Read What Came First Online

Authors: Carol Snow

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women

What Came First (8 page)

As for sperm donors, it doesn’t hurt to look.
There’s nothing on eBay, at least right now. But Google turns up a whole bunch of sperm bank sites, each with a long list of donors. Think about it. All these men, there for the picking! Well, not the actual men, of course, but for a few hundred bucks, they’ll give me what my boyfriend of five years won’t.
None of the sites have photographs, which kind of blows. Not that I necessarily need to find someone who looks like that
Twilight
guy, but I don’t want my baby daddy to be a troll. Still, there’s a lot more information here than you’d see on an online dating site. (Yeah, I’m speaking from experience. I had a couple of dry years, manwise.) There are questions that the donor guy answered. Even better, there are interviews. Someone sits down with the guys, talks to them, writes down their impressions. That way, if the guy’s all “I love people,” and the interviewer’s all “He wouldn’t make eye contact,” you know you might end up with shifty-eyed babies.
Again, I’m just looking. Just curious. But between filling out a next-appointment card for one of Melva’s patients and telling some lady on the phone that Dr. Sanchez wouldn’t be back until Monday (and that he’ll be out next Friday and the Friday after that and I don’t know why dentists take Fridays off, they just do), I fell just a little bit in love with Donor 4317.
PERSONAL:
Born:
06/1987
Education:
BA, American history
Current occupation:
Realtor trainee
PHYSICAL:
Height:
6 feet
Weight:
160 lbs.
Hair:
Dark brown, wavy
Eye color:
Brown
Complexion:
Fair/rosy
Body type:
Slim/athletic
Ethnic origin:
English, German, Dutch, French, Mexican
Religion:
Was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, considers himself spiritual but has no specific religious affiliation
Book group/Rh:
O positive
Baby photo available:
No
Other defining features:
Resembles Rivers Cuomo, the lead singer of the band Weezer
After that there was a family medical history that was way too boring to read. Then I got to the good parts.
SELF-DESCRIPTION, Donor 4317
Describe your personality:
I love to laugh and have a good time. Also, I like to make other people laugh, so I am always telling jokes and stories. I try to be a good listener. I have a lot of energy. I do not like to sit around but would rather be out doing something athletic or building something or helping someone. I am driven and ambitious and willing to work hard for what I want in life.
 
Describe your interests and talents:
People say I am a people person because I am good at putting people at ease. I guess that is just because I genuinely like people and like to help them out. I enjoy being outside and especially like the ocean. I have been a diver for many years and am just learning to windsurf. I love the feeling of freedom when I am out on the waves. I am also good with my hands. I can fix and build things.
 
Describe your feelings and skills in the following areas:
 
Math:
I always did well in math but didn’t pursue it past high school because I enjoyed reading and writing more.
 
Mechanical:
I am very good at fixing things. I also like to make wooden things like shelves or even tables. I have a niece who loves dolphins, so last year for her birthday I carved one for her. It wasn’t the greatest thing ever, but she really loved it, and the smile on her face is something I will always treasure!
 
Athletics:
I played a lot of sports when I was young (baseball, basketball, soccer, swimming). I was on the high school swim team, which I really enjoyed. I ranked statewide in the backstroke.
 
Creative:
My most creative thing is that I like to make things. I have always been good at drawing and painting and am great at clay and sculpture. My father taught me how to make things out of wood, and I still enjoy woodworking. At times I have thought of making a business out of selling wooden jewelry boxes, but I do not feel I have the time or resources to commit to it at this time.
 
Describe your goals and ambitions:
I am working toward my real estate license. I like real estate because I can help people find the perfect homes for their families. Eventually, I would like to own my own real estate brokerage, which would provide financial security for me and the family I hope to have someday. Another big goal is to fall in love with a woman, get married, and have children together. I can’t wait to be a dad!
 
Explain your reasons for becoming a sperm donor:
I grew up in a loving family, so I know how much it means to have that. Donating sperm is something I can do to help people build the kind of family that will spread a lot of happiness. Having a family has always been a big dream of mine, so I want to help others achieve that same dream.
 
What would you like to say to the people who receive your sperm?
I am honored to have the opportunity to help you and your family. All I ask is that your child grows up with a lot of love and support to become the best person possible.
“What you looking at?” I hadn’t heard Melva coming up behind me.
“Just trying to pick the father of my unborn child.” I laugh. “Not really, just I was bored, so I looked up this site.”
“Lemme see.” Melva scoots me out of the way. I use the interruption as an excuse to get a cup of coffee from our tiny break room, which is really just a walk-in closet with a coffeemaker and minifridge. The coffee tastes gross from sitting too long, but I add sugar and cream. That helps.
Melva is still on the computer, muttering, “Maybe . . . he’s kind of . . . nah . . . too much asthma in the family.” She clicks the mouse and brings up a new donor.
“I like this one.” I reach over her for the mouse and click back to the wood-carving, family-loving, real estate guy.
INTERVIEWER IMPRESSIONS, Donor 4317
The first thing I noticed about Donor 4317 was his beautiful smile, which just lights up the room. He has dark hair and eyes, full lips, and strong cheekbones. His love for physical activity is evident in his lean, muscular build. His manner is very open and friendly but not overbearing. He was happy to answer my questions but made it clear that he was also a good listener. More than once he joked, “But enough about what I think. What do you think about me?”
 
Donor 4317 enjoys being active. He told me that one of the reasons he pursued real estate was because he couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck behind a desk all day. He was a competitive swimmer in high school and still loves the water. He has enjoyed scuba diving in the past, and he has just taken up windsurfing. Clearly, this is a man who loves a challenge and enjoys life.
 
Donor 4317 is an only child. He lives a short drive away from his parents and visits them once a week. He is very close to them but says he’s always wished for a big family and is glad that through donating sperm he can help others achieve that dream.
Melva is unimpressed. “Who’s Rivers Cuomo?”
“Dunno. Says he’s in Weezer.”
We do a quick image search on Rivers Cuomo, and my love for Donor 4317 fades, just a tiny bit. He’s okay looking, but no
Twilight
guy.
My cell phone rings. It’s Eric. Weird . . . I feel this stab of guilt, like I really had been checking out guys on a dating site. Then I feel another stab of guilt as I think,
Eric has no career, no ambition, and no desire for a family. Plus Melva’s right: he’s kind of short. No one would ever pick him for a donor.
I press the talk button on my phone. “Hey, baby.” I’d still choose him over 4317, if only he’d let me.
Melva rolls her eyes.
It’s been over a week since my birthday. I haven’t said anything more about marriage or children, and neither has Eric (of course). All I can do is pretend it never happened.
“You free tonight?” He speaks loudly to be heard over the background noise. Eric usually calls me from the parking lot outside the Hawthorne Costco.
“Yeah.” I would never plan something without checking with Eric first, so he’s got to know I’m free. For some reason, whenever he wants to go somewhere, he calls and asks like it’s a date. I used to think that was really cute, like he’s not taking me for granted. I don’t think it’s so cute anymore.
“It’s my dad’s birthday, and my mom wants us all to come for dinner.”
“Uh . . . sure. Is there going to be a cake?”
“Of course not. She just wants us around.”
“Oh, right.”
“Angie’s put together that photo album or scrapbook or whatever she was talking about at Christmas.” Angie is Eric’s sister-in-law. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, but my mom said she knows about it but we all need to pretend she doesn’t.”
The scrapbook. The thought of it makes my stomach clench. When Angie asked me for recent pictures of Eric, I gave her some cute pictures of us at Hermosa Beach last summer.
She said, “No offense, but I really just want pictures of the family in the book, so I’m going to have to cut you out.
No offense.
When I was a kid, my best friend was this girl named Julie Castillo. Julie lived down the street with her two sisters and four brothers in a cramped three-bedroom bungalow that looked just like mine from the outside except mine was beige and hers was yellow, plus mine had scruffy grass in the small strip between the concrete sidewalk and front steps, while hers had plastic flowers planted in the dirt. Which I know is tacky, but I really loved them.
On the inside, the Castillos’ house was nothing like mine. The house was alive with the smells of Mrs. Castillo’s cooking—onions and tomatoes and peppers—and the shouts and laughter of the seven Castillo kids and their army of friends. In my house, the television did all the talking, and the air smelled like garbage that should’ve been taken out yesterday.
Every time I went in the Castillos’ house, at least after my father died, I wished I were part of their family. When Eric and I started going out and I heard he was one of four kids, I thought, this is it—the family I’ve been waiting for.
But now I realize it doesn’t work that way. I need to have a family of my own.
“You working right now?” I ask Eric.
“I’m on break. Hey. Are we running low on bean burritos? We just got in a new shipment.”
My jaw tightens. “Have you checked the freezer lately? We’ve got like twenty burritos left from the last bag you brought home.”
“Yeah, I know. I was kidding. Anyway. See you at home.”
Melva is still on the computer even though there’s an old lady in the waiting room. She clutches a big black bag on her lap and looks annoyed.
“Hi, Mrs. Guerrero. Have you been helped?”
The old lady purses her lips and shakes her head. Melva keeps her eyes on the computer screen, her mouth curled in a sneer. Mrs. Guerrero’s English is shaky, and Melva speaks Spanish, so she used to be Melva’s patient. But Melva said something to piss her off, so now Mrs. Guerrero will only let Pammy clean her teeth.
“Pammy will be ready for you in a minute,” I tell her, speaking slowly.
She nods and continues to look annoyed.
Melva surrenders my chair. “Eric calling to propose?”
“Yeah, right. It’s his dad’s birthday, so we’re going up to Glendale for dinner.”
“You get his dad a present?”
“Don’t have to. He’s dead.”
11
Laura
Based on the photo she e-mailed, I disagree with Wendy Winder’s assessment that her children look nothing like Ian; there is a definite resemblance around the eyes and also in the little girl’s expression. The picture shows them gazing into a tank at Sea World, one of Ian’s and my favorite weekend destinations. He has gazed at the tank in just the same way, and while I know the odds are nearly nonexistent, I can’t help but wonder whether we’ve ever passed by his biological half siblings—and whether there are any other children going about their daily lives of school and sports and vacations who share his DNA.
As much as Wendy Winder complained about her twins (who can’t be as bad as she made them sound), I keep thinking,
At least they have each other
. Ian just has me. And someday I’ll be gone.
When I see Doug Hepplewhite’s name on my schedule Friday morning, I steel myself for an onslaught of uncomfortable emotions. Doug is Dorothy Hepplewhite’s son and trustee. For someone who deals with the grief-stricken on a regular basis, I still struggle to strike the proper tone. Some people want to spend the entire session talking about their loved one, which, considering my hourly rate, can put a small dent in their inheritance. Other survivors get right to business. My fondness for Dorothy only compounds the situation, and I don’t want my personal sadness to add to her son’s burden.

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