I'm Your Man (8 page)

After lunch, we strolled back to my apartment. There was a chill in the air, but Gretchen seemed to be in no hurry. That made me curious. It was obvious she had something she wanted to talk about, but equally apparent that she dreaded it.

While she petted Dexter and caught her breath from the five flights up, I poured glasses of wine for us, hoping that would help relax her. I didn't mind if it turned into a lazy Saturday afternoon that stretched into the evening. It seemed both of us needed a break from something in our lives.

“Where would you move?” she asked, sipping her wine as she looked around. “The rent here is great. You've got two bedrooms. You could convert Sheila's old room to an office.”

“I like the apartment. I like the rent. I like the neighborhood. But it's impractical now that Daniel and I broke up. My gym is in Chelsea. My office is even farther. It would make sense to be closer to both.”

“I guess. Except for the whole ordeal of finding another place, moving—”

“I may have that covered,” I said, then told her about Gavin and my idea to hire him as my personal assistant.

“Are you sure?” Gretchen asked skeptically. “He's a total stranger. There are a lot of unscrupulous people out there.”

“You're telling me,” I said, thinking of Todd the thieving trick. “But if Gavin's references check out, why not?”

“For one thing, it sounds like his most important reference is dead,” Gretchen said. “Although I probably have some clients who knew Lowell Davenport. Would you mind if I asked around about this Gavin guy?”

“Gavin Lewis. Not at all,” I said, liking it that Gretchen felt protective of me. “I think moving is a good idea for several reasons. Yesterday, for example. I don't need to know when you're with Daniel.”

“He's not back in town,” Gretchen said quickly. “Martin and I were there to water his plants.”

“He'll be back eventually. You don't need to be caught in the middle. We have other friends in the same predicament. Sheila. Josh. Adam.”

Gretchen smiled and said, “Aren't you forgetting a few names?”

“No,” I said. “You're the ones I want joint custody of.”

“Maybe I should make you fight for me in court,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. When Sheila made the same gesture, she looked girlish and flirtatious. Gretchen looked tired and exasperated.

“What's wrong?” I prodded. “What's this all about?”

“I don't know how to explain it,” she admitted. “Without sounding really weird and freaking you out.”

“You're usually blunt,” I said. “That works for you, doesn't it?”

She narrowed her eyes, inhaled, squared her shoulders, and asked, “Have you had sex with anyone other than Daniel since you broke up?”

I nearly spewed my wine, but managed to merely choke. Gretchen thumped my back a couple of times, and I looked at her warily.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Maybe I should back up. I'm not asking from a moral standpoint, or as Daniel's friend. But it's not idle curiosity, either. See, I want your sperm.”

“Come again?”

“Odd choice of words. Your sperm. Swimmers? Semen?”

“I'm familiar with the word,” I said. “I just don't understand why the words ‘I want your' preceded it.”

“Okay, obviously there are some requests that require backstory. I'm sure Daniel's told you about my miserable years as a lovelorn lesbian.” I shrugged, still trying to recover from
I want your sperm.
“It was Ken who pointed out to me what the women of my twenties had in common.”

Ken had been Gretchen's best friend, the one who'd originally introduced her to Daniel. I was glad that I'd had the chance to meet him before he died. He was not only as sane as Gretchen, but had always given Daniel flawless advice. Ken would have never let Daniel move Blythe into the town house and ignore his promise to me. Of course, if Ken were still alive, Daniel wouldn't own the town house.

I realized my thinking was going in circles and asked, “What was Ken's wisdom about your girlfriends?”

“They all had children. Even I had to admit that I liked their kids better than I liked them. Ken said it was obvious that I wanted a baby. At first I denied it. I was a lesbian who had liberated herself from her parents' old-fashioned expectations. I didn't want it all. I wanted a good woman, a good job, and a good bottom line on my financial statements. But as time went by, I had to admit that Ken was right. Sometimes having a child was all I could think about. Then it would pass, and I'd think it was some kind of hormonal thing. But it always came back.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ken and I joked about it. He said that if I reached the age when the alarm of my biological clock started clanging too loudly, we'd do the whole turkey baster thing.”

“You always did like to spend Thanksgiving together,” I teased.

“I don't eat turkey,” she shot back. “It was only partly a joke. I knew if that's what I wanted, Ken would do it. Of course, the virus caught up with us, and it became a moot point.”

“Because they can't centrifuge HIV out of sperm samples,” I said.

“Right. All they can do is store the samples for six months to ensure that they're not HIV-infected. So I could safely go to a sperm bank. But that's not the way I want to do it. If I'm going to have a child, I want to know the father. Even have a father who's a part of my child's life, if he's willing to be.”

“I'd have thought Daniel would be your first choice.”

Gretchen laughed and said, “Blaine, you know Daniel. He does more processing and analyzing than any lesbian I know. By the time he made a decision, I'd be postmenopausal. Besides, you told me Daniel had reconsidered some of his decisions about the future, including having a family.”

I nodded and said, “It came as a total shock when he said he wasn't ready. Actually, what he said was that
we
weren't ready. He said our careers kept us too busy, and he didn't intend to raise a child by proxy. When I argued that we could make changes to accommodate a baby, he gave me a list of reasons why I shouldn't take the plunge into fatherhood, including my inflexibility and my need to control everything.”

“I don't always agree with Daniel,” Gretchen said slowly, and I could tell she was trying to be honest without sounding disloyal. “I think you'd be a great father. Both of you would be. But I definitely got the message that it isn't something Daniel wants right now. You do. So do I.”

“Tell me more about your desire to have a baby,” I urged. “Knowing you, you've considered it from every angle.”

“I have,” she agreed. “It's not because I don't feel complete without a child. This is the best time of my life. I'm not in a relationship, but I'm okay with that. My career is solid, but not all-consuming the way it once was. I've learned to relax. I've made peace with my family. I have a great life. So great that I'd like to share it. I know I'd be a good mother.”

“Have you considered adoption?”

“Of course. When Ken found out he was positive, that was something he and I talked about. He knew how much raising a child meant to me, and he wanted to be around to see it happen. I've been trying to adopt for six years, Blaine. It's not easy when you're a single lesbian. I've come very close to getting a child three times. But it always fell through. Yet here I am, perfectly capable of conceiving and giving birth. Physically, emotionally, and financially. I've got so much to offer.”

“All you're missing is sperm. And you don't want an anonymous donor, so you're turning to your friends.”

“Geez, Blaine, it's not like I'm going through my address book, and I'm up to the
D
section. I came to you first.”

I was touched by her words. Even flattered, considering how highly I regarded her ability to make good choices. But I had to be honest with her. “You know that Daniel and I were monogamous.”

“Yes. I also know that the two of you get tested regularly. I don't mean to sound cold-blooded, but we're talking about people's lives, including a baby's. So I have to be rational about my decisions.”

“I agree. But honestly, there has been someone else since Daniel and I broke up. A stranger. Okay, a few strangers. I'm always safe, but how can anyone be sure they're safe enough to take that kind of chance?”

Gretchen frowned and said, “So even if you donated sperm right now, I'd have to wait six months to be sure. Which is not that long, but of course, I don't know how long it will take to get pregnant. The longer I wait . . . I'm thirty-eight. I don't have the luxury of a lot of time.”

I decided to level with her, saying, “I still have to consider all the ramifications of this, but if I decide to do it, you don't have to wait six months.”

“But you just said—”

“Last year, Daniel and I got our HIV tests right after we came back from a trip to Wisconsin. While we were there, we spent a lot of time with his sister Mary Kate's kids. That's when we started talking about what it would be like to have a child. Daniel said he'd given up the idea years ago, because he didn't want to do it alone. But one of the reasons I married Sydney was because I fully intended to have a family. Which would have been a disaster. Not only because I was living a lie, but if Sydney ever decides to reproduce, someone should call the EPA. Or the ASPCA.”

Gretchen laughed but said nothing as I went to the kitchen and came back with the rest of the wine. I refilled our glasses, and Dexter, disgusted that my trip had netted him nothing, jumped from Gretchen's lap and ran to the back of the apartment.

“Anyway,” I went on, “once Daniel knew it was something I wanted, we started talking more seriously about it. Although our relationship was exclusive, we knew things can happen. Circumstances can change. Since we were both healthy and had just gotten negative HIV tests, we went together to a lab and put—What did you call them? Our swimmers?—on ice. A reserve for the future, if we ever decided to go for it. Somewhere along the way, Daniel changed his mind. But my point is, I have a perfectly healthy, viable sample in storage.”

Gretchen's expression had gradually brightened with joy, and she said, “Would you be willing to let me have it?”

“I can't give you an answer right now,” I said. “You said you'd want the father to be involved. I'd want that, too. I'm not just talking about birthdays and holidays. I mean I'd expect to play an active role in raising a child. You and I would have to agree on what that means.”

“We can talk about everything, Blaine. Any concerns you have. We can draw up legal documents if you need them to feel like you're making the right decision. But please promise me you'll consider it!”

“If I wasn't considering it, I wouldn't have told you about my sample,” I said. “But you just sprung it on me. I need some time to think about it before I give you an answer.”

“Just let me know when you've decided, okay? Say maybe by tomorrow?” We both laughed.

“I'll see what I can do,” I assured her.

 

I was able to think about little else over the weekend. I felt as if Gretchen was throwing me a lifeline. My instincts told me to grab it, but it seemed like a decision that shouldn't be made on impulse. Especially when I was already dealing with other changes: the end of my relationship, a shift in my career, and the possibility of moving.

Violet helped alleviate some of that anxiety when I met her for dinner Sunday night, proving not to be a hard sell about changing jobs. I wanted to think that she couldn't resist the allure of working for me, but her fear of remaining behind with Evelyn, the Gargoyle of Breslin Evans, and her gaggle of goons, had probably cinched the deal. I privately decided that I was going to build a bonus plan into her compensation package. She was worth every dollar we would spend on her.

She also agreed to do a background check on Gavin. If I decided to hire him, she assured me that she could help bring him up to speed on my needs. And between the two of them, they could make my search for an apartment easier if I decided to move.

If Gretchen and I had a baby, I'd need a bigger place. After I went home, I entered “artificial insemination” into my computer's search engine and maneuvered my way through lesbian stories of bringing up baby. Until Debi and Dora's detailed account of getting pregnant, including pictures, made me back away from the computer and go to bed.

A few nights later, the phone was ringing when I got home from the gym. I managed to evade Dexter's best efforts to trip me, grabbing it before the machine could.

“Hey, it's Adam. You sound breathless. Did I interrupt something steamy that would require full and immediate disclosure?”

“I did just leave the steam room at bodyWorks. All your boyfriends were asking where my big, dumb jock friend is,” I joked. Although Adam was a member of my gym and worked out there whenever he was in the city, neither of us, to my knowledge, had ever tricked with anyone from there.

“Damn. If you'd only known I was flying in this afternoon, you could have arranged an orgy for us.”

“Yeah? What would Jeremy do? Film it for your Web site?”

Adam laughed and said, “I'm here on business, so Jeremy didn't come. Seriously, wanna get together?”

“Sure, that sounds great,” I said, hoping this wasn't going to be Adam's opportunity to offer me advice about Daniel. Adam and Jeremy were the poster couple for marital bliss.

“Hmm, either you're the worst actor around, or you've had one hell of a day, because your tone tells me that it'd be anything but great.”