I let out a sigh of relief. Saved by the proverbial bell, aka the twins at the height of mischief making. I’ll have to bring them an extra-special present next week.
Leah hangs up, and my phone earbuds start to play music again. But I’ve made it. I’m at the sidewalk cellar door to Clive’s Comics.
The beignets and egg creams were a hit. The pink room is filled with the scent of fried sugar and my stomach is happy. I lean back in my metal folding chair and lick the sugar from my fingers.
“So, explain to me how this works,” Brook asks. She scowls at me, but the effect is ruined by the dusting of sugar on the tip of her nose. “You’re dating Ian Fortune, he says he wants a serious relationship, and he doesn’t care that you’re using another man’s sperm to have a baby.”
“Correct,” I say. Then I take another sip of my delicious chocolate egg cream. Ian and I talked about it last night at his place. He said that he respects my modern sensibilities and my refreshing view on relationships. I have no idea why after so many years working for him Ian has finally noticed me, but I’m not going to question the intervention of fate.
“And your FF,” Brook continues, “doesn’t mind that you’re dating Ian Fortune, sleeping with Ian Fortune—”
“I’m not sleeping with him—”
“And possibly having a long-term relationship with Ian Fortune. Explain that to me,” Brook finishes.
“Easy,” I say.
Carly and Hannah put down their beignets and turn to listen too.
“My donor,” not FF—FF according to Carly means Fertility Fetishizer—“is, like I said, a good guy. You guys were full of it. He doesn’t have a fetish, or hundreds of sperm donations floating around the country, and he isn’t planning on blackmailing me—”
Carly raises her eyebrows and Hannah covers her mouth to smother a laugh.
“You asked him?” Brook asks. “You actually asked him if he has a fertility fetish?”
I wince in embarrassment. It wasn’t one of my better moments.
Carly starts to laugh and Hannah joins in.
“Obviously you guys got to me. But never again.” I shake my head. “I’m on to you now and I realize you’re all totally full of it. My FF, my donor, is a great guy who is doing this as a friend. He’s not upset about Ian, because he and I are friends. Neither of us has an opinion about the other’s love life.”
Brook shakes her head, and I watch the sugar on the tip of her nose. “Ian Fortune, he’s that self-help guy right?”
“That’s right,” I say.
“He’s sexy,” Carly says.
Brook interrupts, “sorry to burst your bubble, sunshine, but the self-help ones are the craziest of them all. I’ve represented a few therapists and the things they did would keep you up for weeks.”
“Don’t tell us that crazy barrel story again,” Hannah says. “You got that from a true crime show. I saw it too.”
Brook scoffs. “Did you ever think that maybe the true crime episode was based on my case?”
Hannah gives the ceiling a beseeching glance, then looks at me. “If you want to date a life coach then you can date a life coach. I bet he has a really well-developed sixth chakra. And maybe he does tantra. Yeah…wow.” She looks a little dazed at the thought.
“What’s tantra?” Carly asks.
“Cosmic orgasms,” Brook says.
I gesture at her to dust her nose off. She gives me a look and shakes her head. I dust my nose harder but she ignores me.
“Are you starting your IVF cycle soon?” Hannah asks, changing the topic.
I nod. “My period’s due next week.”
“Well, then it’s our duty to get you ready for the rollercoaster,” Brook says. “Sit down, strap in, and listen to the instructions.”
“Are you doing fertility acupuncture?” Hannah asks.
I shake my head no.
“You should, it’ll help thicken your lining.”
Brook sighs and rolls her eyes.
Hannah grabs her quilted fabric purse and digs through it until she pulls out another stapled document.
“Here’s my holistic protocol.” She flips through the pages. “Acupuncture twice weekly. Herbal supplements, I can get you the names. Daily fertility meditation. Energy work. I’ve got my crystals. There are a few teas that are good. I bought grounding sheets for this time, I think living on the fifteenth floor is preventing me from connecting with the energy of the earth. Also, I’ve cut out dairy, sugar, and gluten, and am increasing intake of liver—”
“I thought it was herring?” asks Carly.
“No. Liver,” Hannah frowns and flips through her sheet. “And coconut oil.” She flips the pages to the end, “Oh. And pomegranate seeds. And this time, after the transfer, I’m going to give my husband a…you know what and I’ll swallow. That’s supposed to help too.”
Carly coughs into her hand. Brook just shakes her head.
“Isn’t that to induce labor?” I ask. I think I remember Leah telling me about that during her last pregnancy.
Brook snorts. “Yeah right. I call BS. That’s a rumor made up by men to get desperate women who just want to go into labor to give them one last BJ before the baby comes. A woman at forty-plus weeks will try anything to induce labor.”
“How do you know?” Hannah asks. “It could work.”
Brook just gives her a hard look, but the effect is ruined by the sugar smeared on her nose.
“I’m still going to try it,” Hannah says. “Unlike you, I’m interested in improving my chances by whatever means necessary. You won’t be laughing at my herbs and crystals when this time next month I’m pregnant.”
Brook sighs and brushes her copper bangs out of her eyes. “You’re right. I’m a bitter, chain-smoking lawyer with a glass-completely-empty kind of perspective. Sorry.”
Hannah shrugs and sets her purse down. “No worries. As soon as your husband starts taking maca, your worries will be over.”
“I’ll bet,” Brook says.
Then Carly clears her throat. “I’ve had my transfer. I’m in my two-week wait.”
“You have?” Hannah cries. “Do you feel pregnant?”
Carly lifts a shoulder in her elegant version of a shrug. “We had one embryo. A girl. We’ll see.”