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“Thanks for letting me know early,” she says.
I feel like a complete asshole. I feel like that a lot where Cora is concerned. “You’re welcome. We also booked you an appointment at the clinic. It’s for tomorrow.”
“Oh wow, you really are efficient,” Cora says and lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh, God.”
“What is it?” I ask her.
“I’m just being silly. I want this so badly, but I’m terrified at the same. Ignore me. I know I’m not making sense.”
“Hey, if it will make you feel better, I can go with you to the clinic tomorrow for moral support.” I could kick myself as soon as the words are out. I’m supposed to stay away from Cora, not hold her hand during her appointments. If I keep going this way, I’ll probably deliver her baby. I’m disgusted with myself.
“Would you?” she asks, sounding so relieved that I can’t withdraw my offer.
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
We agree to meet the following day at a few minutes to two at the clinic, which works out perfectly because it’s my day off. We say goodbye, and I’m left thinking about Cora. I think about the last time I saw her almost three years ago. I’d been in a pretty bad place, and so had she after Jasper’s death. I cringe when I remember how I ended it between us. She had wanted a baby even then.
Okay, I’ll support her tomorrow, but after that, I’ll exit her life and continue with my own miserable one. I’m not blind to my own faults, and besides, I have my family to remind me if I forget. My parents have been happily married for over forty years, and they believe every one of their kids should follow in their footsteps.
My sister Fran, short for Francesca, is married to an awesome dude. Martin is a doctor like me, but while I’m in obstetrics, he’s a surgeon. Fran is a surgical nurse. That’s how they met, and they have a cute story about meeting in the operating room while they were all scrubbed up and covered except for the eyes.
What began as hints regarding my single life before have now escalated to direct questions on why I’m not seeing anyone yet. There’s even a hint of impatience because three years is enough time to grieve as far as my family is concerned. If only they knew. Grief has no timeline, though I have to admit that it’s gotten easier. I don’t think about Tessa these days and want to burst into tears like a child.
I turn my thoughts back to Cora. Maybe guilt over how I treated her is the reason why I want to offer her moral support tomorrow. Not because I’m attracted to her.
***
It’s odd to park my car in my usual parking space outside the clinic but not enter. Instead, I stroll to the building next door. As expected, I find Cora already in the waiting area. I wave at her and walk to the reception desk.
“Hey,” I say to Maureen, the receptionist at the sperm bank.
“Hi, Doc,” she says and then frowns. “Do you have a meeting here today?”
“No, just coming to support a friend.”
We exchange a few pleasantries, and then I excuse myself to join Cora.
She stands up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for coming; it means the world to me.”
Her scent envelopes me, and for a moment, I remember how it feels to hold her in my arms. “You’re welcome.”
We sink into the chairs and exchange a smile. Hers is a little shaky, but that is understandable. It’s a big step she’s taking.
“This is it. You’re taking the first step in making your dreams for a baby come true.”
She inhales deeply. “Yes. I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to get pregnant with a man who is, in essence, a stranger. Someone my baby or I will never know.”
Before I can reply, Maureen calls Cora to go in. My eyes are glued to her curvy ass as she follows Maureen down the hallway. I try to imagine Cora pregnant with another man’s child. A faceless, nameless man. A burning sensation, which I recognize as jealousy, fills my chest. Which is crazy. After today, I’ll probably never see Cora ever again.
Uncomfortable with my train of thought, I grab a magazine from the table and flip through it. It’s a real estate magazine filled with pictures of houses for sale. I pause when I come across a family-type home, and I find myself imagining Cora, myself, and our baby living in it. I catch myself before I take the fantasy too far. What the fuck is wrong with me? I definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.
I close the magazine and return it to its spot and instead occupy myself by checking my emails. There’s a nice long one from May and Fred, a couple I worked with two years ago. They’re inviting me for their son’s two-year birthday in a week’s time. He was conceived via IVF after one failed attempt.
