leaned toward him again, her face earnest and bright and willing him to understand. ‘A donor’s bio of height, weight, eye, hair colour and job doesn’t tell me personality and that’s not reassuring. You’re my best friend and I know you, warts and all. Despite your love of a party, you’re great stock with a sturdy gene pool.’
‘You make me sound like a racehorse,’ he spluttered as effrontery swirled around the ego-warming compliment that she wanted her child to have his genes.
She shot him a wry smile. ‘You’re intelligent, healthy, giving and most importantly not a psychopath. I want my child to have the smarts to deal with life.’
He spun in the chair, trying to cache his thoughts so he could separate them from the abject terror that thundered through his veins at the thought of a child. ‘I’ve spent years making sure I didn’t create a little Hamish and now you want me to do it deliberately? Aren’t you worried you might be adding another male to the world who isn’t interested in playing happy families?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I might be adding a girl or perhaps a boy like your brothers or a throwback to your dad. As a father of three sons he obviously had no concerns about being a father.’
Four sons. But he didn’t correct her because he’d never told her about Aaron. Once he’d left his home town of Jindi River to go to university, he’d never mentioned his beloved younger brother to anyone—not even Georgie. It was so much easier that way.
She unzipped her massive handbag and pulled out some printed pages bound with green tape and laid them on the table between them. ‘I’ve thought long and hard about this, Hamish, and I want to reassure you that all I want is your sperm. Not you, not your time or your money. This will be my baby.’
A niggle of concern jabbed him under his ribs. ‘And when the kid asks about his father?’
Her mouth firmed with resolve. ‘I’ll tell him or her that I used a donor.’
He studied her closely, trying to work out if her words really matched her beliefs. ‘So, you don’t even expect me to be Uncle Hamish?’
She laughed—a spurt of disbelieving sound. ‘Do you even know how to be an uncle? I’m not sure your nephews know you very well, do they?’
He tried to feel insulted but failed because she was right. No matter how much he might want to argue with her on that point, the fact was he didn’t see his five nephews very often at all. They were good kids and he sent them birthday gifts and happily enjoyed their company at Christmas, but that was enough. He was the fun uncle and if he didn’t see much of them then he couldn’t let them down like he’d let down Aaron.
He couldn’t risk having his own child and repeating past mistakes.
He tried to head off this crazy request by going straight to the heart of the matter. ‘Georgie, something like this could ruin our friendship.’
Her straight-shooting gaze hooked him, filled with honesty. ‘It won’t. Another reason I’m asking you is because I know you don’t want a child.’
He had a moment of feeling like he was fighting quicksand. ‘I don’t understand how me not wanting a child makes you ask me.’
‘You’ll leave me in peace to raise him or her alone and do things my way. This is my baby, my new-start family.’
He stared at her as if she were a stranger. Georgie had always wanted the happy-ever-after and the white picket fence so very, very much that he couldn’t believe she was abandoning it completely. ‘Are you really sure you want to do this all on your own? You always said—’
‘That’s the past.’ Her plump lips compressed as her jaw tightened. ‘I want my own family again, to feel part of something. Connected.’
The quiver in her voice socked him straight in the heart. Supporting Georgie through the funeral of her parents had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. He had relatives coming out of his ears but Georgie didn’t.
Her shoulders rose and fell. ‘Hey, I know it’s not perfect, but what in life is? The baby and I will be a team of two, and you know what? It’s okay because the flip side is that I get to make all the decisions. I have control and so there’s no risk of me and the baby being abandoned when a man decides yet again that I’m not enough for him.’
He saw the facts on her face and in the depths of her eyes matching up with her words. She was deadly serious. He knew she’d always liked to try and control things in her life and not take too many risks, but having a baby? Hell. He ran his hands through his hair. Having a baby was the biggest out-of-control step in life a person could take.
A long-ago image of Aaron on his bike and he himself screaming ‘Stop!’ rose in his head like a spectre—a haunting ghost who refused to be completely silenced. No matter how many years he’d worked as a doctor, saving lives, travelling to developing countries to help improve the lives of others, the pain of losing a brother had become as much a part of him as his own gristle and bone.
He tried to breathe but it was like trying to move his chest against circular bands of steel. He had to tell her he couldn’t do this and he would, the moment he could get the words out.
‘Haim, I realise I’ve shocked you and my request is totally out of the blue for you.’ She pushed the paperwork towards him and leaned in. ‘But for me it’s a long-held dream. A child will make my life more worthwhile and give me family again. I want a baby so badly that my arms and heart ache constantly.’
He was intimate with heartache and the throb of a faded despair that never fully went away. A baby would make him revisit a maelstrom of emotions and he refused to go there. ‘I’m sorry, Georgie … I don’t think I can help you.’
Her shoulders slumped for a moment and then her chocolate-brown eyes hooked his gaze, filled with everything they’d ever shared. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything, Hamish, and I never will again, but right now I’m asking you, my closest friend in the whole world, not to make a hasty decision, not to say yes or no. All I’m asking is that you think about it. Sleep on it and tell me tomorrow or in three days.’
‘It’s not going—’
‘It might. Time to think is always good. Please, Hamish. Take the papers, read them, write down all your questions and call me.’ She slid her hand over his, her expression filled with pleading. ‘We’ve always talked and shared everything.’
Not quite everything. He swallowed against a constricted throat. God, he hadn’t thought about Aaron in such a long time and today he was present in every sentence.
Tell her you can’t be a sperm donor. Tell her it’s an unequivocal no.
But her longing and despair swirled all around him, pulling at him in ways that made him hesitate.
‘Hamish?’
Her voice sounded small and uncertain, reminding him of the weeks after her parents had died, and he found himself saying, ‘I can’t promise you anything, George, except I’ll read the papers.’
‘Thank you.’ She rose to her feet and hugged him—her arms wrapping around him more tightly than usual.
Her
