Father By Choice. M.J. Rodgers

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      “I figured if she was stupid enough to have some stranger’s kid, she should at least be sure she was getting good sperm. I mean, what would you have done if she were your sister?”

      There was a protective note in Ed’s tone Brad had never heard before. They rarely talked about the personal stuff, which was why Brad hadn’t even known the name of Ed’s sister before today. Emily was clearly very special to him.

      Brad found his anger at his friend beginning to fade. “I’ve never had a sister.”

      “Count your blessings. They’re a damn pain. You love them, and all you want is the best for them. But what happens when you try to help? They tell you to butt out of their business.”

      “You should have listened to her this time.”

      “I couldn’t. She was going to the wrong place. The Crispin Fertility Clinic is the only one that does a thorough background check on its donors to be sure that they are who they claim. I told Emily about Jill Crispin alerting us when she discovered that a guy using a phony name and profession had applied. He turned out to be an ex-con with two outstanding warrants. That con had gotten away with donating sperm to every other damn clinic around because they never checked up on his lies. Who knows how many more there are like him around?”

      “Wasn’t steering her to the right fertility clinic enough?” Brad asked. “Did you have to tell her about me?”

      “Yeah, I did. You should have seen the flakes she had to pick from even at Crispin. I read the questionnaires these guys filled out. Eighty percent of them were dumb college jocks, barely literate, just looking for some extra cash. The idea that Emily’s genes would be mixing with theirs made me want to puke.”

      “What about the other twenty percent?”

      “I suppose some of them were decent, if you could believe what they wrote. The Crispin Clinic is careful that their donors are physically healthy and legally who they say they are. But they have no way of knowing whether these guys are telling the truth when they answer questions about their goals in life and such.”

      Brad had to admit that was true. He could have lied about those things when he filled out the forms, and no one would have been the wiser.

      “But when I tried to impress this fact on Emily, she turned a deaf ear,” Ed continued. “Kept telling me she’d decide who was best. Said she didn’t need me to make her decisions for her.”

      “Then why did she take your recommendation on me?”

      “I wasn’t sure she had. She wanted the best and I wanted the best for her, so naturally I told her all about you so she’d know which one of the anonymous donor questionnaires was yours. But the only thing she said was that if she picked your sperm, I was never going to know and neither were you.”

      “I know,” Brad said. “She quoted what I entered on that damn questionnaire verbatim. And when I called her on it, she did the one thing she knew would make me back off.”

      “What was that?”

      “She pretended to be psychic.”

      “How could she know that would make you back off?”

      “Because I put it on the questionnaire. When asked what was the one thing that would make me avoid otherwise nice and pleasant people, I said it would be if they turned out to be superstitious or believed in all that psychic mumbo jumbo.”

      “Brad, I’m sorry about this. She warned me to say nothing to you. I admit I wanted her to select you for her sake, but I never intended for you to find out.”

      “I wish to hell I hadn’t,” Brad said on a long exhale. “What does her husband think about all this?”

      “Husband? Emily’s not married.”

      “But she shows Barrett as her married name. I thought—”

      “Oh, she was married. Just not anymore. Hell, she doesn’t even date now.”

      Brad stopped walking, grabbed his friend’s arm, halting him in his stride. “Are you telling me your sister is planning to raise the baby without a father?”

      “She’ll be a good mother,” Ed said. “I’m not just saying that because she’s my sister. Emily’s wanted a kid for years, but things…didn’t work out for her. She’s thrilled to be having this baby.”

      Brad released his friend’s arm and sank to the edge of a nearby concrete street planter, putting his head in his hands. This was getting worse by the minute.

      “What’s wrong?”

      He raised his eyes at the concern in Ed’s voice. “My brother and I never had a dad. He took off when we were young, and we never saw or heard from him again. I had a great mother. The best. It’s not enough. A kid needs a father. I always swore my kid would have one.”

      “Brad, legally, the child Emily’s going to have…it’s not your kid.”

      He didn’t need Ed to tell him that. Brad was only too aware that he’d signed away all legal rights to his sperm.

      Yes, the money he’d received had helped to pay down his school loans. But the real reason he’d involved himself in the process was because he believed he was doing the right thing helping an infertile couple conceive.

      He never imagined that he’d find out who got his sperm. Or that she’d be a single woman.

      “What a goddamn mess,” he muttered to the night sky.

      Ed plopped down beside him. “If you want to shoot me, I’ll loan you my gun.”

      His friend’s expression told Brad how badly he felt—despite the fact that he’d been trying to do the right thing for his sister.

      “I’m such a lousy shot, I’d probably miss your ugly mug and hit an innocent bystander instead.”

      Ed nodded. “Then you’d have to patch him up, and I’d have to run you in. See your point. Too damn much paperwork.”

      They sat for a long moment in silence as cars whizzed by on the street and several pedestrians flashed them curious looks as they passed. Brad was only minimally aware of his surroundings.

      He was thinking about how careful he’d been in his relationships with women. Not once had he had unprotected sex. He’d been so sure that something like this was never going to happen to him.

      “I have to talk to your sister,” he said finally.

      “What are you planning to say?”

      “Haven’t a clue. But I have to do something. Now that I know who’s going to have my…the baby and how it’s going to be raised, I can’t just turn my back and pretend it isn’t happening. Could you?”

      “No, I guess not,” Ed agreed.

      “Do you know if she’s home?”

      “She’s out having dinner with friends tonight. Probably won’t

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