by Rob Kaufman
“Speaking of sons,” Philip started again, “Remember when we used to talk about having one. You and I? And then the whole cancer thing happened?”
Jonathan nodded.
“I know we always spoke about using my sperm, since you didn’t want another Jonathan Beckett running around the planet. But I’m thinking you were just kidding about that, right?”
Jonathan leaned forward and gestured for Philip to continue.
“Well, I for one would love to have another Jonathan running around this planet. I’d love to play with him, help him grow up, take him to art shows, get him really cool presents, and love him as much as I love you.”
“Sounds like your drive to the train station involved a lot more than just catching up on old times. Did she actually have the nerve to ask if I would be the one to donate?”
Philip raised his hand. “Stop. No. It was me. I brought it up.”
“Why? What would make you think…” Jonathan rubbed his head with both hands, as though trying to unscramble the words floating inside his brain. “We wanted your baby, not mine. I’m a mess, you know that. Why would we want to bring another neurotic, OCD kid into the world? And with Angela for God’s sake. We don’t even really know her. I don’t get it.”
Philip walked to Jonathan and fell to his knees. He looked up at Jonathan, his face holding a sympathetic smile. “First of all, you don’t have OCD. You just like things clean. And you’re not neurotic — you just worry a little more than most people.” He rubbed Jonathan’s legs. “I don’t know why you always make yourself sound crazy. Unless it’s some kind of excuse.”
“An excuse for what? Why would I want to think I’m crazy?”
Philip kept his eyes on Jonathan’s. “If you think you’re crazy, then you never have to do anything that really means something.”
Jonathan shivered as though tiny spiders were crawling up his arms and legs. He tensed, unsure how to respond or even if he could. Philip’s words hit a nerve and his reaction was more paralysis than anger.
“Think about it,” Philip continued, “Whenever you talk about writing a novel, you say you can’t because then the world would know how crazy you are. Or when we discuss the kinds of articles you write, you say you like to keep them light and generic so readers won’t sense your neuroses. Honestly, I think that’s bullshit. You’re playing it way too safe. It holds you back in lots of ways, and that hurts me because I think you’re squelching your potential.”
Jonathan found the strength to move and rolled his chair back, away from Philip.
“And what does this have to do with giving sperm to a total stranger?”
“First of all, she’s not a total stranger. And second, it’s the fact that you keep saying you wouldn’t want to have a child because he, or she, would be neurotic and obsessive. You are neither. I think it’s just another way of you holding yourself back.”
Forcing himself to breathe, Jonathan stood and walked to the window. The lights lining the driveway lit up the hydrangeas from beneath, an explosion of blossoms illuminated from the inside out. A chipmunk scurried from one side of the path to the other, its tiny shadow following at first, then leading the way as it disappeared into the tall grass.
“And what does Angela think about the whole thing?”
Philip, now sitting on the floor, leaned back and used his arms as support.
“If you hadn’t noticed, she thinks you’re wonderful. And when I brought up the idea to her, she started to cry.”
“Why? Because she has to settle for second best?”
“Don’t do that, Jonny. It’s not fair, to her or you.”
Jonathan turned around and leaned against the chair rail. “I’m not agreeing to anything, but let’s think about this logically for a minute. A girl you haven’t seen in fifteen years shows up and asks you for sperm. A girl, by the way, who kind of went bonkers when you told her you were gay. And the two of you really haven’t spoken since then. And now, because she’s getting older and you’re sterile, you want me to give her my sperm.” Jonathan sat down on the floor in front of Philip so their knees touched. “Now, placing all that weirdness aside for a second, have you considered any of the legal ramifications?”
Philip drew circles with his finger on Jonathan’s knee.
“Jonny, I haven’t considered anything yet, other than bringing it up to you. First things first, ya know? And the first thing is to decide whether or not this makes any kind of sense. If it does, we talk more about it. Then, if it still does, we talk to G. She knows the law inside and out. And if she doesn’t know the nitty gritty about sperm donation, she’ll recommend someone who does. But first, it’s you and I who have to decide if there’s something here we want to get involved with.” He brushed the wisps of hair falling in front of Jonathan’s eyes. “No decisions have been made. Only points of discussion. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jonathan pulled Philip’s hand to his mouth and kissed the soft, padded skin of his palm, right below his thumb. “Okay. Now if I can get my mind back into it, I have an article to finish.”
“S'il vous plaît continuer. Je suis désolé pour vous ennuyer,” said Philip walking to the door.
“You’re never bothering me. And cut the French crap. It reminds me of Luc.”
“Mi dispiace, mi amor.”
“Okay, now you’re just showing off. Go take a shower or something.”
Philip grabbed the door sash and swung around. “I vill be vaiting for vous, how you say, in zee bedwoom,” he ran out of the room and down the hall.
Jonathan shook his head and rolled his chair back to the computer. Scrolling up to the top of the article, he stared at the headline: Data Security Specialists: A Day in the Life.
“Holy shit, this is dull.”
Although it was just a whisper, inside his head it sounded like a scream.
*
Two days later, on a polished maple table surrounded by the faint smell of old paper emanating from the tomes of law books, Jonathan and Philip tapped their fingers in unison. The meeting room was elaborately decorated: mahogany built-ins held ancient books that seemed to breathe decades of jurisprudence, and the large window bordered with sepia festoons, held thick, wooden panes that split the glass into twelve small squares. All of it served to increase Jonathan’s feeling of claustrophobia.
“G’s done pretty good for herself, huh?” Philip traced his fingers along the spines of the law books.
Jonathan stood, walked to the window, and stared at the brilliant blue sky and enormous white clouds silently floating like huge cities of cotton. He grabbed the ridge attached to the bottom half of the casement window, lifted it up and inhaled deeply.
“Yeah, she definitely has. I can’t believe she made partner and we didn’t even know. We don’t keep up enough with our friends.” He turned to Philip. “You already know that, right?”
“One thing at a time, Jonny. Let’s discuss the baby thing with her and then we can talk about what horrible friends we are.”
Jonathan smiled, allowing Philip’s soothing voice and logic to calm his nerves. He tapped the glass of the window, pointing toward Long Island Sound.
“I think I can see the Montauk Lighthouse from here. We should go back there before the summer’s over. Let’s look at our calendars and…”
“And you’ll take me along, right?” G interrupted. “I need a vacation too, you know!”
“G!” Phillip jumped up, grabbed her, and pulled her close. “You look so hot!” He gently fondled the tight bun on top of her head. “And professional, too.”
She pecked him on the lips. “You look better than ever, as usual.” She threw her legal pad and cell phone onto the table and glanced at Jonathan. “Are you going to come over here to give me a proper greeting?”
Jonathan walked over, kissed her cheek and hugged her. It felt good to see her familiar face and warm smile among such cold surroundings.
“Congrats on the partnership,” he said, holding her at arm�
�s length to get a better look. “We’re so proud of you.”
“Thank you.” She sat in one of the cushy leather chairs along the table and placed her notepad in front of her.
“It’s still a bit strange seeing my name at the top of the letterhead and on the office signs. But I have to tell you, it also feels good.”
Philip and Jonathan sat down across from her.
“You definitely deserve it,” Philip said. “And by the look of that suit, it seems you also got a raise.”
She brushed her hand along the notched lapels of her slim beige suit jacket; the black silk cami beneath it showing just enough flesh to stimulate curiosity.
“Armani,” she said. “But I still look for sales. Some things are just inherent, I guess. Can’t let a good deal go by. Just like my mother.”
Jonathan touched the arm of her jacket, remembering G’s mother, who’d died of breast cancer almost two years earlier. G was a spitting image of her mom, with the roundest of blue eyes, their color enhanced by a subtle shade of bronze eye shadow and deep brown eyeliner. A slight hint of crow’s feet extended from the corner of her eyes, no doubt caused by late hours, hard work, and lack of sleep. With her hair pulled back from her face, Jonathan saw a beauty in her he’d never noticed before; a graceful profile, almost angelic, like that of a ballerina he’d seen in a portrait at the Met. The ballerina’s photo had been surrounded by fog, giving the young dancer a spiritual quality. For a split second, Jonathan felt the same way about G and the real reason he and Philip were visiting her. Suddenly the idea of having a child felt surreal.
“To the subject at hand,” G announced. “First we’ll talk from a legal perspective, then I’ll give my thoughts from a personal point of view, okay?
Both men nodded.
“I researched your issue, and I have to say it’s more complex than you might think. States handle sperm donation differently. Some statutes give great weight to the interests of the progeny. And others do not.”
Jonathan raised his hand as though a student in class.
“Yes, Jonathan?” she responded like a teacher, smiling at his wide-eyed innocence.
“You’re talking statutes and progeny. We’re kind of ignorant about this whole thing, so legalese isn’t going to work. Can you dumb it down for us, please?”
“Got it,” G looked toward the ceiling as though trying to translate her legal thoughts into laymen’s terms. “What I’m about to go over with you only pertains to a situation in which something might go amiss between you and Angela. Right now, the three of you are getting along great. If all goes as planned, Jonathan’s sperm will be implanted into Angela, a healthy baby will be born, and Angela will have custody of the child with the two of you acting as guardians with very open visitation rights. Am I correct so far?”
Again they shook their head in unison.
“Great. So let’s say something goes wrong. For instance, let’s say you disagree with how she’s raising the child and get into a fight with her. She could try to prohibit visitation. Or suppose she loses her job and wants you to increase child support. That’s where things can get complicated, especially when it comes to sperm donation cases. Are you with me?”
“So far, so good.” Jonathan answered for both of them.
“Now, certain mothers have been inseminated with donor sperm and later brought the donor to court for one reason or the other. Previous trial outcomes show that although states differ in their opinions, most courts rule in favor of the child — the offspring of the plaintiff. So, back to the example of Angela losing her job and bringing you to court for more child support. If the court decided more money was needed for child’s health and well-being, they would rule in favor of an increase in child support. The offspring takes precedence, not the disagreements between parties. As a matter of fact, in a recent ruling in Pennsylvania, the court imposed a statute regarding child support by a donor. They declared parents are liable for the support of their children who are unemancipated and 18 years or younger. In your case, legally speaking, Jonathan would be considered the parent. It doesn’t matter whether the child is living with him or not. The fact that he donated sperm makes him the parent. Period. So let’s take the subject of child support first.”
“But we’ve already discussed child support and definitely plan on providing it,” Jonathan said. “We figured we’d agree on a monthly amount with Angela. I mean, it would be our child and we’d want to help him, or her, have a great life. That’s the way it should be, right?”
G looked at Philip, who was nodding in agreement.
“Okay, we’d have to draw up papers stating the minimum and maximum amount of support. But I’ll say it again: what’s on paper doesn’t always prove out in court.” G stood and walked to the other end of the table. She placed her fists on the polished mahogany. “You see, although you’re writing and signing a document with the mother of the child, you’re not constructing the agreement with the child. That means some courts would say your documents don’t constitute a written agreement, since the child never had a say in the matter at hand.” She looked at Jonathan, then Philip. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” said Philip. “Perfect sense. But that’s one of the main reasons we wanted to agree to provide support now. Then, if by some crazy turn of circumstances this goes off track, we won’t be caught off guard. We’ll have already agreed to the support issue. And we’re doing well, financially, so we can keep little Jonny, or Joany, comfortable.” He clasped his hands and hugged the back of his head. “Now, what about parental rights? How often can we see him?” He smiled at Jonathan. “Sorry… or her?”
G sat down and rested her chin on her hands. “For now, let’s assume it’ll be a he. The subject of parental rights make this even more complicated. For instance, do you want to sign a consent agreeing to give up all parental rights, which implies you won’t make any decisions regarding his upbringing, or do you want to be involved in how he’s raised?”
Jonathan leaned forward. “We’d definitely like visitation rights so we can see him, have him spend weekends with us, bring him on trips, to the museums, baseball games, stuff like that. I can’t say it would be a daily kind of thing. We’d want to make sure he isn’t being abused or neglected in any way, of course. Do we have to decide that now?”
G pointed to her pad at the other end of the table. “Philip, can you slide that down here, please?”
When the pad reached her, she pulled reading glasses from her breast pocket and let them rest of the edge of her nose. After flipping through about a dozen pages, she read:
“First off, in many states, true sperm donors are only those men whose sperm are inseminated through a licensed physician. So if you plan on informally donating your sperm, which I advise against, you probably won’t be protected when it comes to paternity and visitation rights. Giving your sperm to a physician and letting the doctor give it to the mother can mean the difference between being considered a sperm donor and a parent. But again, the line of the law is muddled. There are so many gray areas.” She pushed the glasses further up her nose and frowned. “Connecticut doesn’t have hard and fast rules about these issues… yet. However, the more detailed your written and signed contracts, the more likely you can have the financial and personal relationship with your child that you’d like. Jason Deitrich is our assistant reproductive legal expert. He’s in a meeting right now, but if you two decide you want to do this, he’ll be the one to walk you through the steps.” She removed her glasses and looked at them. “With me behind him every step of the way.”
Philip and Jonathan glanced at each other and then back to G. She waited for a response. Nothing.
She leaned forward. “Okay, now for my personal take on this. You know I love you guys and want only the best for you in every way. If you want, and I mean really want a child without as many legal issues as I’ve already posed, you might want to consider surrogacy. That will allow us to work up specific legal documents.”
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br /> “I know,” Jonathan said. He pulled himself up from the chair and walked to the window. The clouds had flattened a bit, with silvery gray lining their bottoms. Ominous. “Then the child would be ours.”
“Well that defeats the purpose, doesn’t it G?” Philip asked. “We were doing this not only for us, but for Angela, too. She wants to be a mom and I don’t think we want to be full time dads.” He caught Jonathan’s subtle nod. “We’d like to bring another one of us into the world, make sure he’s taken care of, and spend lots of time enjoying and loving him. But I don’t think we have the time, patience, or aptitude to do it all day, every day.” He looked at Jonathan. “Do you agree, Jonny?”
“Totally,” said Jonathan, turning away from the window and looking back toward them. “I lack the patience… Philip the aptitude.”
Philip turned to G. “You see what I put up with, G?”
“And you love it,” she replied, looking at her watch. “I have another meeting in five minutes, but let me add one more thing. I would get to know Angela a lot better before making any sort of decision. Philip, I know you were great friends in college, but a lot of time has passed since then. You might want to have a little background investigation done first. If all is clear, you should spend time with her. Get to know her better. Basically, you need to feel one hundred percent comfortable before having a child with her. Agreements are great to have and they’re crucial to the process. But in the end, it’s the people who make the difference between a wonderfully civil partnership and a horrific, unsettling mess.”
G scribbled a note onto her pad, tore the page in half, and walked to the window where Jonathan stood. She handed him the slip of paper and kissed his cheek. “Here’s the name and number of the P.I. we use. He’s trustworthy, thorough, and doesn’t overcharge. Please use him and let me know what he finds out.”
She held her arms out to Philip.
“Love you, Love,” he said, hugging her tightly. “And thank you so much for this info.”
“It’s my pleasure.” At the door, she flipped her eyeglasses closed and slid them back into her breast pocket. “You can use this room until 11:30, if you want. And please, e-mail me an invite for dinner. It’s been way too long.”