Gabe raises his eyebrows and says, “What about your Israeli tough guys?”
“Good point,” I say, clicking the Jewish box, then deciding religion doesn’t really matter to me at all and clicking the “all” box. “How about this one? Favorite pet.”
“Favorite pet? Is that really on there?”
“Yes,” I say, reading off the choices: dog, cat, bird, fish, reptile.
“That’s ridiculous,” he says. “Who cares?…But if you’re picking one, you gotta go dog.”
I nod, then think of Pete the PT and his cat, Fudge, and check the cat box, too.
Gabe says, “What if he’s allergic to dogs and cats? And can only have a fish?”
“All the more reason not to pick him,” I say. “I don’t want my kids to have allergies.”
Gabe nods, then says, “Okay…but have you ever noticed that smart people seem to have more allergies?”
I laugh and say, “You only say that because you have allergies….Although Adam Epstein had bad hay fever, and he was probably the smartest guy I dated.”
“Well, there you go,” Gabe says.
“Okay,” I say, looking back at the computer. “Next up is education….I want a college graduate, right?”
“As opposed to a dropout?”
“Yes.”
“But Bill Gates and Ted Turner both dropped out of college,” Gabe says. “Can you get their sperm? Ted’s right here in town….”
“C’mon, Gabe. Focus,” I say, trying not to smile. “This is serious….How about grad school?”
“If you can exclude lawyers.”
“Right,” I say, thinking of Meredith and pretty much any colleague of hers I’ve ever met. “What about hobbies?” I read off the categories: musical, athletic, culinary, craftsman, creative/artistic, technology, and outdoor recreation.
“Go craftsman,” he says.
I can’t tell whether he’s kidding. “Why?”
“Why not?”
I smile, skipping this section for now, suddenly thinking that this entire exercise feels bizarre, borderline preposterous.
“Let’s see,” I say, scrolling down to the final question. “This one’s called ‘personal goals.’…They ask the donors what matters most to them….We have ‘fame’—”
“Hell, no,” Gabe says, cutting me off.
I nod in agreement. “Financial security?”
“Nah. Too risk averse…You don’t want dweeby sperm.”
“Religious slash spiritual?”
“Maybe. But is that one box?”
I nod.
“Well, I like spiritual, but not religious. You don’t want to get a rigid, judgmental extremist.”
I give him a look and say, “Not all religious people are rigid, judgmental, or extreme.”
“True. But you avoid those types if you don’t click that box.”
I nod, grateful that he’s finally being serious. “Okay. How about ‘community service’? Or ‘improve environment’? Or just a nice general ‘help others’?”
“Yeah. I like all those. Check them, for sure.”
“How about ‘travel’?”
“I like that, too,” Gabe says. “Adventurous spirit.”
“Marriage and family?”
“Hmm. Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Because if marriage is his goal—and he’s donating sperm? Doesn’t that seem to indicate that he’s not very successful in achieving his goals?”
I laugh. This is Gabe at his absolute best—funny and insightful. “How about this one—‘to be happy’?”
Gabe pauses, deep in thought. “Hmm. It’s a little simplistic…verges on hedonistic.”
“It says happy,” I say. “Not pleasure seeking.”
“Yeah, I know. But is the point of life to be happy—or to make other people happy?”
“Well, doesn’t making other people happy make you happy?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Gabe says with a smirk.
I laugh.
“But I like it,” he continues. “If I were you, I’d check that one, the travel box, and all the ones about helping others.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding in agreement.
“But, Josie?” he says, putting his hand lightly on my arm. It’s not unheard of for him to touch me, but it is unusual, always catching me slightly off guard.
I look up from my computer. “Yeah?”
“All of this is sort of bullshit, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?” I ask. Although I have the same general feeling, I want him to put it in words for me.
“I don’t know. It’s just—whatever the donor dad is doesn’t necessarily mean the kid will turn out that way, especially when you remove nurture from the equation.”
I nod and murmur my agreement.
He continues, “And you’re going to love your kid whether it’s a boy or a girl. Or a fair-skinned, reptile-loving woodworker—or a brown-eyed, sporty…aloof Aquarius.”