Линвуд Баркли - Find You First

“It’s Dr. Gold,” he said. “I need to speak with—”

The person who’d picked up cut him off midsentence. He waited for a pause, then said, “It’s urgent. We need to speak.”

The person at the other end hung up.

Gold was about to pour himself another drink when there was a soft rapping at the door.

“What?” he barked.

The door opened and his assistant, Julie, poked her head in. “Dr. Gold, the Caseys have been waiting for twenty minutes.”

Gold looked blankly at her, trying to remember who the Caseys were. All these people, trying to have kids, there were days when he just wanted to say to them, For Christ’s sake, go adopt . And some of them, God, by the look of them, they really shouldn’t reproduce. Do the world a favor and spare us your progeny.

“The Caseys,” he said.

“From Greenwich? It’s their initial appointment. You haven’t seen them but you have the file.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

At which point Julie strode into the room and came around his desk with the intention of pulling it up onto his screen. As she was reaching for the mouse, Gold noticed that a story about a fire up in Maine was on his screen.

“Stop!” he said, and then did something he’d never done before. He grabbed Julie by the wrist and pushed her away, hard enough that when she hit the wall she sent the doctor’s framed picture of the Golden Gate Bridge swaying on its hook.

She yelped in pain and said, “What’s the matter—”

Gold leapt to his feet, his face full of apology. He couldn’t believe what he’d done.

“I’m sorry, Julie, I’m so sorry. My God, I don’t know what came over me.”

Julie, massaging her wrist, locked eyes with the doctor. It wasn’t a look of fear she gave him but contempt. Then she looked at the screen, wondering what the doctor had not wanted her to see.

The headline read: BATES STUDENT FEARED DEAD IN FIRE. It was accompanied by a headshot of a young man, the name JASON HAMLIN printed underneath.

Gold used the mouse to make the page disappear.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Personal. Julie, honestly, I’m very sorry.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Dr. Gold, but it’s something bad. Canceling appointments, drinking. You think I don’t see, but I do. I’m the one who has to deal with the angry patients, the ones who’ve been counting on you to help them.”

“I know, I know.”

“Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

“Just... send them in. The...”

“Caseys,” Julie reminded him. “Do you want me to bring up the file or not?”

Gold moved out of the way so Julie could access his computer more easily. She hit a few keys and up came a file labeled “Casey, Katerina and Matthew.”

“There,” she said.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

She didn’t answer. She went back to her desk and told the Caseys the doctor would now see them.

Gold put on a cheerful face and came around the desk to greet them. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Katerina and Matthew?”

They nodded. Katerina, midthirties, tiny, with short black hair streaked with silver highlights, said, “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Her husband, Matthew, who looked like he might have played college football at one time but had not kept himself in shape since, extended a hand and said, “We feel real lucky to be able to see you. You’re our last hope.”

“Oh, well, never give up hope,” the doctor said with feigned enthusiasm as he went back to his seat. “I’ve got your file here, but maybe you’d like to tell me your story.”

“Well,” Katerina said, “we’ve been together ten years, got married five years ago, and a year after that we started trying.” Tears welled up and she reached for a tissue from a box on the doctor’s desk. “God, I can’t even get started without losing it.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Take your time.”

“I feel like it’s all my fault,” she said.

Matthew put his arms around her, nearly swallowing her up in the embrace. “I’ve told her it’s no one’s fault. It’s just what it is. And it could just as easily be me, true? That’s one of the things that we have to look into, right?”

Gold was nodding. “That’s very true. First, that it could be either one of you, or both of you, and second, that this is not a question of finding fault.”

“I have some... questions,” Katerina said.

“Of course. Ask anything.”

She hesitated. Her husband said, “She’s a little embarrassed.” He looked at her and asked, “Want me to do it?”

She nodded.

“When they talk about artificial insemination, she doesn’t actually have to do it with—”

“No, no, of course not,” Gold said. “It’s a procedure, conducted here in the office. There are many examples, of course, of couples who engaged the services of someone — a family friend, a brother, perhaps, of the husband with very similar DNA — to complete the act with the woman, but that can lead to a lot of emotional complications. That is definitely not recommended. There can be legal complications, as well.”

“So it’s better not to know who the donor is.”

“You want to know everything you can about the donor, short of a name. Anonymity is guaranteed if that is what the parties wish. But today, there are many avenues to discover the identity of a donor, or for the donor, his offspring. Provided everyone is agreeable.”

Katerina cleared her throat. “I have another question, and I don’t want to offend you in any way, but—”

“Please go ahead.”

“I read a story in the New York Times about a fertility clinic where women thought they were choosing from a wide selection of profiles, but in fact, everyone was being inseminated by... someone at the clinic.” She paused. “Like, the doctor. He was donating his own sperm. To everyone.”

Gold’s face flushed.

“I’m not suggesting anything like that would ever happen here, but how do we actually know? How do we know what we’re, you know, getting?”

Gold pressed his lips together, as though trying to hold back some kind of emotional explosion. Finally, he said, “That would be an outrageous breach of trust between patient and doctor for something like that to occur.”

“But it has happened,” Matthew said. “Right? Just like, sometimes surgeons make a mistake and, you know, amputate the wrong leg or something.”

Gold, simmering, said, “Contributing one’s own sperm would hardly be an accident . That would be a willful act.” He took a moment to compose himself.

“I have offended you,” Katerina said. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Gold said. “Let’s see if we can get things back on track here and—”

His cell phone rang. His head snapped downward to see the screen, and the number that came up.

“Um, I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to take this.”

He grabbed the cell and put it to his ear. He swiveled around in the chair, turning his back on the Caseys, who were looking at each other uncomfortably, wondering whether they should excuse themselves.

“Tell me you’re not really doing this,” Gold whispered angrily. “Tell me it’s not you.”

He hunched over, as if somehow this would give him more privacy from the Caseys. Katerina had stood, but her husband shook his head, giving her a wait and see look.

“You can’t... you can’t expect me to just stand by while this goes on,” the doctor said. “I’ve countenanced a lot of things, things I’m not proud of, things I’ve allowed you to talk me into, but this is going too far.”