Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [113]
In the building next to the sperm bank, Lily Madison entered the egg donor clinic for her last session. She looked at her watch, knowing she had only an hour. She hoped that today’s session would go as quickly as her others had. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what she was going to feel when she picked up her last check for $6,000. Relief? Guilt? Satisfaction that her last semester was going to be paid for? Maybe all three. When she left after graduation, she would never, ever come back to this place. Never, ever.
Lily adjusted her homemade denim hat with the big sunflower on it as she walked through the swinging doors. For some reason, wearing a hat gave her confidence and courage. She’d tried to explain it to her roommates, but they just laughed at her. They said she wore hats because she hated her kinky, curly hair. Maybe it was both. Her head up, she marched up to the desk and signed in as Donor 1114. Within minutes she was whisked into an examining room.
When it was all over, Lily dressed and sighed with relief. She could leave the place and never come back. Her eyes filled with tears. How weird was that? She swiped them away as she walked toward the payment window. She handed the clerk the slip the doctor had given her and waited. She almost swooned when the check was in her hand. She thought about buying a bottle of wine and drinking it all, by way of celebrating the end of this . . . this . . . experience in her life. It was such a stupid thought, she chased it out of her mind. From here on, what had transpired over the past months was a memory. A memory she could think about or forget about. It’s no big deal, she told herself as she walked out into the late-afternoon sunshine.
Her thoughts all over the map, she didn’t see him until she landed on the ground, and a hand was outstretched to help her up. “You knocked me down,” Lily said inanely.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I mean it, I’m really sorry. Are you all right? Can I do anything for you?”
He smiled, and Lily was charmed.
“I like your hat!”
“I made it.”
“Wow! Are you sure you’re okay?”
He sounds like he cares if I’m all right or not. She nodded and held out her hand. “Lily.”
“Pak,” Pete said, electing to go with his initials instead of his real name. “Are you . . . what I mean is . . . did you?”
Lily nodded again. “I guess you did the . . . uh . . .”
“Yeah, it was my last session.”
“Mine, too.”
“This is embarrassing,” Pete said, offering up his megawatt smile.
“Yes, it is. Are you a student? Do you suppose that when we meet up at one of our reunions, we’ll remember this moment?” Lily asked as she jammed her hat more firmly on her head. Like she was ever going to go to a reunion.
“Yeah. I’m studying to be a teacher. I bet we do. Well, I’m really sorry. If you’re sure you’re okay, I have to get going or I’ll be late for work.”
“I’m okay. I have to get going myself. Good luck.”
Pete turned to walk away, then walked back. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
Lily shrugged. “Try me.”
“Did you . . . uh . . . did you go to any of the counseling sessions?”
The expression on Pak’s face told her he was serious. “No. I wanted to go, but my schedule . . . No, I didn’t. Did you?”
“No. I hope neither one of us regrets it.”
“You sound like you regret it already. It’s not too late if you feel like that.” Lily wondered if what she was saying was true or not. “Hey, wait a minute. Let me ask you a question. That concrete building that runs across the back of the sperm bank and the donor clinic . . . what is it, do you know? Did you ever hear who owns this place?”
Pete shook his head. “I asked one time, and they more or less told me that it was none of my business. I walked around the block after . . . well, after, and thought it a little strange that the building doesn’t have doors or windows. Is there a reason why you’re asking? Some rich guy with tons of money probably owns it. Isn’t that the way of the world, the rich get richer, and the poor get poorer?”
“The first time I went to the clinic,