What Ryann told CJ in the kitchen was heavy as hell, but I didn’t address it as we trekked across the sand. While the unstable, uneven terrain of sand offered a more strenuous workout that engaged the glutes, the quadriceps, and the calf muscles, it also offered less support than solid ground. It could cause minor injuries if you stepped wrong. I spent my time concentrating. I didn’t need to be out of commission for a week because I decided to take a walk on the beach.
Ryann and I walked in silence for about twenty-five minutes. The only sounds were the squawking of the birds, the crashing of waves, and the whipping of the light wind. The sun hadn’tcompletely risen quite yet, making the temperature comfortable and the air moderately crisp. I could feel the little bit of lingering tension from life slowly dissipate.
Not far from the house, Ryann finally spoke. “Can we sit for a few minutes, Brix?”
Before I could respond, she had stopped walking and was pulling the backpack she was wearing around to the front of herself. She unzipped the bag, revealing a small, thin piece of cloth that I presumed was a blanket.
I watched her drape it on the sand before dropping to her knees. Then she pulled two bottles of water and two sandwich bags filled with grapes from the backpack.
“You came prepared,” I commented before arranging myself next to her on the small blanket. “When did you do all that?”
“While you were stretching on the back deck.”
“Listen, full transparency moment… I can’t stand sand. So, I’mma do my best to keep my entire body on this little bitty ass blanket. If you feel like I’m invading your personal space, just roll with it. It’s a sensory and textural thing.”
She gave a laugh, throwing her head back in the process. In that moment, she looked like the carefree, life-loving woman I’d always known her to be. Not the person who had been showing up for the last few months. “You can sit as close to me as you want.”
I cracked open the bottle of water and guzzled about half of it before speaking my mind. “Why’ve you been so sad lately, Ry? I feel like every time I’ve seen you since around this same time last year, you’ve had a dark cloud hanging over your head. Talk to me. What’s up?”
It was shaping up to be a beautiful day with promises of lots of sun and warm temperatures. At this hour, while the sky was still slowly shifting from its dark hue, the sun was just waiting for a word from God that it was her time to shine. The wavesprovided a rhythmic soundtrack, while the wind blew lightly around us, bathing us in the briny aroma of the Caribbean Sea. I loved island living. It made me wonder why I hadn’t bought a property on Iredia.
Ryann stared out at the water for a moment or two. I wasn’t in a hurry. I was busy thinking about making contact with a realtor to view some properties. I could wait her out. I needed to know what was weighing so heavily on her. I didn’t like the thought of something stressing her the way she was obviously stressing.
Finally she broke the silence. “I got some messed up news right before the start of the season last year.” The next set of words to leave her mouth came out in a stream with no pauses or breaks in between them. “Something is going on with my fertility. I may or may not be able to have children.”
That information was a gut-punch, because a few years earlier, we had all watched my sister and CJ struggle to conceive.
“Shit!” I commiserated. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ry. That’s fucked up. Do the doctors know what’s going on with you?”
Her eyes were back on the horizon. “They do, but there’s not anything they can do about it. My condition is rare and irreversible. My best option for becoming a mother naturally was to get pregnant five years ago… or maybe by tomorrow.”
“So, is IVF an option, or no?” I knew a lot about fertility treatments from having a front row seat to Genesis and CJ’s journey. I was sure that Ryann did, too.
She huffed out a heavy sigh. “It is, but typically you would need somebody to provide the other half of the DNA—the sperm. I’m single and I’m not really all that enthused about using stranger sperm. I’ve done some research. Canvassed a few donor websites, the quality of sperm from black men is minimal. I’m not at the point that I’ve accepted the thought of using sperm from a white donor. I don’t know.”
“You’ve been researching sperm?”
That question made her crack a small smile. “Not sperm,” she admitted, then released a genuine chuckle, “but sperm donors. What I’ve seen so far has been really depressing. I had to put the research on pause for a minute. Right now, I’m in mysit in the dark and play sad songsera. I’m mourning my reality.”
“Have you talked to your family? Does CJ know?”
She nodded, taking a drink from her water bottle. “I told my family right after All-Star break. Zyah keeps offering up Amari’s sperm, but somehow, he doesn’t seem like the best candidate.”
We both chuckled, before she cut her eyes at me.
“What?”
“After looking at the options on the website, Genesis offered to speak to you and Beaux.”
I cracked up. “Yo, she might’ve spoken to Beaux, but she never mentioned it to me.” Once my laughter subsided, I spoke again. “But if all you need is sperm, you can have some of mine. I ain’t using it for shit.” I wasn’t sure why I said that. I mean, it was true. I wasn’t looking to build with anybody, but I wasn’t sure why I had offered up my sperm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She turned her entire body on the teensy weensy blanket to look at me. I let her bore a hole in the side of my face for a few seconds before I turned to face her. “What?”
“What do you mean, I can have your sperm? That you aren’t using it? What does that even mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” I cleared my throat roughly to buy myself some time. “I’m in mystrictly fucking for release and enjoymentera. After going through what I went through with Adrianna, I don’t know if having a family is in the cards for me. I don’t know if there's a woman out there that I could trust enough or take seriously enough to consider building with. The only way I get to fatherhood might be through a situation likethis. So, once you’ve taken the time to process the ramifications of your condition, let me know if you want me to…” My thoughts trailed off.
“Wouldn’t that be weird, though? I mean, we share a niece and nephews. Our siblings are married.”
