Page 34 of The Ampersand Effect

Her thoughts drifted restlessly—Jonah, Grove’s upcoming visit, and, inevitably, Tobin. The loss, the confusion, the quiet ache that still lingered.

She didn’t fight the feelings. Instead, she embraced them— the flicker of hope that had reawakened during her flirtations with Tobin, the reminder of what it felt like to be seen and wanted. She acknowledged that it had awakened a part of herthat had been dormant for years. Maren was exactly right: she had shut down that part of herself in the aftermath of Nora’s death, and she’d forgotten how thoroughly invigorating a chemistry-filled interaction between two people could be.

She felt borderline combustible in Tobin’s presence—and it feltgood. She was determined to accept this simple sign from the universe that she was ready to meet someone, to open her heart, and to trust again. Even if that wasn’t with Tobin, she could choose to be grateful for the stirring Tobin had sparked in her soul.

She could and would choose to see the positive. But first, she needed to accept the loss.

A single tear tracked its way down her cheek as she inhaled, exhaled, and coached herself to do it again.

Eleven

Tobin sighed as she closed her iPad. She was perched on the outdoor sectional, listening to the waves crash against the cliffs below. She’d just sent off a flurry of emails confirming her coursework in Iceland. For the better part of the week, she’d buried herself in distraction— picking up extra shifts, cooking through her emotions, and combing through sperm banks in search of the perfect donor.

None of it was working.

She’d inevitably lose the battle to her thoughts as they drifted back to Grier. Consumed by alternating waves of guilt and desire, Tobin felt powerless to drive her from her mind. She felt like a junkie searching frantically for her next fix, trapped in a mockery of self- imposed rehab without access to her drug of choice.

Grier had left her text on read. Tobin could take the hint—she wasn’t worth the response. And honestly, she couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t sure she’d respond to herself either.

Timing was everything—and theirs was anything but impeccable. Even a year earlier, this tryst might have been something. They might’ve had the space to experiment, to explore what could’ve been. But now, Tobin was committed tohaving a child, and time wasn’t a luxury she could afford to waste.

Her heart was warring with her mind, but her damn ovaries were setting the pace—a ticking time bomb marching steadily toward menopause, each beat narrowing her chance at biological motherhood.

She needed to pick a donor. But every profile she clicked on she faulted. Flaws that didn’t make sense. Flaws that were, realistically, irrelevant. She was being picky because she was scared—and being scared meant she was stalling.

She was afraid of change, and what it would mean. Every decision had a domino effect on the rest of her life. If she had this baby, it would be all the more difficult to pursue a potential partner. If she pursued a partner, she could lose her chance at biological motherhood. Adoption was an option, but she wanted to experience the growth of life inside her—if it was still possible.

And adoption agencies didn’t exactly rally around the queer community, let alone single parents by choice. She could foster, but she knew she wasn’t capable of bringing a child into her home only to surrender them to a forever family that didn’t include her.

Tobin sat forward, burying her face in her hands. Her mind was a storm, two parallel paths ahead of her: an embarkation of the heart and mind. She wanted both, but could choose only one.

Her heart wanted both a partner and a child. Despite her well- adjusted queerness, she still harbored some tendencies entwined in traditionalism, and she’d be lying to herself if she tried to disregard her childhood dream of co-parenting with a loving, supportive partner.

Her mind told her this thing with Grier was only chemicals, a high she should wean herself from and forget ever happened. She should choose the baby—the guaranteed outcome—the path where she didn’t end up broken and alone in a hospitalbed, abandoned by someone who was supposed to love her unconditionally.

It came down to control, and control was a concept Tobin understood acutely. A relationship could end, but parenting was forever. She’d made the right call, ending things before they started. She couldn’t control how things would go with Grier, but she could control her own body. Now she just had to master her heart, keeping it from succumbing to the deep, gnawing ache of the doctor’s absence.

Tobin’s phone rang. She watched the screen light up with the logo for the local dog rescue, Fetch a Friend. She volunteered there regularly—but she wasn’t on the schedule today.

She slid the answer button and raised the phone to her ear, “Hi, Anchor.”

“Tobin. Hi. Any chance you’re not busy, like… now? Ish?” Tobin could hear the desperation in her friend’s tone, her voice rising with each word.

“Um, not particularly. Everything okay?” Tobin hesitated. Anchor didn’t typically call with this frantic edge. Normally, they arranged her shifts in advance. Occasionally, though, Anchor called to request helo transport for dogs that were removed from homes under deplorable conditions. Eddie was in favor of the tax write-off that using the helicopters allowed, and had given Tobin permission to use them as needed.

“Barking Lot Rescue shuttered their doors last night.” Tobin recognized the name—one of the rescues from a neighboring town. Money was always tight in the dog rescue community, but closing without notice was alarming.

“They were months behind on rent and vet bills. They have thirteen dogs in residence as of yesterday, and nowhere to put them. I’ve been up since I got the call at two a.m., trying to rig make-shift kennels and quarantine suites, but I’m running out of time—ten a.m. is the deadline to get the transfersinitiated.” Anchor’s voice was frantic and pitchy. “They’re going to euthanize any dogs they can’t transfer. Can you help?”

“Anchor, yes! I’ll leave right now.” It was a distraction, if nothing else.

“You’re a lifesaver, Tobin. I owe you.”

Tobin could almost feel Anchor’s relief radiating through the phone.

“Do you need anything?

Anchor released an exasperated chuckle. “If you’ve got some coffee already brewed, I wouldn’t say no.”