Page 5 of Doctor Daddies

I had a little bit of money put away before he was born, but that soon went down the drain as I had to pay for endless medical tests, expensive food that wouldn’t upset his stomach, everything that he needed to get by. And it’s not like I can exactly take on some nine-to-five, given that I’m constantly called away to look after Lewis. I’ve worked a little since he was born, but by the time I’m on my fifth callout of the week to pick him up from school during a particularly bad flare-up, the places I work normally tell me not to bother coming back in.

Matt does what he can, traveling around the country as a neurology specialist, but I don’t want to have to rely on my brother to take care of me, not if I can help it. It makes me feel so damn useless, knowing that I have to turn to someone else tokeep the money coming in, to help me with childcare. Not that he’s around much to do that—right now, he’s across the state at a conference, and it’s not as though I can text him to ask him to bring me a few bits and pieces.

It’s just me. Me and Lewis. I kiss the top of his head and close my eyes, breathing in the scent of his hair, reminding myself how I felt when I held him at the hospital.

No matter what happens, I can’t let all this stress and frustration turn into resentment, because I know he wouldn’t choose a single part of this. I don’t know where he even got the disease from in the first place. I guess from his father, given that we don’t have a history of it in our family, but then…

But then, which father am I speaking about?

I have three to choose from. Three men I was with on that night, three men I’ve avoided ever since. Matt has mentioned meeting up with his old roommates a few times, since they run a clinic doing something or other across the city, and he has invited me to join him, but I’ve turned him down every time.

I don’t know if he’s told them about Lewis, or, if he has, if they’ve put the pieces together about his parentage, but I’m not sure I want to know one way or another. Some things are better left in the past, and I know that inviting all three of those men into my life after all this time would just bring more stress down on my head.

And on Lewis too, for that matter, which is the last thing he needs right now. No, the best thing I can do for him is to keep things as steady as I possibly can, even if it feels like the truth might come leaking out the cracks at any second. Lewis laughsat something in the cartoon, and I blink back into the moment, bringing myself to the here and now.

“Can I have one?” I ask him playfully, as I go to swipe one of the pudding cups from the tray. Sometimes, he gets a little more enthused about eating if he gets the idea that his food is just that irresistible. I should probably be more careful about watching my figure, but it’s not like I’m seeing anyone anyway. Not like many people would look twice at a single mom with a kid who needs more help than most.

“No!” he protests, as he tries to scrabble it back from me—but he’s smiling, and my heart warms at the sight of the joy on his face.

It’s moments like these, no matter how few and far between they might be, that make it feel as though it’s all worthwhile. I need to hang on to these for dear life, to remind myself that all of this is for a reason. I want to see him smile, to see him happy, to see him thriving, and there’s not a thing in the world I wouldn’t do to make that happen.

I turn my attention back to the cartoon on the screen in front of us, trying to unwind a little. I doubt that the rest of this week is going to be any easier than the days that have already passed. But right now, it’s just me and my little boy, and I don’t care about anything else.

2

ROSS

As I wash up,I look in the mirror, scanning my face and frowning. Dark circles under my eyes make it clear that I haven’t been drinking enough water, and I’ve no doubt spent a few too many nights out with James and Cole on top of it. I need to get my shit together.

But not this evening, of course, since I’m meant to be meeting with the two of them at the small, exclusive bar just up the street from our shared workplace. Our clinic is in one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city, attracting the kind of clientele who are able to afford the cost of our services; we don’t overcharge, but we have some serious skills and experience to our name, and that means we do not second-guess how much we are worth.

I flick off the light in my office bathroom and make my way to reception, where Isla, the receptionist, is tidying up for the night.

“We have cleaners to do that, Isla,” I remind her, for what has to be the thousandth time since she started working here.

She shrugs. “I like things a certain way,” she replies cheerfully. “Anyway, you have a good night!”

“You too,” I reply, as I grab my bag from behind the counter and toss it over my shoulder. James and Cole are already at the bar, no doubt a drink deep already, but I had a couple of files I wanted to go over before I joined them, and they know me well enough to understand that I’m not going to skip out on my duties.

And besides, I need a little time to myself. I know that the two of them can handle pretty much anything that gets thrown their face, taking on new clients like it’s nothing, but I’m more solitary. I like the science side of this fertility stuff, the conferences about new technology, the constantly evolving state of the field. The people stuff, I leave to the others.

I step out into the cool evening air, where the streetlights are already streaking the dark sidewalks below. There aren’t many people out and about, but the few who are out are clearly like me—sticking around late at work to take care of something or other, perhaps looking for a little time to clear their heads the same way I was.

I reach the bar, and the guard at the door steps aside to let me in. I nod in thanks, and head inside. The lights are low, the band playing jazz music in the far corner of the room, and James lifts his hand to wave me over to our normal booth. There are already a couple of drinks sitting in front of them, and it’s clear they’ve already made a start.

“Hey,” I greet them, as I slide into one of the brown leather seats opposite. “See you didn’t bother to wait for me.”

“I knew you would be a while,” Cole replies. “You always stay latest out of all of us.”

I grin. They know me too well.

“Yeah, well, some of us don’t like slacking off,” I remark, cocking an eyebrow and glancing around the table.

James laughs. “Slacking off? Ross, I had a half-dozen appointments today. And three of them were new clients?—”

“I’m just kidding,” I assure him, as I wave down a waiter and order myself a scotch. Even if I might have the most obsessive work ethic out of the three of us, I know that they are far from slackers. The two of them have worked as hard as I have for a long time, at least when we were getting the fertility clinic off the ground.

It was one hell of a big swing, opening up a place like that right after college, and plenty of people said we were going to fail. But the three of us, as stubborn as we were, refused to allow that to happen, and now we run one of the most successful fertility support centers in the city.