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“Oh, right. Her name.” She blinks. “I never told you. Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte.”

“That’s pretty,” I say with a nod.

“Thanks.”

“Tell her sorry for the peanut allergy.”

“It’s okay.” She writes it down. “It kind of broke my brother’s heart, though. Really limited what treats he could bake for her. He runs the Muffin Top bakery uptown.”

My jaw drops in excitement. “Your brother is the muffin guy?”

“Vincent.” She nods. “The one and only.”

“I love that place.”

“I’ll pass it along.”

“Wow…” I lean back. “I fathered the muffin guy’s niece. That’s cool.”

Anna laughs, her shoulders losing even more of their stiffness. “Okay, try to answer these next ones for back when you donated. Recent info isn’t really relevant.”

“Five years ago…” I nod, thinking back. I had just moved to Boston. I cringe. “Go ahead.”

She puts pen to paper. “Do you have, or have you ever had, an STD?” she asks.

My lips twitch. “No.”

She makes a quick checkmark. “Do you smoke?”

“Not since high school.”

Another one. “Drink?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Enough to keep me sane.”

She smirks at the joke. “Do you get drunk often?” she rephrases.

“No,” I say. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Any history with recreational drugs?”

“Are you on duty, Detective?” I ask.

She looks up and smiles. “No.”

“A joint here and there,” I answer. “No needles, no powders.”

“Pills?”

“Nope.”

She takes a few more notes. “Do you want to have more kids?”

I pause. “With you?”