“True.”
She continues, “Besides, if you meet this guy and you decide you don’t like him, or you don’t want him to be the father of your baby, can’t you just find somebody else?”
“Doesn’t that feel weird?”
Ellen rolls her eyes. “This is all kind of weird, Audrey. And since it’s weird, there aren’t any rules. It’s not like you’re cheating on this guy.”
“Yeah.” I take another sip of my wine. “Should I go for it?”
“I am so not the one to make that decision. No way am I going to decide who’s going to be your baby daddy. If you want to give it a shot, then go for it. If you don’t, then keep trying for another match.”
“I honestly have no idea.”
She shrugs. “I will say, even without his face in the pictures I would definitely tap that.”
A few people nearby at the bar look at us and I blush. I hadn’t considered what talking about this in a public place might sound like. But that doesn’t stop Ellen.
“In fact,” she says, “if you decide not to go with him, see if he has a Tinder profile and send him my way.”
“Ellen,” I say, laughing.
“What?”
“You’re insatiable,” I mumble into my glass of wine.
Her grin as is as wide as the Hudson River. “And proud of it.”
I take a couple minutes to think, and the more I do, the more what Ellen said resonates with me. I am not looking for a date, a lover, or husband. Treating the situation like that will only lead to confusion. “I think I’m going to text him,” I say. “And tell him that I think it’s better if we don’t know much about each other. If he responds negatively, then I know that he’s not the right person for this job. And if he’s fine with it, then I think I’ll give it a shot.”
“That’s my girl,” Ellen says. “Go get some.”
I roll my eyes again. “You know that’s not why I’m doing it.”
“I know, but nobody said that trying to get pregnant couldn’t also be fun.”
I pull out my phone and open the app. The cursor at the bottom of our conversation blinks, daring me to type. How do I say this?
I think it’s better if we don’t get to know each other too well. I’m not interested in a relationship right now, that’s the whole reason I’m doing this. I think going out and getting to know each other would feel too similar to dating. So unless you can get me pregnant and be willing to step out of the picture, this isn’t going to work. I hope you understand.
“There,” I say. “All sent.” I put my phone away so I won’t know if he responds right away.
Ellen raises her glass to me. “I’m wishing for a successful union to fertilize those eggs.” Of course she says it way too loudly, and I’m blushing again because people are definitely noticing.
I finish off my glass of wine, and she finishes hers too. “Should we get absolutely sloshed?” she asks. “It might be the last time you get to for a while.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think that’s exactly what I need.”
3
By the time I get home, I’m both sufficiently and pleasantly drunk. Not so gone that I’ve lost the sense of myself, but I’m definitely in that happy phase where the alcohol erases all of my worries and concerns. My phone died in my purse while I was at the bar, and I collapse onto my bed and plug it in.
It takes a few minutes to boot up, but when it does I see that I have a new notification from Heartility.
I open it, and I have to focus hard on the screen in order to read the message.
That’s fine. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll set up the time and place and let you know.
There’s nothing else. I feel at once a sense of relief and surprise. For some reason, I thought he might have a problem with it. I guess I should have known better, considering what the app is made for. But still, everything about this experience so far has surprised me. I should move forward knowing that. Expect to be surprised.
Great. Look forward to hearing from you.
I send it before I can second-guess, even drunk, I suddenly feel like that was way too formal. Too late now.
Now all I can do is wait. I let myself drift into sleep, imagining the stranger’s face.
* * *
A day passes, and then two. My mysterious stranger said he’d set up the time and place so I don’t want to bug him about it, but at the same time I’m wondering what’s taking so long. I find myself going back and looking at his profile over and over trying to catch details that I missed the first time around. Or the hundredth time around.