3Reid
Afew days later, I showed up at the fertility clinic. It was nothing like I expected it to be.
The appearance of the building from the outside was almost like a fitness club, featureless and square and covered in rows of large windows. The walls and floor and ceiling were white, but blue and purple lights kept the atmosphere from being as sterile-seeming as it could have.
I checked in at the front desk. The receptionist acted like she hadn't seen another person in years, enthusiastically chattering while checking out my information. She then bade me take a seat in the waiting room, to wait for my "partner" to arrive. I resisted the urge to correct her because that would only complicate things, and went to go sit down. I felt tired in my soul, having not slept very well the night before.
The waiting room felt not quite right in a way I couldn't describe. Rather than chairs, there were long, low, modern couches in an inoffensive shade of blue. One wall was entirely taken up by an image of blurry greenery, in front of which there were hands holding small piles of black earth. The imagery was probably meant to be comforting, giving an idea of growing life, but it just made me uncomfortable. I didn't want a child growing inside me. I wasn't here to cherish a beautiful, hopeful time in my life with someone I loved.
I was here for the money.
No one else was there. Most people in the world had already accepted that they would need to adopt if they wanted a little one in their life. What with fertility being at an all time low, not even modern medicine could fix everything. For a time, the adoptions were very good news. Bloodlines mixed. Prejudices went down as families discovered that peoples of other races were just like themselves. Word spread. Things were good.
But all that had been going on when I was just a boy, before I even reached double digits. Good things don't last forever.
With fewer children being born, adoptions became very difficult. And the new generation of adopted children were intermarrying with people of low fertility, which turned out to have a high chance of being passed on genetically. Things were even worse than before.
No one knew what the future had in store, but birth rates were dropping so fast that the population of the world now stood at just over six billion. It seemed that we might, someday in the future, simply cease to exist as a species.
Haley hopped up on the couch beside me, breaking me out of my gloomy thoughts. She cuddled into the arm of the couch, tucking herself into the nook as she liked to do. She had a children's book in her hand, the pages stained and wrinkled from use. I kept myself from making a face at all the germs she was touching, because at least she seemed to be enjoying herself.
I squirmed a little and adjusted my position on the uncomfortable couch, watching the door to the clinic. I wanted it to open so I could get this over with. At the same time, I would be fine if it never opened at all. I could hardly believe I was doing this. My heart was pounding, almost shaking my entire body.
I curled my hands into fists and waited.
And waited, and waited some more. I kept shifting around, changing positions. At first it was because it was uncomfortable, but at around the thirty minute mark, I started getting angry. I'd already signed that damn contract James had sent along with that slimy lawyer dressed in an ill fitting suit. There was a whole lot of money on the line. If James was as serious about this as he seemed, then where the hell was he?
Probably slipped his mind. He's moved on to something new already.
That was James for you. He changed his mind like the wind, going in whatever direction was the most appealing at any given time.
