Newborn Baby For Christmas. Fiona Lowe

champagne.

      He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling the rasp of stubble against his palms. If he applied logic to the problem and removed the emotions, it came down to a single fact. His best friend, a woman who would do anything for him, needed his help. Help he’d offered in the past. Help he was honour-bound to provide.

       But where was the line drawn on the statute of reasonable friendship requests?

      As much as he was concerned about the impact that him saying yes would have on their friendship, he was more worried about the impact of saying, no.

      Georgie held her breath as she sat opposite Hamish in a quiet café overlooking the bay. It had been thirty hours since she’d asked him to be a sperm donor and she’d almost become obsessive compulsive in that time, constantly checking her phone. Last night as she’d sat curled up on the couch—there’d been no point going to bed because sleep had been beyond her—she’d lurched between He agreed to read the paperwork, which means he’s considering it and will say yes, and the more resounding, He’ll say no.

      The fact he’d finally called her and said, ‘I need to ask you some questions,’ had fired hope into her, but it was now tinged with dread as she watched Hamish’s clear and steady gaze move over the printed words. Her heart bounced against her ribs and the sound echoed in her ears, deafening her.

      Was it too much to ask of him?

      Maybe. No. It had never occurred to her not to ask him. He was her best friend and it made total sense to her that he would be the sperm donor for her child. He had great genes, a caring nature and for reasons he’d never really elucidated, despite some gentle probing over the years, he didn’t want to be a father.

      She, on the other hand, wanted a baby so much it hurt. She was an experienced doctor, enjoyed family medicine and had been told hundreds of times she was great with kids so she knew she could do this parenting gig on her own and not involve him at all. It was a win-win situation all round.

      Hamish glanced up from the second page of the document with a familiar wicked gleam in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since she’d floored him with her request. ‘So, no sex?’

      Her usually deep laugh sounded high-pitched and nervous.

      She’d be lying to herself if she said she’d never fantasised about what sex would be like with Hamish. What woman wouldn’t when faced with six feet two of a toned, tanned and buff surfer-fit body? But that had been a long time ago and she’d never been one for casual sex, especially if it risked their friendship.

      ‘Sex is too random and this is too important to leave to chance. I want the back-up of science and technology to maximise my chances of getting pregnant quickly. I’ll have ultrasounds, and thirty-six hours before the intra-uterine insemination, I’ll jab myself with follicle-stimulating hormone.’

      His shoulders squared as they tightened with apprehension and his expression became serious once again. ‘So I travel to the IVF clinic in Tasmania to make my deposits?’

      ‘Yup. They have movies and magazines.’ She tried to lighten his mood. ‘That’s the fun part for you.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘Hardly, but we won’t go there. Why Tasmania?’

      ‘Privacy for both of us. The medical community here is too small and everyone knows everyone. Even if we went to Melbourne, we’d run into people from university. I’ll pay for your air fares and your time because I don’t want you embarrassed or compromised. I figured you could go down for a couple of weekends, enjoy a mini-break on the apple isle and bank a few deposits, so to speak.’

      A grudging flash of admiration crossed his face. ‘You’ve really thought this through.’

      She twisted her hands in her lap. ‘It’s all I’ve been thinking about for months.’

      Thinking, dreaming and planning.

      He nodded slowly, his expression contemplative, and he returned to the document.

      Time slowed down to a crawl and she wished she could dive inside his head and see and hear exactly what he was thinking. Instead, she had to sit and wait. She was so used to being in charge at work that it didn’t sit easily.

      ‘They’ll freeze the sperm?’

      ‘Yes.’

      His gaze bored into her. ‘And if you don’t get pregnant from my donations, what then?’

      She chewed on her lip. ‘Would you be prepared to donate more?’

      A long sigh rumbled out of him. ‘To be honest, George, I’m not even certain I want to do it once.’

      ‘Oh.’ Her stomach sank as hope dribbled away. She now wished he’d just said no over the phone. She sat tracing the pool of condensation from her water that had dribbled down onto the tabletop.

      Hamish leaned forward and stirred his coffee so hard that some splashed into the saucer. ‘I won’t have my name on the birth certificate,’ he muttered softly, ‘and I doubt you can get around that.’

      His clipped words hammered her and she spoke quickly, leaping onto a spluttering kernel of hope, keen to allay his concerns. ‘You won’t be named. The one thing that Mum and Dad’s deaths has given me is financial security. When I add in my income, even though it will be reduced with part-time work, I won’t need to claim family assistance. That gives me a loophole to avoid naming the father and I promise that you won’t be named.’

      ‘What about us spending time together after the baby’s born?’

      ‘I …’ God, why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d emphasised that this baby was hers and only hers, and she believed that utterly. She shredded a paper napkin and tried to think, realising for the first time that a baby might change everything between them. ‘I understand what you’re saying. I guess I get a babysitter.’ A heavy feeling gathered in her chest and she rubbed her sternum.

      He ran one hand across the back of his neck as if his appeal against a death sentence had just been squashed and then he finally closed the document. ‘If I do this, I have a rule.’

      If.

      A squeal of excitement bubbled up in her as she sensed she was unexpectedly close to getting what she wanted. ‘What is it?’

      A seriously stern look entered his eyes, extinguishing the usual fun that mostly lived there. The only other times she’d seen him like this had been when he’d had to deliver bad news to patients or their relatives. The bubbles of excitement inside her burst, splattering trepidation from tip to toe.

      ‘Georgie, my parents must never find out. Ever.’

      His words roared around her and she wasn’t totally certain she understood. ‘Your parents?’

      He nodded stiffly. ‘They can’t know they have another grandchild. If they found out it would hurt them too much and I don’t want to inflict that sort of pain on them. They’d also descend on me and then you.’ His hand raked through his hair. ‘And I can’t be responsible for the consequences.’

      Sheer relief made her laugh because this so wasn’t a problem. ‘Now who’s being overdramatic? Haim, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve met your family, what …?’ She did a mental count. ‘Three times, so this request is easily met. I’m in Melbourne and they’re in Jindi River so we’re hardly likely to run into each other. I’m making you a solemn promise that your parents will never find out about the baby.’ She stared into his eyes, willing him to say yes.

      He raised his outback-blue eyes to hers, meeting them full on, and deep down inside her something lurched. Confused and unsettled, she dropped her gaze and crossed her legs over the discombobulating sensation that spun there. ‘You’re a sperm donor. Nothing more and nothing less.’

      Only for some odd reason she wasn’t totally certain exactly