eluded her.

7

LIFE AND DEATH

Lucy woke early feeling an urge to vomit. She crawled out of bed and into the guest bathroom in the hall where she lost everything left in her mostly empty stomach. She supposed she should have eaten more. These days, food sounded unappetising.

They were stranded in Chicago, dealing with a storm that took days to clear. Lucy, Winston, Sanne, Paul, and Malcolm were due to depart for the airport in the afternoon. Lucy’s mother’s apartment was either in the basement of Jenn’s home or a storage locker. Winston, George, Patrick, and Paul all pitched in to help without question or hesitation. Lucy’s mother was grateful, even if the situation with George and Patrick confused the hell out of her. At least she was kind. Lucy assumed Dwight was rolling in his grave knowing that queer men had helped bail his widow out by packing their worldly goods.

Lucy felt a little better. She decided to get food in her belly, passing a line of massive windows showing the thick January snow cover on the street and walkways below. Lakeshore Drive was dead in rush hour. Everyone was home bundled up. Lucy popped a bagel in the toaster and flipped on the tea kettle. Tea appealed this morning. It would feel like home. Still waiting, she went to check on her son. He was sleeping in the room with Charlotte and Leah. The only way to get him to bed was to put him with little Charlotte. Lucy’s heart melted as she saw the two curled together. Charlotte, despite being a few years older, was a sprite of a thing in comparison to the chubby monster that was little Malcolm.

Lucy pulled the door behind her and felt the urge to vomit. She rushed down the hall, nearly running into Patrick. She bobbed and wove, barely making it. Patrick waited for her to come up for air, standing with a glass of water.

“You alright? You didn’t even drink last night, kid.”

Lucy sat back and shook her head. “I dunno. I think I need to eat something, but the smell of the bagel set me off.”

George appeared, loudly asking, “Who is hung over this morning?”

“Lucy is sick, George. She didn’t drink.”

“Go away, George!” Lucy groaned.

“What’s wrong?” George asked. “Wait, wait, let me guess. Winston knocked you up again!”

George had little self-awareness, delighting in pregnancy predictions. He thought he was a uterine oracle. It annoyed his family’s women.

“Winston will sock you and I’m not going to stop him, dickhead,” Patrick spoke up. “Have we learned nothing from Lucy’s first pregnancy?”

George crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Let’s settle you on the couch, okay,” Patrick helped Lucy stand with a tender and nurturing voice.

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