Don’t get me wrong. What Lisa and I had was great. But there was just something that wasn’t there on my part. Lisa sensed it from the very beginning but convinced herself that it didn’t matter, that she loved me enough for both of us. When she told me this it broke my heart. I never meant to hurt her, and I really wished that I could have felt the way about her that she felt about me. We agreed that Jack was the best of both of us and that for his sake, we’d be friends. Lisa’s happy and I’m happy that she’s happy.
I get lonely sometimes and I’ve dated some, but there’s no one special in my life. There’s a woman I work with that I sometimes hook up with. It’s convenient and she doesn’t want any commitment so it works. But it’s just sex. That’s all. And it always leaves me feeling like there has to be more.
****
Gina
Even though Sue’s my best friend, I never told her that Smith raped me. There were so many times that I wanted to, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The only person I told was the therapist who helped me deal with the flashbacks and pain long after that brutal night. So when Sue went on and on about the funeral when she called, it was hard for me to listen. I hated the bastard. I was glad he was dead.
“The line was out the building and around the corner,” Sue said. “I figured there would be a crowd, but it was way more people than I had expected. Coach Smith must have touched a lot of lives. ”
I coughed. And ruined some, I thought. I picked up the magazine that had come in the mail that day and thumbed through it while I listened.
“And they had this slideshow with photos of him and his family over the years that played continuously, and his baseball uniform and glove and some other stuff was scattered on tables throughout the room.”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s nice.”
“I felt so bad for his wife and sons. They looked pretty whipped,” Sue said.
“I’m sure.”
“Are you listening to me, Gina?”
How did she know I was looking at my magazine? “Of course, why?
“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re saying much,” Sue said.
“I’m listening. You said his wife and sons looked pretty whipped. See? I’m listening.”
I could hear Sue sigh through my earpiece.
“You never liked him much, did you?” Sue asked.
I could feel my muscles tense up, especially my neck and shoulders. I had spent the last twenty years dealing with what the creep did to me. No, I hated the son of a bitch.
“He was OK,” I told Sue.
“Remember our calc final? It was so hard. You were the only one in the entire class who got an A, which totally amazed me because I was doing better than you were in the class.”
I silently snickered. If only Sue knew why I got the A.
“Oh, almost forgot. Mike was at Smith’s funeral. Chloe and I ran into Cookie and her two girls at the mall. She waited in line with Mike.”
Hearing Mike and Smith mentioned in the same sentence made my heart race. Then I realized I was holding my breath and forced myself to breathe.
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “Mike was there?”
“Yeah. Did you know he’s divorced?”
I spit the hot tea I had just taken a sip of all over the fashion spread in the magazine. I had no idea Mike and Lisa got a divorce. The last I heard they had a son and were happy. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. Apparently his ex remarried a couple of years ago and has a daughter that’s about one. Mike told Cookie that they’re still friends. They just realized too late that that’s all they ever really were.”
I closed the magazine and tossed it aside. “I had no idea.”
“Me, neither, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“Now why would I want to know that Mike is divorced?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sue said. “Maybe because you’ve never stopped caring about him.”
“Oh, come on, Sue. It’s been twenty years.”
“That’s right. It has been. And in those twenty years you’ve never stopping loving him. You might be able to fool other people, but you can’t fool me. God only knows why you broke it off in high school. I’ve never been able to figure that one out.”
“I told you why. I didn’t love him anymore.”
“I know that’s what you said, but it’s a crock of shit,” Sue said.
“It’s not like I haven’t dated other guys,” I said. “I even had one propose to me.”
“Sure, you’ve dated. But you’ve never married. Christ, you’ve never even lived with a guy. And spending weekends is not living with a guy, Gina. So that one guy, the one who asked you to marry him, doesn’t count.”
“Can we talk about something else?” I asked. “You haven’t asked me about my doctor’s appointment yet.”
“OK. How did your doctor’s appointment go?
“Great. He gave me lots of information to look through. Each sperm donor is assigned a number. It’s like looking through a catalog. There’s tons of information, like eye and hair color, ethnicity, height and weight, blood type.”
“So you’re really going to go through with it?”
“You know how much I’ve always wanted a child. I’m 38. It’s now or never. I can afford a nanny and Mom said she’ll come down for several weeks afterward to help.”
“And you know Chloe and I will help in any way we can.”
“I know. And I appreciate that. It’ll be like a sister for Chloe. ”
“So, you decided on a girl?”
“I would love both, but I thought that if I’m going to be a single parent, that probably a girl is best. At least I know what to expect.”
“Good point,” Sue said. “Did you get the flyer about the reunion?” Sue asked.
“Yeah. Got it and tossed it in the trash.”
“Gina! Come on. Come home and go to this one. It’s been 20 years. Everyone would love to see you.”
I sighed.
“Promise me you’ll think about it,” Sue said. “You and I can go together. Like old times.”
“OK. I’ll think about it.”
“Might see Mike there.”
I had wondered if he would go. “Is he going?”
“Cookie told me that he was thinking about it. He hasn’t committed yet. But you read those love stories all the time about high school sweethearts that reconnect at high school reunions.”
“You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.”
“But it could happen,” Sue said.
“Could, but I think that stuff is more fairy tale than anything else. I’m not the same person I was in high school. You know that. And I’m sure Mike isn’t either. Twenty years have passed and a lot has happened in those twenty years.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotten fatter,” Gina laughed.
“I’m serious. My life is so different than I ever would have imagined. I love what I do. I’ve worked hard to be one of the county’s top prosecutors. I wouldn’t give up my life for anyone. And now I’m going to become a mom and all of my energy and focus will go into being the best mom I can be. Yes, I would have preferred becoming a mom the traditional way, but life, as we both know, doesn’t always turn out the way we always thought or wished it would.”
When I got off the phone with Sue, I picked up the sperm donor profiles. I felt a little weird, like I was trying to put together a designer baby. I guess in a way I was. I wanted my child to look like me, so red hair was important.
Each profile came with notes from the interviewer.
Donor came to our interview wearing khakis (with one leg rolled up for bike riding), and a button-down shirt. His reddish hair is cut short. He has closely cut facial hair and perfectly straight, white teeth. He has light skin with some freckles. His hobbies include playing sports ….
I yawned. I had had enough for one night. I wished that I had someone who would just pick the perfect sperm for me. I was on information overload. I’d
have to do an excel spreadsheet and rate each donor on various factors. Or maybe I should compose a rubric and then rate each donor that way. I’d go with the one with the highest composite score and in the event of a tie I’d have to consider secondary information, like the interviewer’s notes.
Chapter 8
Mike
Seeing Cookie at Coach Smith’s funeral sure made me think about things I hadn’t thought about in a long time. Like the night Gina broke up with me. I still remember that night, as if it were an inning ago. Probably because it hit me so hard, like a batter who rips the cover off a ball. It nails you in the gut, knocks the wind out of you and forces your eyeballs into the infield as you blink the dirt, clay, sand and silt away. Damn, Gina. After all these years, I’m still blinking.
That night, sitting in Gina’s living room, she looked me straight in the eyes and told me that she didn’t love me anymore. She said she had been pretending. That it was over. Wow. Even thinking about it now makes me tense.
I just didn’t get it. I didn’t get how she could be so into me one minute and not the next. I always thought there was something else going on, especially because Gina had been acting so weird for weeks, but I could never figure it out.
After the breakup, I’d call Gina every so often just so I could hear her voice. As soon as she answered the phone I’d hang up.
I have to admit that when Cookie told me Gina wasn’t married, it gave me a rush. Like maybe she never found anyone she loved more than she once loved me. Not that I’m egotistical, but Gina and I did have something pretty good. And hearing she was unattached made me wonder for a second if maybe we could hook up.
After Gina broke it off, I threw the sleeping bag we always used for making out in a dumpster behind the mall. I haven’t been back to that spot in the woods since. I just never felt comfortable taking another girl there. The tree was our place. Our names were carved in it. It kind of scared me that just hearing Gina’s name could trigger such strong feelings in me twenty years later.
There were so many things I had wondered about her. What was her husband like? How many kids did she have? Did they have red hair? Gina always wanted a girl with red hair. I never would have guessed Gina would become a prosecutor. I thought she always wanted to be a writer. It didn’t surprise me, though, that she’d choose the sex crimes unit. She always fought for people who couldn’t fight for themselves.
There was this guy, Ray, in our class. He was a little backward but he could draw like Picasso. Some of the guys made fun of him. If one of them made a comment about Ray when Gina was around, she’d lay into them. And there was druggie, Joe who Gina befriended. She saw something good in him when no one else did. He ended up in rehab and now counsels drug addicts.
About the only person Gina wasn’t fond of was Peter. He creeped her out because he always stared at her. It weirded her out so much that I talked to Peter about it. I think I made him piss his pants when I cornered him in the locker room. I wasn’t going to hurt him; I just wanted him to stop looking at my girl. After that, Gina didn’t complain about him anymore.
Damn. I hadn’t thought about all these people in years.
I hated the house when Jack was at Lisa’s. It was too quiet. I walked into his room and sat on his bed. It reminded me of my room when I was his age – junk everywhere. Comic books stacked on his nightstand. His baseball glove, spikes and bat scattered on the floor. Comic hero posters taped to the walls and clothing hung half out of his dresser drawers. He definitely preferred things messy.
The phone rang. It was Jack. He was calling to say goodnight. It was something Lisa started. She thought it was important for Jack to tell me goodnight on the nights he wasn’t with me. And, of course, when he slept at my house, I made sure he called her.
I picked up the black-framed photo of me and Jack sitting on his computer desk. We were making funny faces. Jack was about four at the time. Looking at him, you’d never guess he was my kid. He has blond hair and fair skin like his mom. Side by side, we looked like an Oreo with a missing wafer.
****
Gina
I dug the reunion invitation out of the trash. The reunion was six weeks away. I wondered how much weight I could lose in six weeks. If I went to the reunion, I wanted to look good. Not just average, but good. I’ve always exercised and never had to worry about eating cakes and cookies and the salty snacks I loved. But my body was changing, and I couldn’t eat all the junk I used to eat and stay a size 8, even with the exercising. It was a bitch getting older.
I remember when I was in high school and we celebrated Mom’s fortieth birthday. I remember thinking how old that was. Now that I’m almost forty, it seems so young. I don’t feel old. Even the fertility doctor said lots of women are waiting to have children until their late 30s or early 40s. Although he said some have to use donor eggs because their eggs are not viable.
I sipped my tea as I checked my calendar to see if I would be out of town for work the day of the reunion. Turned out I was in Atlanta the week before and Chicago two weeks later. But that week was free.
I stood naked in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the back of my bathroom door. I rubbed my hand over my stomach then pinched my belly fat. I doubted that I could lose two inches in six weeks. It wasn’t like when I was a teenager and could exist on water and crackers for a few days to drop some weight before the prom. I long since gave up the cracker and water diet, but running consistently might help. It did seem silly, though, trying to get a flat stomach when I was going to turn around and get pregnant.
I turned sideways, wondering what that view would look like when I was nine months pregnant. Sue said that she got so big that her belly button turned inside out. It was the only time that her belly button was free of dirt and dust, she said. Now, she uses Q-tips and tweezers to clean the creases like the rest of us.
I can’t imagine my stomach being that big. And yet, the thought comforts me. I feel powerful. Just the idea of a baby growing inside of me makes my head spin. I want to feel a baby kick inside of me. Now, at this point in my life, there’s nothing I want more.
I sometimes wonder what I will tell my daughter when she asks me about her daddy. Do I tell her the truth? That he was just a number on a sheet of paper that I picked because he was smart and good looking? That I shopped for her like I would a designer dress? It feels so wrong in so many ways, but I don’t exactly have a choice. I’m cognizant that time is my enemy and the longer I wait, the more difficult it will be.
It’s weird when I think about something how it seems to turn up everywhere. Like now that I’ve decided to have a baby, I see babies everywhere. I page through a magazine and see babies in stories and in ads. Or I flip through the TV channels and see a diaper commercial. It could be that it’s just top of mind, but it’s weird how that happens.
I thought about adopting, but I wanted the birth experience. I wanted to feel my stomach tickle when the baby moved for the first time. I wanted to hear her scream when she was born. I wanted it all.
When Mike and I were together, we talked about having kids and what we would name them. He loved the name Jack. I loved the name Daisy. It was my great-grandmother’s name, and I always wanted to have a girl and name her Daisy.
When I got back from lunch the next day, there was a vase of daisies on my desk. I knew exactly who had sent them. I opened the card.
You’re going to be a wonderful mother. Thinking of you, Sue and Chloe
I called Sue to thank her for the flowers.
“So I think I settled on the semen."
Sue laughed. “Do you know how funny that sounds?”
“OK then, the donor. He’s tall and thin, strawberry blonde hair, like me, and smart. No. 424.”
"He's got a number?"
"Yeah. No name. Just a number."
“And the sperm's been tested and all that?” Sue asked.
“Yes. I mean he’s been tested for all kinds of crap. But I’m sure the sperm's good or they
wouldn’t use it. Those little suckers have to be good swimmers.”
“But not as good as if you were having regular sex, right?” Sue asked.
“True. They don't have as far to swim. The doctor will give them a good lead. But still, I don’t think they use sub-par sperm. They want performers who have proven results.”
“Omigod! I just thought of something. They won’t get it mixed up, will they? Like give you a short, fat, bald man’s?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Good.”
“Leave it up to you to worry about my sperm.”
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you. Besides, you deserve good sperm. You've waited a long time.”
I smiled.
“So when’s the big sperm day anyway?”
“I’ll probably start trying in a couple of months. After the reunion.”
“So you’re coming. You’re really coming this time?”
Sue sounded as excited as a child who finds an extra prize in a box of Cracker Jacks.
“Yeah, I’ll come home and go. But you have to go with me.”
“Absolutely,” Sue said. “It’ll be like old times. Can’t wait.”
“What are you planning to wear?” I asked.
“The invitation says casual, so I’ll probably wear slacks. It also said to bring mementos for the display table. I found my cheerleading jacket. It smells like mothballs. Mom had it in an old chest in the attic. And I also have the program from our senior class play and our homecoming court picture. If you have any stuff like that, bring it.”
“The only thing I have is my yearbook.”
“You don’t have any photos of you and Mike or the squad?”
“Not anymore. But I’ll ask Mom. Maybe she kept some.”
When I got off the phone with Sue, I dug back into the criminal case I was working on. It dealt with a co-ed who claimed she had been raped repeatedly in various positions by two guys she met at a party. They, of course, claimed it was consensual.
Gina & Mike (The Yearbook Series Book 1) Page 6