Pic Up/drop Off

It was nearing Christmas. In fact, I knew exactly how many days it was until Christmas (currently 28) because my kids had relentlessly pestered me every day to tell them for the last month. And would doubtless continue to do so up until the day that Santa came to visit.

It's pretty hard to miss the onset Christmas, of course. Even if you had somehow failed to look at the calendar for the past few months; the cold weather, the abundance of festive junk in the supermarket and cheesy hits on repeat almost everywhere could hardly be overlooked.

One other sign was that the kids started bringing home cute Christmas decorations and pictures that they had made at school and at day care. Like most parents, I treasured every mashed-up, sticky, glitter-ridden creation that was given to me, simply because it was made by their eager little hands.

Every time I dropped off or picked up the kids at day care, I noticed even more tinsel, pictures and creations made out of cotton wool hanging from the windows and the ceiling and pasted up on every wall. You couldn't help but love the enthusiasm of the kids and get wrapped up in it yourself, as did all the day care staff. By now, most of them were accessorising with Christmas hats, and some were branching out into Santa dresses and flashing reindeer noses.

This brings me back to Alessandra. It had been a couple of months since That Day. I thought a lot about it, of course, but we had never talked about what had happened. We both knew that our rendezvous had to be kept the very deepest and darkest secret, and anyway there wasn't much to say. It was clear that it wasn't going to lead to a relationship or anything regular, and anyway the moment we had shared had somehow been so perfect that, in a weird way, it would have almost tainted its purity if we had followed it up with other encounters. We still spoke, of course, and we often exchanged glances and smiles which just conveyed the simple fact that we had shared a beautiful moment together, and that was enough.

And there was another thing: for the last few weeks she had a small but now increasingly visible bump on her belly. I had noticed one or two of the other mums commenting on it and congratulating her with hugs. It's a cliché, but women really can "glow" when they are pregnant -- their hair gets silkier, their skin shines and their breasts grow. I had always looked at Ally every chance I got, and I knew every contour of her body. Her breasts had definitely swelled, and they created an alluring jutting curve underneath her jumper. More than that, she was just really happy. Happy that she was finally going to be a mum.

And so it had continued. Ally was happy, we both kept our mouths shut, all was right with the world, and we carried on almost as if nothing had happened between us.

However, I wouldn't be writing this if that was truly the end of the story. And it wasn't.

A few days before Christmas, on a crisp dark evening, I came as usual to pick up the kids at the end of the day. For a change, I wasn't actually late, and I rang the bell in good spirits, whistling a frustratingly-catchy Christmas tune that had been playing on the radio. The door opened and a wave of warmth hit me, along with shrieks, giggles, noises of scampering feet and some strains of a Christmas carol being sung in one of the classrooms.

It was Zoe who opened the door. "Hi", she said, with a warm smile. "I'll tell the kids you're here."

She went back along the corridor and I waited at the doorway, keeping the door as closed as possible without shutting it, to keep in the warmth. After a few moments, the door opened again. It was Ally.

"Hi" she said, throwing me a smile that immediately lit up my heart. Not a huge grin, but the kind of smile that you couldn't help but smile back at. She had a talent for that.

"Heyy", I said. Then, aiming to bring the quality of the conversation up a notch, I followed with a rather eloquent "what's up?".

As I did so, I couldn't help but glance down at her belly. Her eyes followed mine and she instinctively put a hand on the small bump.

"Everything's great" she said, looking back at me. "Really great". There was a pause. I thought she was going to say something else, but then she broke away from my gaze and said, "So. The kids are just getting ready -- they have to collect all their pictures and it'll take a few minutes. There are a lot." She looked fake-apologetic and then grinned.

"Right... thanks." I said. Then "Yeah", I continued gravely, "we've had some serious shortages of Christmas pictures back home. So thanks for the rescue package. I really owe you one."

"Business as usual" she sighed, laughing. "Always owing me for something!"

"Hey, I have my moments!" I replied, pretending to be offended.

"Well." She glanced away and said in a lower voice, "I can't deny that".

I noticed her face had flushed a little. This was probably the closest we had come to talking about our secret since that day. I also felt a rush of adrenaline. The memory of what had happened, combined with seeing her up close, the light smell of her perfume, and the outline of her body under her Rudolf the Reindeer woolen dress stirred a desire in me that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Hey listen", she said, suddenly changing back to a normal tone. "If you've got just one minute, you need to sign a couple of privacy forms for the Christmas show. I've got them in the office - come on."

Without waiting for an answer, she spun on her heel and walked off back down the corridor.

Predictably and inexorably, I followed her.

She led me into the day care office. It was a small and fairly cluttered room with two desks in it at right angles to one another. The walls were lined with shelves full of files, and the desks had various untidy stacks of paper on them. Like the rest of the day care centre, assorted sparkly Christmas decorations and kids' pictures covered any remaining free spaces on the walls. Surveying the mountains of paper, I couldn't help shaking my head and remarking: "you guys seriously need to go digital".

She shot me a withering look. "Very funny. Now, where's that form?". She turned around and began rummaging through the piles of paper. As usual, my eyes were automatically drawn to her waistline, her ass and hips, and for a moment I began to imagine everything that lay beneath that thin layer of clothes.

All too soon she turned back to face me, brandishing a piece of paper. I quickly snapped myself out of my reverie. "Here it is. You just need to sign here." She gave me a pen and pointed to the dotted line. I obligingly scrawled my signature and handed it back to her. As I did, our eyes met and lingered for a moment. She hesitated, glancing briefly at the slightly-ajar door before looking back at me.

I knew by her expression, and by the sudden tension in the room, that she was going to Say Something. But even if we had wanted to break our unspoken rule, there was no chance of anything happening at that moment. The day care was still half full. Nothing like last time. But she obviously had something to say that was nothing to do with Christmas shows or privacy forms.

"You know," she half whispered, "I never said... thank you". She was looking at me straight in the eye by now. Those eyes, framed by the dark lashes, were fixed on me.

"Actually, you did" I murmured back. "And trust me, you really don't need to thank me. It was... well. It was amazing."

"Yeah, but still..." she glanced again over her shoulder at the door, then looked back and continued in a low voice "I mean, it really worked... first time.... I can't believe it." Her eyes were wide.

"Well..." I shook my head, searching for words, "like I said, that's... how it always happened for me. If I'm honest it's probably just luck."

"I don't think so." She looked up at me and said, with a deadly serious expression, "I think you have like, a kind of talent".

I couldn't help but laugh at this. "A talent? That's great, I can put it on my CV!"

She laughed back: "Yeah and don't forget LinkedIn!". But then almost immediately the conspiratorial expression returned to her face, and she whispered, "No but seriously, whatever it is you are doing, you are doing it very well".

"OK, OK, OK" I said, holding my hands up. "Consider me well and truly flattered. You should stop now before my ego explodes." I shook my head and took a moment to bask in the complement, then added, "But OK, even if that's the case, so what? I'm already at my limit with two kids!" I fake-coughed and added in the lowest voice possible, "Well, two and a bit".

Now she blushed, closed her eyes and smiled. Did every gesture she make have to be so irresistibly cute?

"No but seriously", she continued again, recovering her composure and now speaking slightly insistently, "you could... you know... help people".

"Right..." I said blankly. I wasn't really sure what she was getting at. Should I be giving classes, writing a book or something? Or was she hinting at what I thought she might possibly be hinting at? Really?

This was obviously what she wanted to talk about. She stepped towards me slightly. Quickly and nervously, the words came tumbling out of her mouth in a breathless whisper.

"Look, I've got this friend. Anna. We've known each other since high school. She's kind of a BFF actually. She's.... she's also been trying for while with her husband. Longer than us ... probably two years or so and still nothing. You know there's this whole fertility crisis thing right? I've been reading about it."

As I listened, I could feel my pulse rising. Surely this wasn't going the way it seemed to be going? After a short breath she continued.

"Anyway she... she noticed... like, I mean it's hard not to now", she stroked the small bump on her belly, "and of course we got talking. I mean, she's like probably my best friend. We've known each other since we were like twelve".

I could see she was babbling, awkwardly circling around, working up the courage to tell me something. By this point, I was pretty sure I knew what was coming, but I decided not to let her off the hook. She had to say it.

"So, she wanted to know how... how I managed to... well, get pregnant finally. And so, well..."

"Well?" I said. I couldn't believe this. By now she was squirming slightly on the spot and avoiding eye contact.

"Well. So, I told her I had... a little help."

I knew it. "Ally, I can't believe you told someone!" I hissed through gritted teeth. For the first time ever, I was pissed off with her. "What happened", I glanced quickly over again at the door, before fixing her again with my best glare, "was super-fucking top secret. Like Area-51-deny-everything classified. You can't just go around telling everyone!"

Now that she had confessed, she recovered her composure and defiantly drew herself up to her full height, glaring up fiercely at me. It irked me that despite my anger, I still somehow found the gesture disarmingly attractive.

"I only told one person, and I didn't say anything about who it was!" she hissed back at me. "Look, I'm not stupid, but she's my best friend and she needs help. Do you know what it's like when you desperately want a family, and everyone around you is having kids, but it doesn't work for you?"

I searched desperately for something to retort, but came up with nothing, and instead just gaped helplessly. I had to admit that I didn't know what that was like. She continued, now in a softer tone.

"You probably don't realise it, but a lot of people have trouble like this. Like I said, there's supposed to be a fertility crisis going on. I was reading about it, something to do with processed food or something..." She sighed. "Look, they're a great couple and she'd be the best mum in the world. Everything's perfect. I wouldn't even mention it if it wasn't. You have the power here to give some real happiness. To help them. Please."

She took my hand and squeezed it, looking into my eyes. I swallowed. "Ok but I mean, what do you actually want me to do...?"

She didn't take her eyes from me. I anyway already guessed what she was implying. "I think you know" she whispered.

"Sorry... what are we talking about here?" I said, clutching at straws even though I could see what was coming like a truck hurtling towards me, "I mean... you want me..." (she nodded slowly) "...to help her...." (she nodded again) "get pregnant?" Another nod. "So, like a sperm donor.... IVF kind of thing?"

This time, the nod was not forthcoming.

"Ally", I began, "this is insane. Have you never heard of fertility clinics? There's all kinds of treatments around these days. I mean, I'm not an expert, but I do know that there are loads of ways to help couples.... without resorting to... well. Drastic Measures."

She fixed me with an imploring look. "There are clinics. But it's a really difficult process. It can take years, costs tens of thousands of dollars, miscarriages... And if you have a donor... I mean you don't know what you'll get. It's an awful process and half the time it just ends in nothing."

I searched for something to say but before I could think of anything she continued.

"I know this sounds insane, but I really think you have something special. I was reading about it. Hyperfertility, it's called. It's pretty rare, but it exists. It's like a super-high sperm count -- it means you're much more likely to get a woman pregnant."

I fidgeted awkwardly. On the one hand, being labelled as super-fertile was a significant stroke to my ego. On the other, discussing my sperm count felt pretty seriously awkward. Sensing that she might have got a little too clinical, Ally changed tack.

"Look, I know this on a scale of one-to-weird, this is like, weird. But... you have the power to bring joy to people. To bring life! Don't you think it's worth considering?"

There was a long silence as we looked at each other. It was a lot to take in. Finally, I sighed and ran my hand over my face. I couldn't think what to say in the moment. "Let me think about it, OK?"

"OK". She seemed to be content with that and immediately switched into organisational mode. She picked up the privacy form again and tapped it with the end of the pen. "Look, this has to be top secret, like military grade."

I rolled my eyes so hard that I almost gave myself a headache. She gracefully ignored me. "So, I'm going to put an extra box here." She turned over the paper and drew a small box in pink pen in the top left corner. "When you hand this in, if you tick this box I'll know. If not... well, it is really a lot to ask. So it's really OK. I don't want to put any pressure on you."

If we're honest, I thought wryly to myself, more than a little pressure had already been applied. But I said nothing. At that moment, a shrill call echoed down the corridor from one of the other day care staff. "Ally! Have you seen Tommy's shoes? We can't find them anywhere!"

Ally jumped, as if awakened from a trance. "Ok, gotta go. Don't forget to hand in that form!" She made for the door. Before exiting, she turned around at the doorway, fixed her brown eyes on mine and whispered at me with her hand around her mouth.

"She's cute, you know. I think you'd like her." And with the most mischievous of grins, and a small kiss blown in my direction, she disappeared up the corridor. I was left standing in the office, clutching the privacy form in one hand, the pink box staring up at me fatefully. What the hell was I going to do?

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There are times in life when, faced with a big decision, you genuinely don't know what to do.

There are other times when, if you are really honest with yourself, you've made the decision fairly early on and you spend the rest of the time working up the courage to admit it.

I knew, deep down, almost from the moment that Ally had drawn the pink box, that I was going to tick it. But first I had to go through the process of pretending to myself that I didn't know, weighing up the pros and cons, and spending a few sleepless nights agonising over it. Really, the whole thing was insane. I had never even met Ally's friend. And what if we got found out somehow? And also, a part of me felt a little used, as if I were being reduced to a mating stallion, bidden to perform on demand.

And yet, the very same fact entranced me. One thing was always going to override any logic: the deep animalistic instinct to procreate. I couldn't stop thinking about this female that needed me, that needed my seed. If I was honest, the thought of being the stallion, and being led to my waiting mare, really turned me on. Nothing was more alluring. And after all, hadn't Ally said I was helping, and bringing happiness? But was I a man or a horse?! The problem was intractable. Except... it wasn't.

The next Monday, I brought the privacy form back to the day care centre in the morning. Ally wasn't there so I gave it to one of the other ladies at the door. As she walked back down the corridor I watched the small black tick in the pink box, drifting away from me and sealing my fate.

----------

A week passed, and then another. I was going through a particularly busy period with work, and I was always in a rush. I barely saw Ally in that time, and as the days passed I almost started to wonder whether I had imagined the whole thing. After all, it barely sounded like reality when I reminded myself of the situation.

And then one day, with only a couple of weeks to go before Christmas, I arrived on a cold, crisp evening to pick up the kids. Ally answered the door.

We exchanged our usual "heys". I always wished I had something more charismatic to say. But then, it seemed to do the job. Ally had a fairly thick woollen shawl around her and was wearing reindeer antlers. As usual, she looked irresistibly cute to me. But then, she could have been wearing a sack and I'd still find her enchanting. She called for the kids over her shoulder and turned back to me, her hip leaning against the doorframe, the door only half open because of the cold.

"The kids made these" she said, handing me two glittery paper Christmas stars with pieces of cotton wool stuck at odd angles all over them, presumably meant to look like snow. I briefly considered pointing out a few good reasons why you wouldn't find snow stuck to a star, but then thought better of it. "Great" I said, "these are going straight on the tree".

Then she handed me another star. This one was just a cardboard star without any glitter or cotton wool on it. "This one didn't go so well, you should probably throw it away before you get home". She gave me a very fixed look and squeezed my fingers slightly as she handed it to me. A little spark of electricity passed between us. I looked back at her.

At that moment the kids came pushing through the doorway and the moment suddenly disappeared. I said bye to Ally and we walked off to the car. As I walked, I looked more closely at the mystery star. On the back was written an address, a day next week, and a time.

It was on.

--------

It was a dark and sleeting Tuesday evening when I pulled into the hotel car park that was at the address that Ally had written on the star. The place was a little out of town and was unlikely to win any design awards. In fact, it was so dull and unremarkable that it no one would even notice it unless they were specifically looking for it. Cars obliviously rushed up and down the road next to it. All in all, the perfect venue.

I parked the car and jumped out. I ran to the entrance though the cold and slushy snow and into the lobby. My heart was beating fast, partly from running, and partly from the nervousness that had been building up for the last few days in anticipation of this evening. I was glad to see that the lobby was empty; the hotel was one of those places with an automatic check in. I wondered briefly how many discrete and secret encounters happened here. It almost seemed designed for that purpose. I searched for the room number: 205. Two floors up.