“I feel bad you won’t ever know the pleasure of getting a local anesthetic in the nuts. I mean, once you get over the nausea, a needle to the sack really makes you feel like a man.”
“The only thing I feel right now is inadequate.”
But the TESA failed as well. After the doctor called with the unsurprising news, Melanie went straight out with the dog. Erik stayed put.
Slumped at his desk, he pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, feeling older than he had a right to, and relieved he was finally excused from all of this. He was done. No more would his private parts be under constant public scrutiny. No more acronyms. No more every other word being “sperm” or “semen” or “ejaculate.” No more needles and specimen cups and everything below the belt. The verdict was in.
He wrote sterile on a post-it, taking a good look at the word. He couldn’t connect with it yet. He was too occupied with liberated joy that everyone, including Melanie, would finally get out of his pants and leave him alone.
His computer beeped. He tore off the note and crumpled it as he jiggled the mouse, bringing the dimmed screen back to life. He had been waiting for his brother. They always talked on Thursday nights, via instant messaging.
Ptfiskare74: Hey bro… How’d it go yesterday? You hear anything?
Efiskare: Yeah just hung up with the doc actually. Nada.
Ptfiskare74: Nada like they found nothing or nada found nothing that was swimming?
Efiskare: No swimmers.
Ptfiskare75: Shit. What now?
Efiskare: We look for a donor or adopt.
Ptfiskare74: What are you leaning toward?
Efiskare: I don’t know yet.
Ptfiskare74: Well…I don’t know how you feel about this but if you want, I’ll do it.
Efiskare: Do what?
Ptfiskare74: I’ll donate. Don’t make me spell it all out. You know how I blush…
Efiskare: Really?
Ptfiskare74: Of course. If you guys wanted. I mean… I feel kind of responsible that you can’t.
Efiskare: What the fuck are you talking about?
Ptfiskare74: Come on, I gave you the mumps and screwed up your boys.
Efiskare: Dude, shut up.
Ptfiskare74: I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you. I’ll do it yesterday. You let me know.
Pete’s offer kindled Erik’s interest. He felt a little genuine excitement. Pete. Of course. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect solution.
But Melanie refused. She wanted a donor. Furthermore, she was beginning to feel she wanted a black donor.
And then it was war.
Erik’s ancestral hackles were up. He was not only filled with residual gonadotropin, but with insulted Italo-Swedish rage. He turned on her, wounded and angry. Was she declaring him of defective stock, his bloodline and genes of no use to her? He had no problem raising a child who was a biological niece or nephew. It would be blood. He would have a bond. A connection.
“My parents are dead,” she said.
“What does that have to do with it?”
“It has everything to do with it. My parents are gone. My sister’s not having any kids. I’m the only one left. I’m continuing my father’s line.”
“And I’m not?”
“Pete has two kids. You have both your parents and you could not care less about your father’s line.”
He couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d spit in his face. “Fuck you, I have both my parents. How can you even say that?”
“You know you won’t ever look for your father, Erik. You’re not even in touch with any of your cousins on his side.”
“You have a lot of nerve, Mel. You know nothing about what I went through when he left. Nothing.”
“Maybe if you told me—”
“Oh, I see where we’re going. You’re hung up on knowing every little thing about my past.”
“I bet you told her about your father.”
There was no question who she meant but this was an unexpected smoke bomb. He kicked the explosive topic aside and counted ten. “Are we arguing about a donor or are we arguing about my ex-girlfriend? Please let’s pick one thing.”
“There is still so much you won’t share with me.”