Random Acts of Hope (26 page)

“
Mom—”
 

“We tried! I remember kids having mumps when I was a child, but when you got it
s
o many doctors we worked with had never seen a live case! All the residents and med students who wanted to examine you, managing a moody
sixteen
year old boy who complained—rightly so!—about having his balls manhandled.”

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s true. We kept trying to protect you, but how do you emotionally protect a
sixteen
-year-old boy who has a disease that could alter his entire future, permanently? Losing your fertility is like a kind of death.”

There. She’d said it.

“
I
t is,” I agreed.

“
A
nd it felt like we’d somehow failed you.” Her words came out with a sob. Ah, Christ. I should ha
v
e gone home for this.
Talking on the phone about my testicles was hard enough. Discussing the fact that I could never father kids or provide biological grandkids was fucking gut-wrenching,
 

But having my mother sobbing on the phone about how she’
d
failed me?

Epic. In the worst kind of way.

“
N
o, Mom, you did everything right. Everything. Every parenting decision, all the medical attent
i
on, seeking out specialists…” I didn’t know what else to say. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up about anything. You did everything right.”

She just cried quietly in the phone. I knew what to do (mostly) when Charlotte would cry. I’d try to fix it, she’d snap at me to just let her feel, and then I’d put my arms around her and feel like a helpless ass.
S
omehow that seemed to help.

With my mom crying on the phone like this, I had no blueprint. No clue what to do.

“It’s just,” she finally said, her voice labored with hitched breathing, “it’s
j
ust that what happened was a matter of the odds being s
o
stacked against you, Liam. From the vaccination batch being weak to actually being exposed to mumps to then getting the rare testicular swelling and the even rarer sterility…it’s like long shot after horrible long shot kept lining up, like a dark cloud followed you.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom. Maybe I’m the antichrist.”

Even he could probably have kids
, I thought, but didn’t say it. Mom’s silence made me wonder if she was thinking it, too.

“You can still be a father,” she said qu
i
etly.

That thunderclap? That was the sound of my heart exploding.

“
I know. Adoption.”
 

“And new technologies.”

“I’m done talking about my balls with you, Mom.”

“Your father and I would help with that. Financially, I mean. I know friends of mine spent $20,000 for every round of IVF when they were trying to have their kids, so we would help you to have yours.”

I knew she didn’t have much money, though. Dad, on the other hand…

“
W
e don’t need to talk about this now, Mom.”

“I want to make sure you know that.”

I sighed. The best way to get out of this was to just agree and be thankful. Which I was. Really. “Thanks.”
M
y body tingled with rage and overwhelm and all I wanted to do was to get off the phone and go throw somethi
n
g through a plate-glass window.

“You know I love you very much, right?”

“I know, Mom. And I love you.”

“And no matter what, a child is a child. It’s not how they come into the world that matters. It’s how you love them.”

My throat tightened. “I know.”

“But that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt.”

“Right.”

Charlotte

“I cannot believe this is happening.” Maggie
was
driving my car and we
were
on ou
r
way to the nearest major city, forty minutes away. I c
ouldn
’t be seen by anyone who kn
ew
me.

Not buying what I need
ed
to buy.

“It will be fine.”

“I should have followed my instincts and taken the damn Plan B!”

“
H
e told you he’s sterile. Of course you didn’t take the Plan B. It’s a big b
u
ndle of hormones and no woman should take it unless she absolutely has to. You believed him. And if he’s sterile, then running a pregnancy test is a formality.”

“Being a week late isn’t a formality. Not for me. I have cycles that run with such
p
recision I could sets clocks to them.”

“And that is why we’re driving to Springfield and buying a pregnancy test.”

“D
é
j
à
vu
sucks
.”

“This won’t be a repeat of five years ago, Charlotte.”

“He still thinks I slept with someone else back then.” Her face remained impassive. No reaction at all to my words. “Maggie, I swear!” I c
ould
feel the hysteria rise in me.

“I believe you!” she sa
id
with emphasis. “I really do. I think something went…wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Maybe his swimmers regenerated.”

“
I
t’s not like a lizard whose tail got whacked off and spontaneously grows back.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me his parents
took him to two different specialists in Boston. Tested him thoroughly. You don’t see too many medical doctors declaring a sixteen-year-old boy’s sperm dead as a doornail unless they’re certain.”
 

“You two are at one hell of an impasse, then.”

“
A
gain.”

“
Y
eah. Again. Except at least this time you know the score.” She ba
ng
ed her hand against the steering wheel. “I’m so angry for you.”

“Angry?”

“Fucking pissed! How could he not tell you way back? When you were dating and he learned about it? How long between when he found out and when you got pregnant?”

I counted back the months. “A year and a half or so.”

“He kept that secret from you for most of your relationship, then. That is one asshole move.”

That would need a lot of time and thought to sink in. I’d been fixated for so many years on how Liam had reacted, and tried to tease out the “why,” and then this truth came along and changed everything. I’d been so upset that he thought I’d cheated on him that Maggie’s words were like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.

“
Y
ou’re right.”

“Bet he thought you’d dump him.”

“What?”

“What sixteen-year-old boy wants to think anything between his legs doesn’t work quite right? He kept it from you out of fear. A big secret he didn’t have the social skills, or the c
o
jones, to share.”

“Really bad metaphor,” I muttered.

She shrugged, and pulled the car into a twenty-four-hour pharmacy in a part of the city where no one knew me. “I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him right now.”

“You don’t? What would you expect a man in his position to think if his girlfriend called him up during his senior year of high school to announce she was pregnant with his baby, only he knew it was literally—litera
l
ly!—medically impossible?”

“I’ll give him the fact that most eighteen-year-old boys have the social skills of hyenas
holding on to helium balloons in a tornado—
”

“
Wait—what?” She lost me there.
 

That didn’t stop her.
“
B
ut—
but
—common decency would say that he should have explained why he shunned you. He just should have, Charlotte, and as much as you want to take this on yourself and try to find a way to make it so you can forgive him, I think there really is a limit to what you can wish away.”

“That is not what I’m doing!”

“That’s what it looks like from the outside.” She was seething. “You’ve felt such guilt over the miscarriage. You’ve only known me for a little over a year and your feelings of responsibility for it are so clear. But you know logically you didn’t cause it. Didn’t trigger it.
N
ot one thing to make it happen. And now Liam comes along with a tragic explanation for his behavior that makes sense, but that shows what an asshole he really is and you try to use the truth as an e
x
cuse for his behavior? As validation?”

Her incredulity took my nausea up a notch.

“You’re so consumed by trying to make the pieces all fit together into a worldview that makes sense that you’re missing the obvious.”

“What’s that?”

“Sometimes an asshole is just an asshole.”

We were both breathing hard, my emotions a thick soup inside me. I opened my car door and the cold autumn air was like a slap.

“And on that cheery note, let’s see if my sterile asshole just fathered another child by me.”

Liam

The first text message came from Darla:

Big gig scheduled for October 29. A grand each. Clear your schedules.

October 29 was a well-booked night for me and Sam. $500 each, easy. I
t
yped back:

You sure? Because Sam and I have a ton of gigs booked for that night. Halloween parties.

Her reply:
J
ust signed the contract. A done deal. Get ready to cancel more Magic Mike crap, because the new bookings are insane.
 

I could feel my face split with a grin. This called for a celebration.

You guys at the apartment? All of you?
I knew Joe was in town.
 

Yep,
she replied.
Come on over. Bring E
sme
. We’re make it a sevensome.
 

Esme died.

I’m so sorry!
s
he texted back.
Shall we start a new fund? Go for the eight-inch-mouth model?
 

I’m bigger than eight inches.
How about one that turns into a bear when you kiss it?
I answered back.

You just guessed the plot of my new novel :(
she wrote.

I’ll be over in half an hour.

Buy a case of beer. Good stuff. You can afford it. ;)

I put the phone away and got ready to head over to Trevor and Sam’s place. Er, and Amy’s place, too, now. Technically.

My phone rang. Charlotte. My heart flopped in my chest like a sea bass as I answered it and—call ended.

Weird.

I tried to call back and it rang to voicemail. I hung up.

I wouldn’t know what to say.

* * *

“According to this contract, if we can sell more than
five hundred
tickets, they’re willing to talk about a bigger tour next summer,” Darla explained. All six of us were hunched around the tiny kitchen table in
T
revor and Sam’s apartment, amber bottles, mostly empty, littering the surface.

“When will
w
e know?”

“You need to do the October 29 gig, then another one in mid-December. Ticket sales will determine whether the company will front us for a
big
tour.”

“Summer tour?” Trevor asked with a nervous ten
s
ion I’d
rarely
seen in him before. “Next summer?”

“Yep. You won’t be in school!” Darla said excitedly.

“I’ll be doing my internship, though. Hoping for Ropes and Grey.”
I knew from years of listening to Joe practically have wet dreams just by saying the words “Ropes and Grey” that it was a big law firm. The kind that launches major careers.
 

“You have to go to school in the summer?” Darla looked like she was about to explode.

“You don’t have to,” Joe groused. “Only if you want to set yourself up for BigLaw.”

Trevor gave him a sharp look. “Which I do.”

“Zzzzzzz,” Joe shot back.

“
Don’t you?” Trevor challenged him. “I thought that was the Joe Ross Conquers Law goal. Get a high six-figure salary. Become a douchebag with money. Keep making more money. Ad nauseum.”
 

“That’s what I used to think I wanted. Then I matured.”

“You mean you couldn’t get a summer placement.”

“We haven’t even applied yet! It’s only early October in our second year of law school!” Joe fumed. “Are you saying you already got a spot?”

Tr
evor laughed in a way that made
J
oe looked desperate. “No, of course not. But it’s kind of a given.”

“Because Harvard.”

“
B
ec
a
use
Trevor
.”

“Sorry, guys, it’s hard to breathe in here.
T
revor’s ego is
s
ucking all the oxygen in the room.”
Joe’s joke fell flat.
 

“
R
eally?” I
aske
d. “I thought that was your resentment doing it.”

“
C
an we cut the shit and look over these contracts?” Sam said, chugging the rest of his beer. “While you people fight over stupid details I want to get a glimpse at what may be the breakout moment for our on
c
e-in-a-lifetime chance here.” I sw
ore h
e muttered
douches
under his breath.

“The stripper is the one with the most sense,” Darla said brightly. Sam glowered at her.

“What about me?” I asked. “I strip, too.”

The room burst into laughter. The last fucking thing anyone needed was more tension right now. “If we set aside the issue of logistics, it seems if we can do well for these two concerts, we might have a break that allows for a funded, widespread tour.”

The vibration in the room turned up a notch. “You guys willing to skip the summer internships if that happens?” Sam asked Trevor and Joe. Joe no
d
ded yes i
m
mediately.

Trevor froze with indecision.

“Ah, shit,” Joe mumbled.

“I—let’s
s
ee how the two concerts go.”