Page 64 of Geordie

“You didn’t need to say anything; you were leaving the next day. Despite our past, you trusted me enough to share your plans.” I shift my glass to the table. The butterflies in my stomach are fluttering as I wander closer to the point of this conversation. “This choosing to be parents alone is a hard path. I don’t know about your support system, but some in my family don’t approve. They don’t believe that I really want to parent a child. They think that it’s a notion that will pass, like a shiny object that’s distracted me.”

“I get that too. They say, ‘Are you sure? You’re a woman alone. Why don’t you go back to Stephen?’”

“Is that a possibility?

She considers for a moment while I hold my breath. “No. No, that part of my life is over. Have you heard from the surrogate?”

“Aye, I met with her yesterday.”

She lifts her head from her knees. “Have you worked out the details? Tell me everything. I’d like to hear that one of us is making progress.”

Thinking about my conversation with Connie, it feels like I failed. “There are no details; she decided to work with a couple.”

Lily slides her hand over to find mine, sympathy shadowing her bonnie face. “Don’t give up,” squeezing encouragement into my hand. It feels good, like we’re connected.

“I won’t. I’ll continue to search for someone to help me. Kenzie, my soon-to-be-cousin-in-law, is a professional volleyball player; she’ll ask around. How about you? How is your search for a sperm donor going?”

Her hand moves away from mine, and she slips both of her hands around her knees, knuckles white from holding on. “Overwhelming. I’m looking for an anonymous donor. I’m not allowed to see current pictures, maybe childhood photos if they have them, but there are stats.” Her lips turn down, and she’s thinking hard. “What if I choose wrong? It’s possible the information the bank gathered isn’t true. I know they’re a reputable agency. They have tons of success stories, but this is hard trying to decide on my own.”

“Do you think it would be better to see the man and talk to him? Would that help you decide?”

“It would help, yes, but it’s also the pressure of needing to get pregnant now that’s messing with my head.” She takes a breath, stopping her tumble of words, then smiles an apology. “God, I’m done playing the martyr. We’re here to talk about business, not rehash my baby drama fears. I want those discounted wines, by the way. The same number of cases as my last order.”

“I’ll deliver it in a few days, then we can talk about what will go well with your new menu.”

“Perfect, I’ll schedule a tasting for my staff during your visit.” She stretches her legs out, sitting back on the bench. “What’s this proposal? Do you want to partner on an endorsement deal? The new menu could list MacTavish wines to pair with featured dishes.”

“It’s not about wine; it has nothing to do with business. There’s something else I want to discuss.”

She slides her feet to the ground, fingers curled over the base of the bench, head tilted. I’d like to take her hand to make it a proper proposal, but we’re not there yet in our friendship. That will change, because I can see us together discussing what’s best for our child’s life. A beautiful girl who has her dark hair and tawny skin. “It’s about us. What we can do together.” I hesitate as her eyes narrow to curious slits, listening. “I want you to consider me as your sperm donor.”

Lily freezes, like she’s seen something terrifying slithering around the corner.

“Lily, do you understand what I’m suggesting?”

She lowers her head, hair falling like a dark curtain hiding her face. “I like you, Geordie,” she chokes out. “God, I had no idea that this is what you’d ask. Really, no clue.” She’s turning a pained face to me. “That’s a lovely offer, but it won’t work.” She pushes to her feet. “Thank you for lunch. I’m sorry, but I need to go. I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry.” She strides out of the alcove.

I follow her out, to watch her jog walk across the patio into the garden area. “Lily, please stop. Can’t we talk? I’m sorry if I offended you.” There’s no answer. She doesn’t turn around to acknowledge that I’ve spoken. With every step she widens the distance between us and it’s clear another woman has rejected me.

On the trip back to my apartment, I call Layla to tell her I’m not coming in and to push all my appointments to the end of the week.

When I slip back into my home, I re-examine my failed lunch with Lily and try to reason how I could have framed the proposal differently. Did this ask need a longer buildup? Maybe I could have talked about us working together to parent a child in the abstract, but each setting comes out the same: Lily walks away from me.

The debate with myself stops at the drinks cupboard when I retrieve a whiskey bottle and sink into the chair that faces the expansive view of San Pacitas in the late afternoon. Not bothering with civility, I unscrew the top and tip the bottle up for the liquid warmth to slide down my throat. I pull it away from my lips, anchoring the bottle on the armrest. I sigh, beating down anger, ready to take another drink when something catches my attention.

There’s a toy sitting on the couch. Emmy left one of her wee friends, a crowned princess rag doll. The re-stitched smile on its face is mocking me that I couldn’t convince Lily or Connie to carry my child. I stare back. “You needn’t be judgmental, princess,” I roar at the toy. It doesn’t make me feel better talking to a wee dolly. I could drive over to William’s to return this forgotten playmate, but I’m not in a state to drive.

I understand. Asking a woman to have a child with me is big. I think again about the women whose contact information I have on my phone. Most of them expressed an interest in a deeper relationship, but it never seemed right, so I busied myself with other things and moved on.

Lochlan’s advice was misguided, as if I could find a woman from my past relationships. I won’t find my child’s mother there.

Why couldn’t I make Lily see that we’re travelers on the same road? After her heartbreaking confession that her window to have a child was closing, I thought she was a possibility. Finding love and having children could take years. Why even try? I tip the bottle up, drink, and sink into a black mood.

Shadows lengthen on the walls, pinpoints of light dot the landscape beyond the terrace. The bottle is empty and I’m no closer to solving the mystery of women. I fumble around for my phone. Messages are lined up like news bulletins. After typingyesto a text, three dots quiver on the screen until an address and a time appear. Pushing away from my chair, I head for my bedroom to shower and change, depositing the empty bottle in the bin on the way.

I’m still buzzed when I leave the rideshare to walk through women clustered in groups, moving toward the parking lot in workout gear, some with large, black nylon bags slung over their shoulders. Loud banter and spurts of laugher punctuate the night air as I move among them, going in the opposite direction, following a lit concrete path to the building until I push the door open. Glass cases filled with gold and silver trophies and satin ribbons of past victories line the long anteroom. I push the second door open into the gym to find a crew cleaning. Kenzie sits halfway up the bleachers in a middle row, lounging, arms resting against the back bench, until she sees me. Sweeping up her bag, she bounces down the stairs, dropping her bag a few feet to launch herself into my arms. The hug feels good; it’s been a long time since we hung out. The time I spent with her and Lochlan didn’t count.

“I’d hoped you’d come,” she says, releasing me. “I wish you had gotten here a little earlier to watch practice and see Livi. She still asks about you.”

---