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“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything. I should have told you before I left that I was pregnant. I should have let you deicide.”
“It’s done now. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I do.”
“Please don’t, baby. Sleep. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
* * *
We stand outside Mark Moser house. It’s small, with toys all over the yard. A small dog runs around chasing two little girls. March grabs my hand and I knock on the door.
The door opens. A huge man stands in the doorway.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Mark Moser?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m March Barlowe and this is Josh Kingsley. There’s no easy way to ask this but did you donate semen in 1999?”
“Ahh, no. No I didn’t. Come in. My wife is at work and the girls are out playing but I can make a mean expresso.”
March and I look at each other. We shrug and follow Mark inside.
“You have a lovely home,” March says taking a seat at the table in the kitchen where he indicates.
“It’s all thanks to my wife. She recently went back to work after the girls started kindergarten.”
Mark makes coffee and passes them around the kitchen table. We talk for a two hours about nothing and everything.
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” March says when she’s ready to go. I shake the man’s hand.
“No problem. I hope you find who you’re looking for. It happens when you least expect it.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Come on, Joshie.”
The next name on the list is the last name on the list, then the trip is over. I have to convince her to be my wife by the time we are done.
We decide to go to on to South Dakota tonight. We check into a hotel and grab some dinner. In the morning, we stand together before the majestic Mount Rushmore.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” I ask. The Six Grandfather’s carved in the mountain face of the Black Hills is giving me chills. It’s a bit of history that has to be seen.
“No,” she whispers in awe. “Have you?”
“No.”
“Let’s go, baby.”
We fill the rest of our time in South Dakota with touristy stuff, sex, food, sex, and even more sex. I can’t get enough of this woman and when I get my way, I’ll never have to reach my fill.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MARCH
