Page 11 of Healing Hearts
“There are no corners,” I say. “It’s just a long road of grief. The terrain isn’t so rough anymore—at least not with Omar’s loss—but I’ve got no desire to detour anywhere else or set a course for a new romantic relationship. I don’t think I want that.”
“So were you just dating to make Mom happy?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe.” I take a deep breath. “But I also think I want more kids, and that’s impossible without a partner.”
“Not impossible,” Maggie scoffs. “There’s adoption. Better yet, sperm banks exist. Just get some donor sperm. My friend Gwen, you know the really flighty one from Michigan? Her sister used a donor and had a little boy. I think her sister lives in England now. But you could totally do it on your own, if that’s what you want.”
“Oh,” I say, breathing out the word. For whatever reason, it’s a solution that hadn’t occurred to me. “I guess I could, couldn’t I?”
“If you really don’t see yourself meeting another man, wanting another partner, but you know you want another kid, then yes, of course you can. Your life is already set up as a single parent. And obviously, we’d all help in whatever way we could.”
Maggie must see the hope and indecision written on my face because she says, “Come look.” She does a search on her computer, and up pops databases for browsing donors. “You’d want a fertility clinic to figure out what type of treatment you’d need with the donor sperm, and I don’t know how much, if anything, your insurance will cover, but it’s definitely doable.” She turns a little toward me. “You still have the money Momgave us from Dad’s life insurance? This might be a good way to spend it.”
I did have that money. Tyler had used his for his store, and I think to pay his staff while he went on tour with Mia. Maggie had used hers to expand the pharmacy, and mine had sat in the bank, neglected, not even invested. As though I set it there, hoping Dad would come back to claim it.
I watch as she clicks a few buttons and has one of the databases up to search. She makes some selections on the filters, and then a list appears. With her finger on the mouse, she scrolls down. “Lots of choices.”
“Yeah, that’s…” My mind is a bit boggled by the sudden possibility, and for the first time in months, hope is stirring in my chest.A baby.
“You know, this seems like something you’d probably like to do in the privacy of your own home,” Maggie says when I try to co-opt the mouse.
“Right,” I say with a little laugh. “You’re probably right.”
Already, I’m thinking about spreadsheets, pros and cons lists, genetics, and about a million other variables that I’ll need to investigate.
Indecision strikes when I back away from the computer. “Do you really think this is a good idea, though? I wouldn’t know the person.”
“You’d know all the important bits—genetic information like height, eye and hair color, diseases, and so forth. You’ll know more medical information about this anonymous person than you ever would about some guy you met on a dating app.”
“I guess that’s true…” I say, but inside there’s still some sort of barrier to the idea that I can’t name. “I wouldn’t have to worry, like I do with Amir.”
Maggie stares at me for a beat, as though she’s mentally preparing herself. “Have you decided whether you’ll get him tested?”
“No,” I admit. “On the one hand, it could be a tremendous relief. On the other, every time I look at him, I might see what’s to come. Watching what happened to Omar...I’ve never felt so helpless.” There are no words to articulate his physical collapse, to explain what it felt like to know he understood what was happening, even when communication became impossible. Awful. It was awful, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone two of the most important people in my life.
“Do you want one of us to get the testing done? Check the results?”
“I don’t know if that would be any better,” I say. “I think I need to do it, but I just can’t quite bring myself to do it yet.”
“Whatever the outcome, you know we’re all here for you. We’ll be there for Amir, too.” Maggie draws me into a hug, and I squeeze her tight.
Over her shoulder, I see the screen of donor information, and I vow that I’ll at least investigate it. If I was willing to go on all these awkward dates in a bid to get what I think my heart really desires, I’d be silly not to look into this too.
“And if you pick a donor,” Maggie says, a smile in her voice, “I want the details.”
“Once I’ve made a decision,” I say, “you’ll be the first person I call.”
Chapter Six
Trent
Itrudge through the snow to Emily’s front door, and I grab the shovel off her porch. I scoop up the snow and throw it to the side, creating a path. After I’ve cleared a decent walkway, I knock on the door.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m supposed to be back in Utica in an hour to meet my date at a bar downtown for some big bash. With this weather, I should probably be leaving now to stand a chance of getting there on time, but after helping Grady with an electrical issue with his truck, I figured I’d check on Em before heading back out of town.
I knock again and stomp my feet against the cold. When she opens the door, the wind swirls tendrils of her hair not caught in her ponytail around her shoulders. Her brown eyes are alight with surprise.
“Trent! I thought you had somewhere to be tonight?”
