Stardust Miracle (25 page)

When he finally turned, she could see the ‘no’ in his face. It was shut down. Not showing emotion. “I can’t do it.”

She nodded and even managed a smile. “Of course.” Her voice came out thick, but the curve of her lips didn’t dip. “I understand. We’d better get dressed.”

He got up and finally put on his pants. She quickly grabbed her clothes from the floor, not wanting him to see her butt in a bent-over position. Though she wasn’t getting his sperm, she still wanted to date him.

A thought occurred to her and she held her clothes to her chest.

Would he want to see her again?

“What are you going to do now?” he asked.

She turned, still holding her clothes against her. “I’ll use a sperm bank.”

He nodded, his expression still shut down.

“Are you...” She stopped and shook her head. “Will we see each other again?”

“You mean dating?”

She nodded then waited, hardly breathing. 

His gaze dropped from hers and now he pulled on his jeans. “I’m sure we will.” 

More hot tears prickled on her eyes. She could tell Trey was doing the one thing she hadn’t expected.

Lying.

He left without kissing her good-bye.

As soon as he was gone, she turned on the computer. Dry-eyed, she typed two words into the search box: SPERM BANKS
.

Chapter Forty-one

Laughter rang in Sarah’s kitchen. The scents of Chinese takeout hung in the air though the food containers were cleaned off the kitchen table, replaced by three laptops spaced out for the four women. Joy and Elsa had brought their own notebooks. Becky and Sarah shared one, which wasn’t working so well as they both tried to type at the same time.

Right now, Becky looked around the table at their faces. Sarah, Joy and Elsa all smiling. But no one’s smile was as wide as hers.

A warm, fuzzy feeling grew inside Becky’s chest.

Happiness
. She had it.

With all that had happened lately, and all that might happen soon, she treasured this moment of pure contentment.

“The sparkling grape juice is good.” Sarah lifted her glass, the dark purplish red liquid glowing under the hanging light. “But I’m still eager for the day when I can drink wine again.” She glanced sideways at Becky. “You sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.” Becky put her hand over her stomach. Nothing in her womb now. But soon, she hoped. Soon. 

“I thought Dr. Johnson was letting her patients have wine occasionally?” Joy lifted her own glass to her lips. She was on her second already, taking advantage of their girls’ night while her husband kid-sat their son and Cody.

“I know, but I...” Sarah shook her head, her smile wavering.

Becky patted her shoulder and knew what her sister was thinking. Life was fragile and Sarah preferred not to take chances.

“I’m just glad you invited me,” Elsa said.

“You’re absolutely necessary.” Becky leaned toward her, and touched her arm. She was becoming touchy-feely tonight, and she’d only had half a glass of wine.

“Me, too?” Joy asked.

“You, too,” Becky agreed. In the two weeks since she’d made the decision to look for a sperm donor, she’d gotten to know Joy better. Joy loved to laugh and talk trash. Becky thought since Joy trusted her with the size of her husband’s erection – which she shared last week while Kevin was playing baseball with his friends – she could trust Joy to keep it quiet that she was having a ‘hunt for a sperm donor’ party.

“I like your third choice,” Elsa said.

“All seven kind of look the same.” Joy squinted at the screen, and Becky suspected she needed reading glasses. “Brown hair, six feet tall, muscular.”

“Reminds me of someone,” Sarah whispered, and Becky elbowed her in the ribs. 

As Sarah squeaked, Becky pointed at the screen. “I happen to like that look, but they’re all different otherwise. The first is a linguist. The second is going to school to be a quantum physicist. The third—”

“Is only twenty-two,” Sarah said. “A little young, don’t you think?”

“It’s his sperm I’m using. Not his body.”

“Healthy swimmers, too.” Joy giggled. “Already there’s been one pregnancy.”

“Your fifth choice is twenty-seven and he has three children,” Elsa said. “He plays the saxophone in a major orchestra. I adore the saxophone.”

“Let’s see him.” Sarah craned her head closer to the screen and clicked on the picture. Up popped a photo of Number 5 donor in all his glorious color – which Becky had paid extra for. Totally worth it, she thought, bringing her head next to Sarah’s.

“I like saxophones, too,” Sarah said. “And he’s pretty yummy.”

“He looks familiar,” Joy said.

Sarah giggled and Becky hunched down in her chair. Glancing at Elsa, Becky saw she was smiling. Becky put her hands under her thighs to keep from putting them over her face.

Yes, the donor did look a little like Trey. Okay, maybe a lot. But that was nothing to be ashamed about.

At least Trey would never know.

Goldie barked, and so did the puppy. A higher-pitched, less-loud, but more enthusiastic version.

“I hope it’s not a coyote.” Joy glowered toward the front of the house.

“I heard about the coyote killing your cat a couple months ago,” Elsa said to Becky. “That must’ve been frightening.”

Becky shuddered and nodded. Though Lucy had been more Jim’s cat than hers, she’d shed tears over Lucy’s violent death.

The back doorbell buzzed before she could say anything. As if on cue, Goldie and Sammy rushed into the kitchen, barking. The kitten was close behind them, staying back a little in case he needed to run and hide.

Sarah pushed up from the chair. “Did Derek say he’s coming over?”

“He called today, but I told him we were having a girls’ night.” She hadn’t dated him since that one time, but he still called once a week or so. Still hopeful, even though she’d finally told him that it wasn’t a good idea.

“It’s not him then,” Sarah said. 

Becky nodded. Just the thought of being alone with four women probably would terrify Derek – way too much estrogen for him.

Sarah headed to the door, her stomach preceding her. Becky felt a quick pain that Marsh wasn’t here to go through the pregnancy with her sister.

At least Sarah wouldn’t be alone. She and Becky were there for each other now – thicker than ever. And Elsa, too.

A warmth washed over Becky, and sparkles appeared behind Sarah as she reached the back door. 

Becky gasped at the sight of them, the sound drowned by Sammy’s bark at the door.

Joy and Elsa were watching Sarah, too, both holding their glasses of wine. Neither appeared startled. Neither dropped their glasses or stood and shouted ‘holy shit.’ Nothing showed that they saw sparkles or anything out of the usual.

Only Becky, who felt a sense of wonder inside her as the sparkles formed a hand that brushed over the back of Sarah’s hair.

Becky mouthed a name.
Marsh.

The sparkles twisted, as if nodding at her, then twirled back to Sarah. They hovered over her. Sarah opened the door and more sparkles shimmered down on her. Sarah’s skin glowed.

The next second the glow was gone, along with any stray sparkles – as if the whole thing had been a figment of Becky’s imagination.

But she’d never had much of an imagination. She’d always been the worker. It was other people who had the creative vision.

Even now, she couldn’t imagine why the sparkles had appeared. Then she thought it had nothing to do with her. They’d appeared for Sarah, though Sarah couldn’t see them.

Maybe at some level, though, she knew.

“Hey, Sarah,” Trey said from the back door. His deep voice reverberated into Becky’s gut like a fast kick.

Sarah stepped back to let him inside. The dogs pushed in front of her, though she protested in a weak tone. Becky knew the only way to shut them up quickly was to open the cupboard where their treats took up half a shelf.

Trey petted both dogs and greeted the kitten who was rubbing the side of his head against Sarah’s pants leg. When the dogs’ excitement subsided, Trey straightened. Though he said ‘hi’ to all of them, he gazed straight at Becky.

“I interrupted something?” he asked.

“Ah...” Sarah glanced behind her at Becky, and she shook her head. Sarah faced Trey again while Becky drank him in with her eyes. He looked big and strong and sexy.

And a lot like the photos of her potential sperm donors.

Elsa turned to her laptop, her back to the door. Bending her head, she studied the screen, turned back and smiled. Looked at Trey and nodded, too.

Joy slapped her hand over her mouth, but a giggle escaped. She smirked at Becky. “So that’s it,” she said softly.

“That’s what?” Trey asked.

“Never mind.” Joy shot him a grin.

Becky wanted to sink below the table and not come out until he left. Instead she lifted her chin and her eyebrows. Her days of shrinking because of a man were over.

“We’re having a girls’ night,” Sarah said.

“I won’t be long then.” He shifted his gaze to Sarah. “I just stopped off to pay the rent for the storage buildings. How much?”

“I’m an idiot.” Sarah scrunched her face. “I can’t remember what we agreed upon.”

“You never named a price.”

“Oh. Is two hundred a month too much?”

“Two fifty,” he said.

Sarah’s eyes glittered with instant moisture. The two fifty would be grocery money. Or pay for medical bills. A small drop in a large bucket. Though Becky was helping her out, Sarah was determined to pay her own way.

“Okay, two fifty. Do you want a beer? Or wine?”

“Another time. You take credit cards?”

“I do.” Sarah beamed, obviously proud of herself for being part of the twenty-first century. “I’m on PayPal, too.”

“PayPal works even better. Can I use your computer?”

 “Sure. It’s in front of Becky.” She gestured toward Becky, and as he crossed to the table, Sarah’s eyes rounded and her mouth formed a silent howl of horror, as if she were an actress in one of the
Scream
movies.

Elsa’s mouth opened in an
O
, too. Once again, Joy slapped her hand over her mouth and a giggle escaped.

Three steps. Didn’t even take him one second and Trey reached Becky’s side, moving faster than she could gather her wits.

The laptop was in front of Sarah’s chair, and Becky lurched forward, blocking his view, her arm reached out to—

“What’s going on?” Trey’s hand curved over hers and she froze. “Why is everyone acting like I’m about to discover the real Declaration of Independence?”

“I’m looking at something private.” She stared fiercely at him. “Do you mind?”

But his gaze wasn’t on her. It was on the laptop screen. He was peering over her shoulder, straight at the face of a guy that could’ve been him ten years ago.

On top of the page, were two hard-to-miss words: SPERM BANK.

Chapter Forty-two

“I’ll get PayPal.” Becky angled the laptop closer to her and sat down. She was normally a decent typist, though never speedy, but now she kept typing the wrong letters and then had to delete them and type the right ones.

Finally the PayPal page showed. She stood and pushed the chair back. “It’s all yours.”

He didn’t move. “We need to talk.”

“Not really.” She crossed her arms. She refused to be embarrassed or intimidated. “I told you I was going to do this.”

Not budging, like a six-foot pillar of cement, he continued to gaze down at her. “We still need to talk.”

“Go ahead.” She gave him a stare that said she wasn’t budging, either. She’d always been the one to budge since she was a child, but it was time to throw off her childish ways. Lately she was tossing them off like they were dead bugs on her skin.

She tilted her head toward the others, her gaze still locked on his face. “I’m sure everyone would love to hear what you have to say.” 

“I would!” Joy gave an up-and-down chair hop.

“Me, too.” Sarah stood behind Elsa. “But Becky will tell me when you leave anyway, so I can wait.”

Becky rolled her eyes while Trey rubbed his forehead. Then he did something she didn’t expect.

He grinned.

She gaped at him. A show of independence had never been treated with humor in her father’s house. Or Jim’s.

As it hit her that she thought of the place where she’d lived for sixteen years as Jim’s home and not hers, Trey did something that shocked her.

He chuckled.

She melted like butter left out in the sun. She wanted to purr like the kitten.

Her father would have snapped off an order. Jim would’ve stiffened or looked at her with sadness...letting her know she was letting him down, not acting like the good wife.

But this man...this man who she wanted every time she saw him...

Her independence
amused
him.

“We can talk in the living room.” She walked around him, careful not to brush against him. Her nerves were quivering. Her skin felt exposed, as if a touch from him would electrify her.

She led him into the living room. The dogs were already there, on the floor. Though if someone brought out food in the kitchen, that would change in an instant. The kitten was there, too, crouched on the top of the sofa, ready to jump off and run if they came too close.

Trey stopped in the middle of the room. “I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

“Be the father.”

Her heart stopped for a beat. Then it started again. Faster and harder. “Because you don’t want me to use a donor?”

“I’ve been in L.A. for the last eight days.” He scratched his chin and gazed at the drapes. His eyes narrowed, as if he could see through them all the way to Los Angeles. When he brought his gaze back to Becky, his eyes were hooded. Not telling her anything when she wanted to know everything with just one look. “I spent a lot of time thinking. Not just in L.A., but on the drive there and back.”

She nodded, her emotions held back tightly. Desperately afraid to say anything. Desperately afraid that what she was hoping for, what she thought he was going to say, might not be said.