A Xmas Gift: The Sperm Donor (6 page)

Abby looks nonplussed.

“And what have you come all the way to London for, Elise?”

“I’m on vacation. I’ve never been to London, and so . . . ” Elise darts a glance at Justin, who imperceptibly nods.

“Were you in touch with Justin all these years?” Abby’s tone is pleasant enough, but there’s an unmistakable thread of interrogation in her voice.

The starters arrive, giving them a much needed diversion. Elise snares an escargot with difficulty, using the specialized tongs. She almost drops it as she tries to dig into it with a fork. Her lack of finesse is duly noted by Abby.

“No,” Elise says, finally managing to spear the soft body of the snail, which is smothered in garlic and butter sauce.

“Then how did you manage to find him?”

“‘Linked in’,” Justin says quickly. He is having a prawn salad for a starter, but he has barely touched it. “I’m on ‘Linked in’, and so is she.”

“Are you married, Elise?”

Elise pauses, and Justin gives her a warning glance.
Careful, she’s sizing you up as the competition.

“Divorced,” she says. “But I have a boyfriend back home.”

“Ah,” Abby says in between bites. “What does he do?”

“He works in my company,” Elise says, waving her fork around. The escargot almost goes flying. “In fact, he’s my boss.”

Justin raises an eyebrow. Elise has to stifle her laughter. She has never told Justin whether or not she’s seeing anyone – her very request of his sperm donation negates that. He simply assumes she isn’t, or she wouldn’t be here. And she’s not, but it’s nice to cook up a story for Justin’s psycho girlfriend.

“Your boss?” he says pointedly.

“Yeah. Oh, I didn’t tell you?”

“You just told me you and he were working together.”

This is taking a whole new different direction. Elise begins to relax. In fact, she’s enjoying herself.

“Yes, I’ve been seeing him for the past six months. It’s the worst-kept secret in the company. He’s short, just about five seven, but that never stopped Tom Cruise from being a stud. He’s brilliant, and he wears the most amazing designer glasses. But oooh,” Elise closes her eyes, “he’s incredible in bed.”

Yeah, like every imaginary lover is.

Abby is piqued even as Justin grimaces.

“Spare us the details,” he rasps.

“No, no, I want to know.” Abby leans over. “So . . . comparatively speaking, is he better in bed than Justin?”

“Abby!”

“I can’t answer that,” Elise says demurely. “Over the years, techniques change, you know, and an old dog learns new tricks.”

Justin rolls his eyes. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

Abby says, “I can tell you how I met Justin.” She seems happier now that Elise has revealed her (non-existent) boyfriend.

“Pray tell.”

Justin busies himself with his entrée of codfish, which has just arrived. He looks like someone who has had the waiter dump a bowl of Tabasco sauce all over his dinner. Elise suspects he’s keeping mum because he wants Abby to have some sort of reassurance that she is not a threat. But Elise knows women like Abby. As insecure as Abby is,
everyone
– including all her friends and every woman in Justin’s workplace – is a potential threat.

Abby says with a gleam in her eye, “My father has this annual bash for the office. I don’t usually attend, but I was bored that weekend, and I had nothing else better to do. So I went, and I heard all the women there whispering about this gorgeous new guy who has just been headhunted from America. I had to see what the fuss was all about.”

Justin seems to want to dive under the table.

“He was surrounded by a gaggle of office women and quite a few men. And then Daddy came up and took me by the arm. ‘Baby,’ he says, ‘have you met my newest human resource acquisition?’ The crowd parted, and there was Justin. He was wearing a tux, and he was simply stunning. He took my breath away.”

Elise laughs at Justin’s discomfiture. “Yes, he does that. At any age.”

“I knew I had to see him again, of course. So the next day I went to his office and asked him out.”

Elise leans over, interested. “And did he say yes?”

“He said it was a conflict of interest because my father is his boss and yadda yadda.” Abby waves a diffident hand. “But I spoke to Daddy that night, and he was OK with it. He said he’d assure Justin that it would be OK if we dated.”

“Yeah, right,” Justin deadpans. “He took me aside and told me if I didn’t take you out, my job and future promotions would be on the line.”

“No kidding,” Elise exclaims.

Abby mock punches Justin in the arm. “Daddy did not say that.”

For answer, Justin makes a funny face.

Oh yeah
, Elise thinks,
Daddy did threaten Justin
.

“So here we are,” Abby says happily, reaching for Justin’s hand, which he uneasily gives her. She squeezes it. “Blissful and in love. Never a dull moment, I say. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Justin gives her a quick grin.

He’s dying here, Elise decides.

“You wouldn’t believe the women I’ve had to contend with over him,” Abby says, her tone suddenly turning serious. “Some of them were all over him in the office, but once I established pecking order, none of them would dare touch him with a ten-foot pole.”

“Abby,” Justin says warningly, “it’s inappropriate to say that. Especially when it’s not true.”

“It is true, darling, and you know it.” Abby turns to Elise.

The signal is unmistakable. He’s mine, and I’ve staked my claim. You can look all you want, but don’t touch.

I don’t want him, Elise wants to tell her, but in her heart of hearts, she knows that is not true either.

10

Justin sits beside Elise in the full clinic. Across and beside them – on sofas and chairs – are various couples of all races and ages. OK, most of them are in their thirties. He can almost see the hope and desperation on their faces. Although crowded, there’s a palpable lack of conversation in the waiting room. Everyone is expectant. Everyone is nervous.

To be honest, he’s feeling a little anxious himself. He has never done this before. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

Elise squeezes his hand. She has made them a four o’ clock appointment because it’s the only time on Monday he could get off, but it’s already well past that.

“You sure you’re ovulating?” he whispers.

She nods. “I checked my temperature this morning, and the nurse confirmed it with a hormone blood test.”

“Great,” he says glumly.

“Your enthusiasm is staggering.”

“I’m scared of doctors.”

“There’s no doctor here. There’s just you . . . and lube.” She smiles mischievously.

He groans. “I don’t remember the last time I jacked off.”

“That’s because you keep getting laid the normal way.”

The other couples observe their banter, unable to hear anything that is going on, but envying this young couple their beauty, robustness and obvious camaraderie. Everyone assumes they are married, of course.

“I thought the other night went well,” Justin remarks.

“Yeah.” Elise doesn’t want to burst his bubble. She doesn’t want to tell him that later, in the powder room, Abigail Morton came in when she was reapplying her lipstick.

She eyed Elise in the mirror.

“If you try to make any move on him, I’ll kill you myself,” she warned.

Elise took one look at Abby’s pale, determined face, and shuddered inwardly. She isn’t afraid of Abby, but she’s afraid of what Abby might do to Justin.

Elise clasps Justin’s arm.

“What is it?” he murmurs. “Nervous?”

“Justin, are you sure you’re happy?”

“I’m as happy as anyone can be. Why?” He eyes her shrewdly. “You’re talking about Abby again, aren’t you?”

“It’s just that she seems so possessive.”

“Abby loves me, Elise,” he chides.
Certainly more than you did . . . twelve years ago.
And it’s a sad fact, he realizes.

Abby needs him. Elise didn’t. If she did, she would never have let him go.

Elise says, “I know. But love doesn’t have to extend to keeping a noose around your neck.”

Justin doesn’t say a word. Elise is right on all counts. But his relationship with Abby is more complex than that. He has gotten comfortable with it, and he never sought to question it.

Until now.

A black nurse strides out from a doorway of the clinic.

“Mr. Morgan?” she calls in a voice that makes Justin jump. Did she have to say his name quite so loudly?

“Here!” Elise waves.

Gawd, with all those people watching him, he feels smaller and smaller. He’s dying to sink his head into his sweater.

The nurse comes to stand in front of him with a clipboard. “Mr. Morgan, this way please. And are you Mrs. Morgan?”

“No, we’re not married,” Elise broadcasts.

Everyone in the clinic looks up. Justin groans.

“Just wait here, Miss.” The nurse jerks a thumb towards the doorway. “Follow me, Mr. Morgan.”

Justin gets up and Elise with him. Before he can go, she surprises him by grabbing his shoulders and hugging him.

“For good luck,” she says against his cheek.

“Thanks.” He hugs her warmly back. He loves her scent. Some sort of jasmine that isn’t overpowering.

She lets him go, flushing a little.

“Well, see you soon,” she says.

“See you.”

Feeling self-conscious, he walks with as much dignity as he can after the nurse, aware that every eye is upon him – male and female. Behind him, Elise gives the two thumbs up sign. The nurse leads him into the room, which is an ordinary clinic with an examination couch, an armchair and medical paraphernalia. Porno magazines are scattered on a table in front of him.

The nurse hands him a plastic specimen tub. “Dump it in here, Mr. Morgan.”

He takes it, suddenly aghast. “I have to fill this up?”

“Of course not. Though a healthy amount of semen would multiply your chances of getting your lady friend knocked up.” She picks up a tube. “Here’s some lube in case you need it, and a box of tissues for you to wipe up after.”

She walks to the door and winks.

“Don’t take too long, Mr. Morgan. We have a very full clinic today. Lots of fathers-to-be waiting for you to finish.”

God. Now he feels like a performing monkey.

The nurse closes the door behind her. Click. Mounted on the wall is a clock going tick-tick-tick.

Shit.

He’s being timed.

*

Justin hasn’t masturbated in years. He never had the need to. Abby is insatiable in bed, never seeming to have enough of him.

He would begin their lovemaking session with hot and heavy kissing – very French with lots of tongue. Then they would both progress to plenty of oral loving, as Abby calls it. Abby loves to slather her tongue all over his cock – up, down, everywhere. Going ‘elevator’, she calls it. Licking his rod with butterfly flicks as she massages his balls with her palms.

He’s getting hard just thinking about it.

He has taken off his jacket and undone the two top buttons of his shirt. His fly is open, and his now erect penis strains against his briefs. He slips his rock hard organ out and starts to stroke it. He closes his eyes.

Don’t need a dirty magazine.

Abby.

He pictures her closed eyes, her head thrown back, her blonde hair a spill against the white of his pillow. Her mouth slightly opened as she savors his thrusting.

Oh Justin, you’re so amazing. You fuck so well and hard.

And somehow, superimposed upon Abby’s ecstatic features, Elise’s beatific face from a past life intrudes upon his perfect fantasy. Although he is mildly disturbed, he doesn’t push it out of his mind. He wants to see where his subconscious would lead him.

Elise.

They were both twenty years old. It was her birthday, and they were at her parents’ summer home in Florida, perched by the swamps. They were out at the old boathouse. It was twilight, and her parents were getting dinner ready. Or at least, her mother was. Her father was chain-smoking a pack of Marlboros on the porch.

Justin grinned at her. “Can your Dad see us from where he is?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Go make sure.”

She scampered in the dark boathouse to the rickety wooden door. She peeked out.

“Nah,” she said, coming back.

“Good.” He bobbed on one of the boats, tied to a post by a rope. “I was thinking of taking this out. Want to join me?”

She smiled impishly. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

He was glad she couldn’t see his grin in the half-darkness.