her first thought was that it was a mistake. This couldnât be a clinic or a medical office. Maybe sheâd been watching too much TV and thatâs why she thought sperm banks were supposed to be in big medical centers. She certainly hadnât expected the entrance to be an ornate picket fence, with wide-open gates to allow a car to drive through.
She hadnât expected the building to be a one-story white structure, with ten windows along the front that were framed by forest-green shutters. A porch, painted white like the building, went from end to end. A double door was in the middle, green like the shutters, and on each side of the door were five rocking chairs, vacant, swaying gently in the slight breeze. She almost sighed at the rocking chairs. So maternal. She wondered if mothers who had success with the sperm bank brought their babies back and sat on the chairs, nursing the infants. If she lived here, sheâd do that. The whole environment was so peaceful, so beautiful. Even though it wasnât what sheâd expected, it was perfect.
Cara drove to the gravel area that said Guest Parking. The lot was almost full, mostly with pickup trucks, some old and decrepit-looking, some shiny and new. She was surprised to see that every truck and car had its windows rolled down. The Mustangâs top was down, but she pressed the button to return it to its closed and locked position. When she got out of the car she locked the doors behind her. Thatâs what she always did and she didnât think visiting a town like Pegleg was going to change that. Just because everyone else around wasnât careful about their belongings didnât mean she could let down her guard or become careless.
Cara removed the clip she had kept her hair in for the drive and brushed it out, refreshed her lipstick and powder and put on the long-sleeved sweater that matched her pink shell. She touched her earrings, patted down her necklace and finally jiggled the bracelet. She frowned at it. One of the gold brackets that framed a coin was empty and pulled away from the bracelet. The idea that one of the coins was gone upset her. It wasnât just a missing coin. It was a missing piece of her heritage. She checked the rest of thebracelet as best she could and thought it seemed secure, but she wasnât sure.
As soon as she got back to Erie, sheâd take everything to a jeweler, get it all appraised and make sure all the coins were securely fastened. Until she did that, she knew she probably shouldnât be wearing her entire heritage at once. Right now though, she had to, because she was sure the coins were going to bring her luck. She just wasnât sure which piece of jewelry would bring her the most luck, and she was afraid that if she left one at Mandelay, that would be the piece that she would have needed.
Even if she convinced these people she would be a fit and loving mother without a spouse, she still had her own family to contend with. That, she thought as she rubbed the coins on her wrist, would take all the luck each coin could give.
With her head held high, doing her best to look worldly and sophisticated, Cara walked up the steps, opened the door and jingled into the lobby of the Noble Sperm Bank Association and came to a stop so suddenly that every coin clashed ferociously against the next and her heart was pounding even louder than her jewelry.
It was him. Her cowboy. Sitting over there near the pink-haired lady. Could he be the doctor? She quickly glanced around the room, taking in the elderly men. Tigger was there, too, kind of drooling at her, holding a cup. They all held little cups, held out kind of expectantly. Could all those old men be donors?
âOh, no.â The words slipped out before she could stop them. She couldnât help it. Right now she felt as if she were a peach on the receiving end of a paring knife.
If this was the crop of sperm she had to choosefrom, the pickings were
She hadnât expected the building to be a one-story white structure, with ten windows along the front that were framed by forest-green shutters. A porch, painted white like the building, went from end to end. A double door was in the middle, green like the shutters, and on each side of the door were five rocking chairs, vacant, swaying gently in the slight breeze. She almost sighed at the rocking chairs. So maternal. She wondered if mothers who had success with the sperm bank brought their babies back and sat on the chairs, nursing the infants. If she lived here, sheâd do that. The whole environment was so peaceful, so beautiful. Even though it wasnât what sheâd expected, it was perfect.
Cara drove to the gravel area that said Guest Parking. The lot was almost full, mostly with pickup trucks, some old and decrepit-looking, some shiny and new. She was surprised to see that every truck and car had its windows rolled down. The Mustangâs top was down, but she pressed the button to return it to its closed and locked position. When she got out of the car she locked the doors behind her. Thatâs what she always did and she didnât think visiting a town like Pegleg was going to change that. Just because everyone else around wasnât careful about their belongings didnât mean she could let down her guard or become careless.
Cara removed the clip she had kept her hair in for the drive and brushed it out, refreshed her lipstick and powder and put on the long-sleeved sweater that matched her pink shell. She touched her earrings, patted down her necklace and finally jiggled the bracelet. She frowned at it. One of the gold brackets that framed a coin was empty and pulled away from the bracelet. The idea that one of the coins was gone upset her. It wasnât just a missing coin. It was a missing piece of her heritage. She checked the rest of thebracelet as best she could and thought it seemed secure, but she wasnât sure.
As soon as she got back to Erie, sheâd take everything to a jeweler, get it all appraised and make sure all the coins were securely fastened. Until she did that, she knew she probably shouldnât be wearing her entire heritage at once. Right now though, she had to, because she was sure the coins were going to bring her luck. She just wasnât sure which piece of jewelry would bring her the most luck, and she was afraid that if she left one at Mandelay, that would be the piece that she would have needed.
Even if she convinced these people she would be a fit and loving mother without a spouse, she still had her own family to contend with. That, she thought as she rubbed the coins on her wrist, would take all the luck each coin could give.
With her head held high, doing her best to look worldly and sophisticated, Cara walked up the steps, opened the door and jingled into the lobby of the Noble Sperm Bank Association and came to a stop so suddenly that every coin clashed ferociously against the next and her heart was pounding even louder than her jewelry.
It was him. Her cowboy. Sitting over there near the pink-haired lady. Could he be the doctor? She quickly glanced around the room, taking in the elderly men. Tigger was there, too, kind of drooling at her, holding a cup. They all held little cups, held out kind of expectantly. Could all those old men be donors?
âOh, no.â The words slipped out before she could stop them. She couldnât help it. Right now she felt as if she were a peach on the receiving end of a paring knife.
If this was the crop of sperm she had to choosefrom, the pickings were
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