“The therapist I saw specializes in couples who live alternative lifestyles. She was familiar with our dynamic and hinted at having personal experience. She explained that we’d raise a child like any vanilla couple. Certain kinks we’d keep from them until they were old enough to understand. Or we’d never share them. She was adamant about parents not only being allowed to have their own secrets, but that they should in order to keep their relationship with their partner, or partners, alive. She even shared that she’d worked with parents in the BDSM world who identified as Littles and who had learned how to parent successfully while carving out time to have their needs met as well.”
I was enthralled by the information. “She made good points. And the fact that you have her support moving forward is awesome. Would she do couples counseling?”
“Yes,” Belle said. “If we do this, you’d have to be willing to go therapy with me.”
“Shit, yes,” Gabby said. “I’m just happy that we’re together again.” She stopped and withdrew from Belle. “You are coming back home?”
Belle grinned. “My stuff’s in the car. But now it’s up to you, Ethan.”
Gabby and Belle looked at each other and then at me. They remained seemingly unblinking. I stared them down. “If I decide, I want guarantees. I can’t imagine being responsible for bringing a child into the world and not falling in love immediately and wanting to be a part of their life.”
“Of course,” they said simultaneously.
“But…” I said, holding my hand up. “I want the choice at the time of the birth. I’m still going to therapy for my own shit. And now, as you know Gabby, I’m seeing Jude.”
“Jude?” Belle piped up, her head darting between me and Gabby.
Gabby patted her hand. “Later. Let’s not get off track.”
“Right,” Belle agreed and turned back to me. “Are there any other guarantees, Ethan?”
“I spoke to a family attorney who said that sperm donors typically sign a legal agreement relinquishing all parental rights. He also said that each case is different, depending on the circumstances. Since I’m not a stranger but feel like part of the family, I asked him if he’d be willing to create a legal agreement that states in the event something happens to both of you, full custody is transferred to me. If for any reason, one of you leaves, I want to pay child support as if the child was legally mine. In that way, the financial responsibility is split.”
Belle’s forehead crinkled in concern. “And the attorney agreed your demands are legally doable? He’d set something up?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “As long as all parties sign with two witnesses present.”
Belle looked to her wife. “Does all that sound reasonable to you?”
“Yes,” Gabby said, and kissed Belle on the temple. “What about you?”
Belle kissed her back in reply, letting her lips linger a few moments.
I cleared my throat. “Since I’m guessing you’d like to spend some time together getting reacquainted, I’ll head out. About the baby, now that I’ve seen you together again, I’ll take tonight and tomorrow to decide if I’m in one hundred percent.” I looked pointedly at Gabby. “Since you’ll be the one carrying the infant in your belly for nine months, you make sure, too.”
When I stood, Gabby did too and came around to hug me. “Thank you, Ethan. I’m so glad Artemis Drakos hired you. Because then you met my dad and instantly became part of our family.”
I gave her an eye roll. “He pitied me.”
Gabby poked me in the chest. “He saw good in you and maybe a little pity. But Mamma just fell in love with you.”
“I understand her dialect,” I said teasingly. But deep down I knew that Frank and Mamma really did care about me. And they’d been thrilled that I was considering becoming the sperm donor.
I left a minute later and laughed softly when I heard Gabby say to Belle, “Bedroom. Now.”
I headed back to my apartment and changed into bathing trunks and a tank top, tied on running shoes, then jogged down to the running path along the ocean. The only thing I didn’t like about Long Beach was the multitude of offshore platforms used for oil and gas production, with an average of twenty container ships at berth daily in addition to a significant number anchored, waiting their turn to come into port.
But as I took off at an easy run, I was grateful for the ocean at my fingertips despite the commercialism surrounding me. All I had to do was drive south to the coastal towns of Dana Point and San Clemente, with waves that were a surfer’s dream. I wondered what it would be like to be pushing a jogging stroller as I pointed out a pod of dolphins to a son or daughter. Or as they got older, would they be interested in running alongside me?
I hadn’t given much thought to ever having children until I had a husband, but then Belle and Gabby started talking about it last year. Once they’d engaged me in the conversation about becoming a sperm donor, the idea of being Uncle Ethan to the baby both scared and excited me. I wondered if Jude left the priesthood if he’d want to have children. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t see him for six days. Well actually, I’d see him tomorrow at Mass but wouldn’t be able to talk to him.
I finished my five-mile run, took a long shower, had an early dinner, then watched TV until I fell asleep on the sofa, not remembering one thing about the rom-com that was on the screen. Upon waking the next morning, the first thing I surprisingly thought about was not Jude. I ignored my hard-on and closed my eyes again as images of a little girl with bouncing curls opened the door and dove on the bed to hug her Uncle Ethan. But did I want only to babysit my daughter? And would she rather call meBabbo, meaning dad in the southern regions of Italy?
Jude interrupted my thoughts as I envisioned the beautiful man in bed with me while my daughter bounced up and down on Jude’s stomach. Then I’d cradle her and Jude would throw his arms around us both and…and nothing, idiot! I broke from the daydream, not wanting to get ahead of myself with Jude. If we ever went on a date, we might discover we don’t even like eachother. More importantly, I had to own up to my limitations in the bedroom if things progressed between him and me.
Nevertheless, no matter how much I ordered myself not to dwell on a future with a boyfriend and kids, I dozed off with those exact images behind my eyelids. To my dismay, the fantasies hadn’t lasted and instead, I’d tossed and tangled with the sheets as I questioned my ability to be a good dad, or even an uncle, when I hadn’t had any role models.
My parents had never abused me physically but they’d hurt me emotionally by doling out love in small, measured portions. And then my dad stopped taking an interest in me altogether when I’d obtained a degree in automotive engineering rather than pursuing an erudite major in advanced trigonometry or something. My mother had been equally disappointed.
