The Donor: When Conception Meets Deception (9 page)



DUMBO. It’s the name of the Brooklyn neighborhood of technology and creativity nestled under the Manhattan Bridge. Tonight, Chase’s longtime friend Andrea Lisi, has opened her cavernous third floor loft to the celebration of his thirtieth birthday. Located inside of a former sewing machine factory the party is bustling with friends and colleagues from the tri-state area. There are indie musicians, actors, modern dancers, teachers, visual artists, a dozen of the city’s young business professionals and a stock broker friend of Jenae’s. Diverse conversations ride on top of a chill blend of house music. DJ Tanaka Hirohito is on the
ones and twos
. Every sofa, chair, couch, stool and brick corner is filled with banter. Whatever space on a wall that is
not
occupied by Andrea’s anti-fascist pop art collection, has a person with a wine glass leaning against it. Those without a glass, or a buffalo wing, are getting their grooves on near Tanaka’s DJ table. This party is popping.

Andrea accepted Jenae’s request to host the surprise party owing to her friendship with Chase. She is a statuesque, five foot eleven inch creamy pink complexioned redhead, with a sculpted angular nose and bright emerald eyes. She was more than happy to play the party queen for the night. Her alabaster cheeks are dotted with perfect pinhole freckles. They make her skin appear like homemade ice cream with vanilla spice specks. Her face is framed by lush waves of beet red hair. The tresses drape past her shoulders and curve at the midpoint of her spine. An obsession with doing squats three times per week in the gym, along perhaps with her Polish genes, give her thighs and rump a juicy thickness that twists necks as she walks the city streets. This is a knowledge that she is well aware of, and uses to her advantage on occasion. But with the exception of Tanaka, no one at tonight’s party, including Jenae, is aware of Chase and Andrea’s romantic history.

Andrea sits on a wooden bar stool across from the love seat that Chase and Jenae snuggle in. She is a bold and energetic woman known for her hilarious true stories. Her blood red lipstick, and toothy white smile, add a captivating visual to her current piece of non-fiction. She shares this story, gleefully, with Chase and Jenae.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. He
actually
said that? Like in those exact words?” Jenae asks.

“Yes, girlfriend. Not only did he lean into my ear with that scruffy militia man beard and whisper:
So, Ms. Lisi…show big daddy how bad you want this university fellowship?
He slithers his leg closer, and whips out his clammy, stubby, little—“

“Oh my God not his?” Jenae says, covering her cheeks.

“—little
hand,
and puts it on the inside part of my thigh. And then starts rubbing on me like he expects a genie to pop out so he can get his three magic wishes,” Andrea says.

Jenae explodes in laughter.

“Wait a minute, you never told me that Dean Whitaker did that to you,” Chase says.

“Uh, you’re my
friend
not my man. I don’t tell you everything,”she says with a neck twist and an eye roll.

“Forget him Andrea. So what happened next? This is so scandalous,” Jenae says.

“Well, I thought to myself. Hmmm…how can I turn this to my advantage.”

“Figures,” Chase mumbles.

Andrea cuts her eye at him.

“So, I sneak my phone out of my Kate Spade clutch.”

“Yeah, yeah okay,” Jenae says.

“But I keep him distracted with some of this low cut boob action. All up in his face with it too. He’s clueless as to how my hand is fumbling around on my cell phone for the digital recorder app.”

“Ooh girl g’head,” Jenae says with a hand wave.

“So, I tapped the little red recording thingy on the screen right? And I asked him to repeat what he just said. And would you believe dumb ass went ahead and said it again?”

Jenae cackles.

“That dirty old man went full pervert the rest of the night. Telling on himself and saying all manner of sexual nastiness. Telling me he’s going to lick this and suck that and poke a finger in here and there and everywhere. Girl it was gross.
But I got ‘em
.”

“Wow, so that’s why he all of a sudden retired that year?” Chase says.

“Yup,” Andrea says with a loud pop of her lips. “I sent his ass home with a serious case of blue balls that night too. No genie out the bottle for him.”

“So that probably had something to do with how you became an associate professor so fast,” Chase says.

“Well, I don’t kiss and tell but…let’s just say Brooklyn University made an
economically wise
decision. I know how to get what’s mine,” Andrea says.

She scoots off the stool.

“Alright you two. Let me go be the hot diva host that I am, and buzz around the rest of these little bees. By the way Chase you looked so shocked when the lights flipped on and everyone yelled
Surprise
. I mean you looked really
really
shocked,” Andrea says. Chase squints his eyes at her. It’s as if Andrea knows he wasn’t truly surprised. Andrea smirks and starts chatting with one of the visual artists.

Jenae rests her head on Chase’s shoulder and strokes his chest. He encases her in his arms like a warm cocoon.

“I love you Professor Chase Archibald,” Jenae says into his chest. He lifts her chin so he can look into her eyes.

“And I love you Attorney Jenae Dixon.” He gives her a long, wet, syrupy kiss.

“Mmmm. Love my man’s juicy lips. Hold that thought babe. I’ll be right back. I’m going to tell Tanaka to take it up a notch with the music so we can dance,” Jenae says.

As she gets up from the chair Chase takes a gentle grasp of her fingers.

“Actually sweetheart, let me take care of that. I was just going to ask him to change the song,” he says.

For Chase this is a moment that goes beyond the milestone of exiting one's roaring twenties. The hands of time pause for no one. Birthdays will come and go. It is what happens between those milestones, the choices we make and the results that follow, that truly matters. And tonight Chase walks to the center of the room to make a choice.

"Excuse me. Everyone. Hello. Excuse me. Can I have your attention please?”

He composes himself with a palm on his chest and nods to Tanaka. Tanaka cues Sade’s
Kiss of Life
. All conversations lull to a close. The mellow groove of the song’s jazzy bass surfs underneath the tickle of the piano. Soon, the seductive vocals of the mellow crooner infuses the ears with a spiced sweetness. Her voice is a slow sip of warm cider. And it sets the stage for what is to come.

"Well, as some of you know I moved to the city a little over seven years ago. I didn't know anyone. I was alone. A little scared I'll admit it. A Boston kid in Yankees country," Chase says.

“Yeah, when we were winning all those championships," a man yells from the back of the loft. The room chuckles in agreement.

"Exactly, Professor Scobee," Chase continues. "Sports aside, this city was, and still is, life giving. Coming here, meeting all of you, my best friend Tanaka Hirohito the world's greatest DJ," he says pointing at Tanaka. Tanaka points back. ”Meeting my wonderful colleagues at Brooklyn University, and of course our esteemed, talented and—"

“Beautiful. And beautiful is the word you're looking for Chase," Dean Ganges says.

“Yes, you read my mind. The beautiful, Dean Octavia Ganges who has been my biggest supporter at the university, my mentor and if I may say so...the closest I've had to a mother since my own parents died in a car accident ten years ago."

Chase pauses, and circles around the room making eye contact with each guest as he speaks.

"But out of everyone I have met. Out of every woman—and there haven't been many—I wasn’t a hoe y’all," Chase says.

The room chortles.

”Out of every woman, there has been only
one
who I knew from the start was
the
one. The only
real
and
true
one.”

Chase fixates on Jenae who is still seated across the room. She looks up confused. But what Chase doesn't notice is Andrea, arms crossed, and back frozen against the living room’s brick wall. Her green eyes turn into murky pickle water. Her bright red lips whisper a silent,
WTF.
But Chase only sees Jenae.

“Jenae. Tonight everyone has come here to celebrate a milestone, my thirtieth birthday.”

He takes slow, deliberate paces towards her. The normally confident and commanding attorney shrinks and shrivels in her chair.

“But there’s a more important milestone I want us to celebrate.”

A hush, like a fast fog, engulfs the apartment. Chase stands before Jenae. Her fingernails dig into the leather armrests of the sofa. He reaches down, and holds her trembling palm. The soft caress of his thumbs on the back of her wrists quiets her quickening breaths.

“I came to the city to start a life. But out of everything that is actually
in
my life…there is only one person that is life itself. Baby can you stand up please?”

Jenae’s eyes well up. The room shrieks followed by voices demanding others to shush as she rises. Chase wipes a trickling tear from Jenae’s watery eyes; it drips to her bashful smile. Andrea’s eyes are aflame. She fumes and stomps into the bathroom unnoticed.

Chase gives another nod to Tanaka. He circles from behind the DJ table and places a purple velvet box in Chase’s hand. Chase crouches on his right knee. More shushing follows outbursts of
Ooh’s
and
Aaah's
. He eyes behold her glistening pupils forcing them to react with a similar watery shine.

“I love you with all that I am and all that I will become,” he sniffles. She trembles. “I cannot and I will not live without you in my life forever. Jenae Monique Dixon…will you marry me?”

Chase flips the box open to reveal a platinum ring with four shimmering rows of diamond studs. Bursting from the center of the ring is a five carat princess cut diamond. Jenae’s arms and hands shake as if she were standing in the cold. Her chest hyperventilates. Her mouth bobs up and down like a swimmer in a pool of trouble. Her brown eyes beam and her chestnut cheeks flush. She can no longer keep a lid on her excitement. She jumps into Chase’s arms; her elbows snake around his broad shoulders and she fires a living room piercing, soul stirring, one word shriek…

“YES!”

The crowd roars. Chase slips the ring onto her slim finger. A throng of women rush to surround Jenae as a mob of men file over to Chase. Tanaka cues the old McFadden and Whitehead vinyl twelve inch record,
Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now.

The room is a joyful noise. A joyful noise with one whimpering soul…Andrea. She has watched what has just transpired through the crevice of the bathroom door. She pops out. Her eyes burn like two kerosene dipped torches. Fire and tears reflect the image of the happy couple in her eyes. Chase’s surprise announcement makes her seethe with bitterness.

“Out of all the people he’s met?” Andrea mumbles to herself. “She’s the only
real
one?
True
one?”

“Oh good you’re out. I’ve been holding it in. Please say you’re done now?” says Chase’s colleague, Dr. Scobee. He stands next to Andrea with a mouth full of partially digested hot buffalo wings; he bends and squeezes his crotch like a little girl who needs to tinkle.

Andrea grunts, “Yeah, yeah”. Dr. Scobee bolts into the toilet.

Jenae has a growing bubble of female attendants congratulating her. Chase has his own crew of well wishers giving him
brohugs
and fist bumps. All is right as rain as they say. That is until the revelry is interrupted by a loud series of slow, deliberate hand claps spaced one and a half seconds apart. The room quiets.

“Well, well, well,” a voice blares from just inside the front door. “Here I am thinking I’m coming to wish my old friend a happy birthday, and it turns out we’re celebrating an engagement.”

Chase pushes one of his actor friends aside and brushes past two other colleagues to confirm what he fears. Yes, it is him. The voice belongs to Eugene Merriweather. Chase’s mouth drops.

“Ah, and there he is. Happy Birthday,” Eugene says. He extends his arms wide and wraps them around Chase’s shoulders. Chase stiffens. He doesn’t make eye contact as he tries to hide his shock and anger while trapped in Eugene’s extra long clutch.

“Come on buddy. Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Eugene whispers in Chase’s ear.

Chase is speechless. His throat chokes as if he were drowning in sand. His thoughts scatter like snow flakes blown from a roof; but without the beauty.
Why is everyone looking at me?
How did Eugene get in here? Oh no, Jenae is staring at him
.

“That’s okay Chase. You are understandably overwhelmed. Ladies and gentlemen my name is Eugene Merriweather and this is my associate Man-Man. But y’all don’t mind him. He doesn’t talk much.”

Man-Man gives a half-smile to the eyes staring back at him.

“I’m an old friend of Chase’s from Georgia.”