Page 31

“Sit,” Grace said, patting the space on the sofa next to her. “I want to talk.”

Caz chewed the inside of her mouth before nodding and finally sitting down. “Okay.” Both feet were planted firmly on the ground, legs apart, elbows resting on them with her hands clasped tightly together.

“Can you look at me, please?” Grace asked gently, aware this wasn’t the easiest of conversations. When Caz took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, but sat back and turned to face her, Grace smiled. “I know it’s hard, and last time was…upsetting.”

“Heartbreaking…watching you cry like that, it—” She breathed deeply again and stared up at the ceiling.

“I know.” Grace touched her arm and got her attention once more. “I know, and I hate that we were both so disappointed. But I want to try again. And I know it’s expensive—”

“It’s not the money,” Caz said quietly.

Grace sighed. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” Caz shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I want a family with you. I just…if it doesn’t work again, then what?”

“I don’t know, try again?”

“How long do we keep trying? How many heartbreaks can you take—can I watch?” Caz took her hand. “Last time, we were so caught up in the excitement of the potential, that we didn’t think about the reality of failing and now we know, now we can’t ignore that, so this time we need to be more prepared for all outcomes.”

Grace nodded. “I agree. It’s been over six months, and I think, with the wedding and everything all so perfect between us, I’m ready. We said we’d talk about it again after the wedding, but if I’m honest, I’ve been ready to talk about it for weeks.”

“Alright,” Caz said, and couldn’t not smile when Grace’s face lit up. “Compromise: We speak to the doctor and book the procedure, and then we go on holiday and forget all about it for a week. And when we get back, if you’re still adamant you want to do it, we’ll do it.”

Grace shook her head. “I want to do it. I’m adamant now, but—”

“It’s not that simple, though, is it?”

“No, we’d need to find another donor.”

Caz nodded. “Yes, and this time we have to be realistic.”

“Geriatric eggs,” Grace mumbled. That was what they’d been told by the clinic: A lower chance of pregnancy due to Grace’s age.

They’d left that meeting feeling insulted. They weren’t that old and already had geriatric labels.

Caz smiled sadly. “Thirty percent success rate felt bigger then.”

“One in three chance. I think it’s worth it.”

“I just…” Sliding to her knees on the floor, Caz held Grace’s hand more tightly. “I worry what might happen to you if it fails. I want…I want you to be happy, and I want…I want this to be everything we want it to be, but if it doesn’t work, I need to know you’re going to be okay.”

“I’ll be alright.” Grace touched her face. “I want to do this. It’s why we got married.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to use the clinic again.” She smiled at Caz’s confused face. “Hear me out. I found a website that explains it all. You get the donor, and you have them checked out, and then you can arrange to do it yourself at home.”

“But—”

“I just want to be at my most relaxed. And I wasn’t relaxed at the clinic. It was all so sterile and I had this stranger between my legs, and I’d just like it to be more natural next time. Millions of women get pregnant every day, and I just…maybe the donation being frozen was part of the issue and we just need something…fresher. ”

Caz grimaced at that. “Right, so we find a donor, they come over, and then you’d just do it yourself with a turkey baster?”

Grace laughed. “No, we’d get a donor, get him checked out at the clinic still—I’m not avoiding that part—and then we either have him come over or meet in a hotel. He does the business and then…you’d do it.”

Caz almost fainted. “You what?”

“Which part are you having trouble with?” Grace asked, chuckling still.