Page 38 of The Difference Between

“Once,” I tell her through a shaky breath. “For work.” Tied up in meetings, I didn’t see a damn thing while I was there. “Anyway, I think we should move forward with your plan.” I round the desk and grab my purse, putting as much space between the computer of my crimes and me. “I’ll look over the donors on the portal and make my appointments so we can get the ball rolling on this. I’d like to be pregnant before I go back to Chicago.”

She walks me to the door. “I appreciate your eagerness, but you should be prepared for it to take longer than you expect. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get one to stick.” Before I can tell her I’m an overachiever in all parts of my life, she adds, “If needed, we can send the sperm to a clinic in Chicago for you to do additional rounds.”

“Perfect.”

In the parking lot, I stuff myself into my mom’s car, pretending it’s something much bigger than a lime-green Volkswagen Beetle, and let what I just did sink in. I stole medical information so I can make a baby. If someone else were making these choices, I’d have them committed, but since it’s me, I’ll die on this hill.

At the photo on my phone of the ten donors, I smile a little. They’re successful, good-looking guys. One of them is going to unknowingly father my tall, smart child.

I see it all so clearly. Me and a baby. Toys littering the floor of my condo. Us reading books on the roof then analyzing the market trends.

And there, deep in my belly where this little he or she will soon take root and grow, excitement blooms.

Twelve

“You stole medical information?” Remy sets her glass of water on Mom’s kitchen table, aghast. “Are you insane?”

“Will you keep it down?” I whisper-snap, glancing down the hall toward Mom’s bedroom. “Mom doesn’t know about the baby.”

“The baby that you’re getting injected with after stalking sperm donors?” Rue asks. “How are you going to hide that?”

“I’m not stalking,” I correct. “I’m being thorough.”

Rue snorts. “Do you remember how judgy you were when I went on the treasure hunt to save the antique store?”

“How could I forget? That’s when I saw the books for the store and realized how much smarter I am than you.”

She rolls her eyes. “So smart you’re stealing information to have a baby. I have so much to learn.”

Remy’s solemn. “She’s right, Ree. This is completely unhinged.”

“Your book earrings are unhinged,” I snap back.

“I’m a school librarian,” she defends. “And don’t deflect by making fun of my clothes.”

I look at said clothes—she’s a school librarian and looks like a school librarian. Her color palette could best be described as Vomit de Crayola. Somehow, despite all the colors, with Mom’s wild blond hair on her head and big blue eyes, at thirty-nine, she’s still a knockout.

“I don’t care what you two think, this is a good idea.” At their judgmental looks: “It’s called due diligence.” Then: “And can you two honestly tell me if you were in my position, you wouldn’t do everything you could to ensure your kids came out with every advantage they could possibly have?”

They’re quiet because I’m right. Sure, my approach is a bit unethical, but any parent worth the title would want to guarantee the best genetics if they could.

Remy has never looked more conflicted. “What about dating, Ree?”

I lift my chin. “Maybe I will date one of them.”

I have no intention of doing that, but her expression makes it worth it.

Rue opens a bag of potato chips and pops one in her mouth as she says, “I’ve always heard felonies are the best way to start a relationship.”

I scowl at her. “Well have you ever heard of processed foods negatively impacting egg quality and ovulation?”

She shoves her mouth full of chips and smiles at me. “At least my eggs aren’t going to hatch in prison.”

I flip her off.

Remy says, “Ree isn’t going to prison,” but I think it’s more for her than me.

Rue wipes her hands. “Give me the list.” I pass her my phone, the picture from the computer filling the screen. She pinches her fingers to zoom in. “Dylan White?” She gasps. “No.”