Getting Her Back

She promises to meet me there.

18

The process of narrowing down a sperm donor is both difficult and weird. But thanks to Ellen we laugh a lot. She created voices for each of the guys and read me the profiles as if they were auditioning. It’s just what I needed, given the last week. It took hours and more than one bottle of wine—definitely a final hurrah—but we eventually got it narrowed down to five.

I have some time so I’m letting my brain settle. I’m going to look at those five again on Monday and see if one of them stands out to me. But right now, it’s time for a party. It’s Friday and I’m driving out to Long Island for Celia’s surprise party. I actually think it’s going to be a surprise, too. She hasn’t given me any indication that she knows the party is for her. The last few days haven’t been easy. Every time I miss another meeting with Christian, he reaches out and asks me if I’m all right.

I’m not.

I’m hurt. Angry. Devastated. And I’m feeling everything more because there’s a part of me that is saying that I shouldn’t be feeling these things. That I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to see him again. But that doesn’t heal the hurt, or change the fact that every time he texts and calls I want to go back. But I can’t.

When I pull up outside my parents’ house, everything looks suspiciously normal. Which is good. The inside of the house looks normal too, even though it’s empty. But the back yard…holy shit. My mother has out done herself. If I didn’t know that we were in the middle of Long Island I would say we were in a castle somewhere in Europe. There are decorative castle turrets and towers erected around the edges of the yard, with a moat—an actual goddamn moat—that you cross on a little bridge from the house. There are medieval banners hanging from the fake walls, and a long table in the middle of the yard that’s piled with food. It looks like a feast from a historical painting. Candles and torches are everywhere, and I imagine that the whole yard will glow with them after dark.

There are a few people here, but not many yet. It’s early. People are arriving in the next hour and then we get ready for Celia. My mother spots me and waves me over. “Wow, Mom,” I say as she pulls me into a hug. “You really went for it.”

“You think it’s good?” I can tell that she’s really asking.

“Yes!” I shake my head, unable to stop looking around. “I can’t believe you put this together in two weeks.”

She blushes lightly. “It was fun. The banners are her school colors and a stylized version of their mascot.”

“This is insane,” I say.

“Good. We could all use a little insanity from time to time.”

I laugh, but it’s not real. I, for one, could stand to have a lot less insanity in my life right now. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Come with me.” She leads me to a picnic table that’s tucked out of site behind a corner of the house, and hands me a piece of paper. “These are supposed to be neat.” The paper holds instructions for folding napkins into a striking bird. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to finish them all in time.”

“Sure,” I say. I’m good at napkin folding. Over the years my mother has thrown countless parties, and uniquely shaped napkins have always been a staple. I sit and read over the instructions before attempting the first one. My mom hovers by the table for a second. “Are you all right?”

I look up, and she’s staring at me with unusual intensity. “Yeah, Mom. I’m fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be back to help in a few minutes.” She disappears back around the corner, and I sigh. I’m not fine, but she also wouldn’t be okay with that if she knew why. It’s okay. I’ll get through it eventually. I did it last time and I can do it this time. I concentrate on folding the napkins. The design is pretty, and luckily not that hard to complete. I have a decent stack of them by the time she comes back. “You’re making progress!”

“Yeah,” I say. “This isn’t the most complicated design you’ve made me do.” I make an amused face so she knows that I’m kidding.

She sits down across from me. “Are you sure you’re okay, Audrey? You seem down.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. Today’s not about that.”

“Is it the clinic? Because it can take time.”

I feel like I’m being hit in the chest. “I—”

“If one sperm donor isn’t working, make them give you another one. Those places have gallons of genius level sperm waiting to be used. Don’t worry,” she says with a smile, “you’ll have a baby soon.”