Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

“Thank you for calling back so expediently,” she said. “I’ll be as brief as possible.”

She’d said it was important. Figured they were going to honor his brother posthumously for all of the volunteer hours he’d put in, beyond residency requirements, when the clinic had just been getting up and running. He’d let Elaina know and have her call the clinic. It was her the clinic would need to speak with.

The fourth truck pulled in. Two more and he’d be set for the day. He still hadn’t said a word. The woman just continued talking.

“I have a request for contact, and the matter is urgent...”

He’d been watching a couple of workers get out of their trucks... One punched the other on the shoulder and laughed. Brothers. Wood’s gut lurched.

“A request for contact?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

“From your sperm recipient...”

Turning away so that the parking lot was no longer in view, he shook his head. “What now?”

“Your sperm donation was used four months ago, Mr. Alexander, and fertilization was successful. The recipient is currently four months pregnant and needs to speak with you.”

His sperm. It took a few seconds for him to even figure out what she was talking about. To remember years back—when his brother had first started at the clinic. They’d needed sperm donors, and Peter had hit Wood up. Always willing to help his younger brother, to support him, Wood had been fine with the donation—not so much with the pounds of paperwork he’d had to fill out. Most particularly when it came to education and occupation.

“I quit high school when my mom died so that I could go to work and support my brother,” he said now, as much to himself as to the managing whatever she was. “No one was ever going to choose me as her donor.”

He had to make that clear. So she could find the guy she really needed. And then it occurred to him. “Unless...are you looking for Peter?” Surely she knew his brother was gone? Peter had no longer been working at the clinic—had, in fact, been out with Elaina, celebrating having just received his medical license and the practice he’d just joined, when their car had been hit head-on by a drunk driver...

Still, it seemed like everyone in Marie Cove had heard about the crash. Particularly in the medical community.

“No, we’re beyond careful with our record keeping, and the frozen sperm was most definitely that of Woodrow Alexander, not Peter. Although, I have to say, I was so incredibly sorry to hear about your brother’s death. I was at the funeral...”

Wood wouldn’t have known her from Adam. And couldn’t say half of who was there. He’d been too busy dealing with Elaina’s grief—and pain—as he’d kept a hand on her wheelchair at all times and prayed that nothing happened to her until he could deliver her safely back to the hospital, which she should never have left in the first place. His own despair... Well, Wood had handled that in private. Over time. With more than a few bottles of whiskey. Until, more than a year later, he’d thrown out the last one, half-full, and never touched the stuff again.

“I’m still having a hard time believing someone would choose a high school dropout for her sperm donor when she has doctors to choose from,” he said, bringing himself—and her—back to the present.

“Your family’s health history is excellent, you’re a tall and blue-eyed blond, and your essay was...remarkable,” Christine said.

He’d forgotten about the essay—an exposition of why he was donating sperm. Sort of remembered writing about his brother. He’d been so proud of him—like Peter had been his son, rather than just the runt that had been three years younger than him and always tagging along.

“Blue-eyed blonds are chosen more than any other combination,” Christine said softly, almost as though she knew Wood needed a minute to catch up.

“So, you’re telling me I’ve got biological kids walking around someplace?” He’d really given it little thought. Had been certain that Peter wasn’t seeing him for who he really was when he’d been certain that Wood’s sperm would be recipient-worthy.

“Not yet. It’s only been used this one time.”

Deflating before he’d even really begun to inflate, Wood tapped the steering wheel. That made more sense.

“So...who is this woman who chose a dropout over a doctor?” he asked, feeling kind of bad for the kid of such a choice maker.

“Her name is Cassie Thompson. She’s given me permission to give you her direct number. I can also have her call you, or the two of you can have a supervised meeting here at the clinic, if you’d prefer.”

There was no fourth option—opting out. That was part of what made the Parent Portal so unique, as he recalled. Donors and recipients both reserved the right to have contact with the other if ever a need or desire arose. The clinic acknowledged that sperm was more than just biology. That human needs and emotions could come to play at some point—hence the contact requirement. It was all tied up in a nice legal bundle, which had been a part of the mound of paperwork he’d been required to get through in the process of doing his little brother a favor.

“Can I ask why she wants to meet me?” He’d gone over every page of the contract he’d signed. Understood every word before he’d signed it. And then promptly dismissed the details as irrelevant.

“That’s for her to disclose.” Christine sounded more formal now. “I can only tell you that it’s a matter of some urgency.”

“You’re sure she’s pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“And that the baby is mine.”