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“You make it sound so easy,” I say, rubbing my aching forehead.
“Well, it’s definitely not easy. This is as complicated as trying to sneak back into the house when we were sixteen,” Abby quips, a smile playing on both of our lips. Ahh, yes. I recall that night very well.
“What do I do?” I plead.
“First off, is this just a donation or does he want to be involved?”
“He wants to be involved. And if I were to actually think about this for a second, which I’m not, I guess it would be really nice to have someone to help me. I mean, I know I could do it solo, but to have someone to share the load is appealing.”
“Definitely. If you need a break, you’ll have help. Plus, the financial assistance is definitely a plus. Jani struggled for years just to put food on the table for herself because after she paid the bills and bought food and diapers for Elijah, she barely had anything left.” Abby’s referring to a woman we went to high school with who got pregnant just out of school. The father didn’t stick around long enough to see the start of the second trimester, but Jani was determined to do it herself.
The difference between our friend and me is that I have a good, established job with enough income to pay my bills and put a little bit each week into savings. Financially, with a bit of adjustment to accommodate the cost of food, diapers, medical care, childcare, and such, I can make it work. But sharing the financial responsibility definitely goes in the plus category.
“But what about him. I mean, I don’t even know him,” I tell her, because honestly, that’s one of my biggest hang-ups.
“So, get to know him. I mean, you don’t have to make this decision right now, correct? You could hold off on the sperm bank purchase for another month, get to know Linkin, and see if you can put up with him in your life for the next eighteen years,” she says with a shoulder shrug, like it’s so logical.
“I can barely put up with him for eighteen minutes, let alone eighteen years.” But even as I say the words, I know they’re not true. I know he pushes my buttons, but he does it on purpose. The night I watched the movie and ate pizza with him and his brothers, I actually really enjoyed his company.
Plus, there’s the way he treats his brothers. He’s a wonderful big brother, I can tell by how happy the boys were with him. They love him, and the thought of bringing a baby into the mix, one that will be right smack dab in the middle of the sword fights, puts a happy little beat in my chest and a smile on my face.
“I think you’re right. I can’t make this decision today. I need to get to know him and make sure that this is the right thing to do.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always liked Linkin. Ever since he moved in here six months ago or so, he’s been nice and considerate and a good neighbor.”
“I know,” I reply because I do. He’s all of those things with me too.
But a baby?
I just need a little time to think about it.
“Come on. It’s almost time to head to the café for lunch. You can ride with me,” Abby says as she stands up and stumbles a little.
Giggling, I reach for my phone. “I’ll call someone who hasn’t been drinking spiked lemonade since ten in the morning,” I snort as I try to call up one of my sisters, but the names are dancing on the screen. “How much vodka did you put in that pitcher?”
Abby snorts and laughs at the same time. “Uhhhh, just a little. A little under half the bottle.” She starts laughing, which makes me laugh. We both giggle and snort until the tears are rolling and the bellies are hurting.
“Come on. I know where we can get a ride,” I tell her as we head towards the front door.
I walk diagonally (not because I can’t walk straight, but because that’s where I’m going) until I reach the door I’m looking for. Without giving it any ounce of thought, I raise my hand and knock. When he answers the door, his hair wet from a shower, dark jeans hugging his powerful legs, and a shirt that’s molded to perfection on those muscular arms, I almost tell him yes.
Yes, I’ll take your sperm.
Instead, I say, “Come on. We’re going to lunch with my family.”
“We?” he asks, crossing those strong arms across his chest, making a little string of drool drip down my chin.
“Yes, we. Me, Abby, and you. You’re driving too because some vodka fell into Abby’s lemonade and we may have drank it,” I tell him.
“You’re buzzed? At eleven a.m.”
“Don’t judge me. An hour ago, you offered to impregnate me just because I want a baby.”
“That I did, Firecracker. Let me grab my jacket,” he says, turning and heading back into his apartment.
“I can practically see the testosterone rolling off of him, Lexi. You have to do it with him. It’s practically your duty for women everywhere,” Abby whispers beside me, not taking her eyes off Linkin’s backside.
“I’m telling Levi you’re ogling the neighbor,” I fire back at her, causing her eyes to widen in worry.
