The Baby Maker’s Club

“Nothing, I’m just hungover,” I lie. One Long Island iced tea gave me a decent buzz, but nothing to ruin me the next day. Chaucer did that on his own. I’m still kicking myself for not saying something to him. In a setting like that I could’ve gotten to know him and ask him about his past without breaking the rules of the club. Now I will probably never see him again. I’ve avoided all calls from Mosaic and they stopped billing my credit card for the payments, so I’m certain I’ve closed that door for good.

“I have something that will make you feel so much better,” she says.

“What?”

“Well, there seems to be some hot guy in the doorway staring right at you. I think you might have an admirer,” she says, looking across our office space toward the entrance.

I follow her gaze across the long stretch of desks that sit in rows in the big room. When I see who is standing in the doorway, I almost fall out my chair as I scramble to my feet. Chaucer stands there with his hands tucked in his pockets. He smiles and I lose my mind. How is he here? Is this a dream, something I’ve conjured out of my own mind from wishful thinking? Or maybe a symptom of low blood sugar since I haven’t eaten anything but ice cream in the last two days.

“I’ll be right back,” I say absently to Megan as I head toward him. She’s talking—I think she’s asking if I know him—but I don’t hear a word she says except for the tail end.

“Take your time with that one,” she says with a teasing lilt in her voice.

When I’m right in front of him, I realize just how tall he is. He towers over me. Hard to tell when we were horizontal on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

I lead him to the gardens outside where the smokers used to go on their breaks before smoking was banned near the building. We can be alone here. I’m giddy as I walk, but trying to remain calm—or at least make him think I’m calm, when really I’m screaming inside. I still can’t believe he’s here.

There’s a granite bench near the rose bushes. It smells amazing out here, but nothing compared to him. I wonder if he would think I’m weird if I leaned over and gave him a good sniff. I want to bring back those memories of us together, and scent is the best way to preserve a memory.

I sit on the bench. Chaucer sits next to me. Close enough for our legs to touch even though there is plenty of room on the bench for two more people to sit. I want to lean into him, touch him the way I had when we were alone in that room. But then I remember the accusations against him, and I’m torn.

“I saw you at the bar last night,” he says with an eyebrow raised.

My entire body floods with heat, and I know from experience that my face and neck are bright red. That always happens when I’m embarrassed.

“Why did you hide from me?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t ready to see you outside of the club.”

He looks down, the mischief draining from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t want to see me. I shouldn’t have come.” He starts to stand, but I grab his arm, desperately.

“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t want to break the rules of the club, and I wasn’t sure how the rules applied to a situation when you run into the person outside of the club.”

He falls silent and I use that moment to ask, “How did you find me?”

It’s his turn to look embarrassed. “Turns out I’m not very good with rules. I paid the bartender to give me your name after he closed out your tab.”

“You were still there?”

“I was. I watched you leave the bathroom and go to the bar.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You clearly didn’t want to talk to me, so I didn’t want to force myself on you.”

“Then why are you here?”

He hesitates. “Because I can’t stay away from you any longer. I need to know what happened. What did I do wrong? Why wouldn’t you make more appointments with me?”

I look down at my hands. They’re starting to sweat. “I broke the rules too. That first night we were together, I was folding your clothes and your wallet fell out. I saw your name on your ID. After our last appointment, I couldn’t help myself. I looked you up online.”

His face goes very pale. His Adam’s apple dips in his throat when he swallows.

When he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I wasn’t sure if you were dangerous to have in my life, or if your past would lead back to a child you fathered later on.”