Childproof locks on anything that could potentially harm the baby. Laurie pulls the door harder, snapping off the babyproof lock (so much for that guarantee), and looks at the liquor inside. Vodka, rum, a thirty-two-ounce bottle of Kahlua bought on a trip to Tijuana years ago. What’s in a Long Island Iced Tea anyway? Bourbon and gin? No, vodka, rum, gin…something else Laurie can’t remember. She lines up the liquor bottles on the counter. And Coke. Is there any Coke in the fridge? One Diet Coke. That’ll do .
Laurie grabs an old Taco Bell plastic cup, fills it with ice, adds a little vodka, a little rum, a little gin. The smell nearly knocks her off her feet. She adds a healthy amount of Diet Coke. No diet drinks either, the doctors advise. Could be dangerous, why take a chance? Laurie laughs out loud. Take a chance my ass .
She watches the Diet Coke fizz in the cup. What will this do to the baby? Alcohol and diet soda. Maybe Laurie should run out and score some crack, really give the baby something to think about.
She is raising the cup to her lips when Alan walks in. He takes in the liquor bottles, the Taco Bell cup. Laurie smiles at him.
“Guess what? You’re not the father of our child.”
***
Alan didn’t allow her to drink the pseudo-Long Island Iced Tea. Instead, he finished it off quickly and moved on to more vodka and Diet Coke.
“But Dr. Julian told us it was safe. Mistakes never happen with IUI.” Alan’s green eyes look lighter than usual today, pale beneath his almost invisible blond eyebrows. She’d hoped the baby wouldn’t inherit Alan’s eyebrows. Ha, the joke’s on Laurie.
“One of the techs in Dr. Julian’s clinic switched around specimens,” Laurie says. “She’d asked for two extra vacation days and the clinic said no. When she complained, they gave her notice. And apparently that made her unhappy.”
“What about my specimen?” Alan asks. “Where did I go?”
Laurie sighs. “They haven’t found you yet.”
Alan taps the Diet Coke can against the rim of the Taco Bell cup.
“Dr. Julian wants to sit down with us,” Laurie says.
“Because he knows we’ll take legal action.” Alan splashes more vodka into the cup.
Laurie’s brain is filled with noises and voices and thoughts she can’t sort out. Like letters in a Scrabble game bag, she could reach in and pull out anything—a Look on the Bright Side tile. After the disappointments and false hopes, at least she’s having a baby. But whose? Did they ever let Charles Manson donate sperm?
There’s another tile in the bag. A terrible choice she could consider—she’s twelve weeks into the pregnancy, only twelve weeks…but no, she can’t think about that. She touches her belly, feels the small rise of flesh.
“Alan? What should we do?”
Alan sips his drink. “Let’s hear our options.”
***
“I’m sure you have questions,” Dr. Julian says. He’s seated behind his desk, as if he’d like to be as far away as possible from Laurie and Alan. “The good news, the technician has been arrested.” His jazz patch dances on his chin, Laurie wants to reach over and pull it out by the roots.
“Actually good news would be me having my husband’s baby. Since that was the plan,” Laurie says. “Have you been able to figure out who the father is?”
A long pause. “A sperm donor.”
“I want to know everything about him,” says Laurie.
“Our attorneys have advised us not to release any information.” Dr. Julian looks down at his hands.
“What happened to my sperm?” Alan asks.
“The missing specimens haven’t been located yet. As you might imagine, it’s a huge conundrum.”
“Conundrum isn’t the word I’d use,” Alan says. “Clusterfuck seems more accurate.”
Dr. Julian takes a deep breath. “It’s a terrible situation. But we have to think about our clinic. And our other clients.”
“We could tell them,” Alan says. “Go out in the waiting room, let everybody know what’s
Laurie grabs an old Taco Bell plastic cup, fills it with ice, adds a little vodka, a little rum, a little gin. The smell nearly knocks her off her feet. She adds a healthy amount of Diet Coke. No diet drinks either, the doctors advise. Could be dangerous, why take a chance? Laurie laughs out loud. Take a chance my ass .
She watches the Diet Coke fizz in the cup. What will this do to the baby? Alcohol and diet soda. Maybe Laurie should run out and score some crack, really give the baby something to think about.
She is raising the cup to her lips when Alan walks in. He takes in the liquor bottles, the Taco Bell cup. Laurie smiles at him.
“Guess what? You’re not the father of our child.”
***
Alan didn’t allow her to drink the pseudo-Long Island Iced Tea. Instead, he finished it off quickly and moved on to more vodka and Diet Coke.
“But Dr. Julian told us it was safe. Mistakes never happen with IUI.” Alan’s green eyes look lighter than usual today, pale beneath his almost invisible blond eyebrows. She’d hoped the baby wouldn’t inherit Alan’s eyebrows. Ha, the joke’s on Laurie.
“One of the techs in Dr. Julian’s clinic switched around specimens,” Laurie says. “She’d asked for two extra vacation days and the clinic said no. When she complained, they gave her notice. And apparently that made her unhappy.”
“What about my specimen?” Alan asks. “Where did I go?”
Laurie sighs. “They haven’t found you yet.”
Alan taps the Diet Coke can against the rim of the Taco Bell cup.
“Dr. Julian wants to sit down with us,” Laurie says.
“Because he knows we’ll take legal action.” Alan splashes more vodka into the cup.
Laurie’s brain is filled with noises and voices and thoughts she can’t sort out. Like letters in a Scrabble game bag, she could reach in and pull out anything—a Look on the Bright Side tile. After the disappointments and false hopes, at least she’s having a baby. But whose? Did they ever let Charles Manson donate sperm?
There’s another tile in the bag. A terrible choice she could consider—she’s twelve weeks into the pregnancy, only twelve weeks…but no, she can’t think about that. She touches her belly, feels the small rise of flesh.
“Alan? What should we do?”
Alan sips his drink. “Let’s hear our options.”
***
“I’m sure you have questions,” Dr. Julian says. He’s seated behind his desk, as if he’d like to be as far away as possible from Laurie and Alan. “The good news, the technician has been arrested.” His jazz patch dances on his chin, Laurie wants to reach over and pull it out by the roots.
“Actually good news would be me having my husband’s baby. Since that was the plan,” Laurie says. “Have you been able to figure out who the father is?”
A long pause. “A sperm donor.”
“I want to know everything about him,” says Laurie.
“Our attorneys have advised us not to release any information.” Dr. Julian looks down at his hands.
“What happened to my sperm?” Alan asks.
“The missing specimens haven’t been located yet. As you might imagine, it’s a huge conundrum.”
“Conundrum isn’t the word I’d use,” Alan says. “Clusterfuck seems more accurate.”
Dr. Julian takes a deep breath. “It’s a terrible situation. But we have to think about our clinic. And our other clients.”
“We could tell them,” Alan says. “Go out in the waiting room, let everybody know what’s
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