Playboy Pilot

I nodded. “Maybe.”

Carter looked up at the sky for a while and then started to speak quietly. “I was sixteen when I met Lucy Langella. She had long black hair, big blue eyes, and wrote poetry. We were together for more than two years. She was my first, and for a long time, I really thought she would be my last. Thought I was in love. Told her I loved her even.

During our senior year in high school, she started to change. She never wanted to go out, and she slept a lot. It was senior year—parties, friends, sports, road trips—I wanted to do it all. For a while I could get her to do things with me, but it became harder and harder as the months went on. She started to have some crazy mood swings, too. It got to the point where I had no idea what Lucy I was going to get when I went to her house. So I slowed up on going to her house. Basically, I was eighteen and thought she was becoming boring. She had been a better student than me, and when we first started dating we had talked about both applying to the University of Michigan. When the time came to send out college applications, she didn’t even send any. By the time we graduated, she rarely went out, and being around her was a total downer.

The summer before college started, I knew I had to break it off before I moved three hours away for school. When I did it, she cried for a week. I felt like shit because all she kept saying was, ‘You told me you loved me. You told me you loved me.’”

Carter stopped talking for a minute. Then he cleared his throat and continued. “My first day of college, I’d just finished classes and brought a girl I’d met at orientation back to my dorm room. We ended up in my bed, and my cell phone kept ringing while I was screwing a girl I’d just met. Thought college was the greatest thing in the world that day.” He scoffed and shook his head. “The next morning, I looked at my phone and saw that all the calls had been from Lucy. I didn’t call her back. Another day passed, and I was in bed with my new girl when it started happening again. My phone was ringing over and over. But when the name flashed on my screen, I noticed it was my mother. I knew if she called that many times, something had to be wrong. So I picked it up. She was hysterically crying.” Carter stopped again, staring down at our entwined ankles in the sand. “Lucy had committed suicide. What I thought was boring was clinically depressed.”

I gasped. “Oh my God, Carter. You couldn’t have known.”

“Anyway. Today you asked me what the significance of the song I sing every time I take off is. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I’m singing the Beatles to my dead ex-girlfriend every time I start to fly into the sky. And you think you’re the one who’s fucked up?”

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible that you went through that.”

“Thank you. But I didn’t tell you this story so you would have sympathy for me. It’s your turn, Perky. I bet it will make you feel better to share whatever it is that’s been bothering you. Plus, I want to hear how my beautiful girl got so screwed up that she’s traveling to foreign countries with the likes of me.”

“You won’t look at me differently after I tell you?” Even though we had less than twelve hours left, the thought upset me.

“Not a chance.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and started at the beginning. “My grandfather, Rutherford Sparks, was a very rich man. He was also domineering, eccentric, racist, homophobic, and controlling. And very much a chauvinist. Lucky for him, he had two sons and no daughters. But the first son died at age four of pneumonia. The second was my father who is Rutherford Sparks the Third. I should note that Rutherford Sparks, Jr., was my father’s older brother who died before he was born.

My dad died five years ago of a heart attack. So my grandfather basically buried his two children, both his namesakes. Even though I was only nineteen when my father passed, my grandfather began pushing me to have a child. He literally started harping on me at my dad’s funeral, demanding that I have a child as soon as possible—a boy, of course—so that he could be sure that his precious name lived on. I had no interest in having a child, so I kept ignoring him, even though he basically funded my lavish lifestyle since the day I was born.

Anyway, without boring you with all the details, my grandfather died two years ago. I have a trust fund that pays for all of my living expenses, but that cuts off when I reach the ripe old age of twenty-five. There’s a second trust fund, one that is worth millions of dollars, that was also left to me. However, my grandfather put a little condition on that one. In order for me to receive the funds, I am required to have a male child by the time I turn twenty-six. Oh…and the child must be named Rutherford Sparks.”

“Is that shit even legal?”

“Apparently so. I had my lawyers look into it. Restrictions on trusts are common. The only time a court will strike the restriction is if it’s illegal or against public policy.”

“Isn’t forcing someone to have a baby against public policy?”

“Apparently not.”

“So, you’re thinking about having a baby and that’s why you took this trip?”

“Actually…this is the part that wins me the contest for being the most fucked-up. I figured out a small loophole in my grandfather’s will. I have to give birth to a male heir, but I don’t have to keep the child. Most normal people would assume that it’s implied that when you intentionally have a child, you keep it. I’m not ready to have a child. But there are plenty of gay couples who are ready to have children and can’t. So I have an appointment in nine days with a married gay couple in Germany. I would be inseminated with the sperm from both men that is genetically modified to ensure that I had a boy. After I gave birth, little Rutherford Sparks would be theirs. Foreign countries are less restrictive with genetic modification of pre-implanted embryos. That’s why I’m doing it outside of the United States.”

Carter shook his head up and down a few times and grinned. “Shit. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but it’s a close one. I’m not sure who wins the contest.”

Oddly, as much as I was disgusted with myself and ashamed of what I was considering doing, I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders by telling Carter. He didn’t seem to judge me at all either. He was just staring out at the water.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

He laughed. “If I tell you, I might slant the contest in my favor.”

“Tell me.”

“I was picturing you pregnant and thinking you’re going to look fucking hot with a big belly and swollen tits.”

“You would.”

The two of us cracked up for a while after that. Even Carter seemed a little lighter after our conversation.

“Alright. Anything else I should know about you, Sparks?”

“I divulged one thing. You divulged one thing. We’re even, Captain.”