The Paternity Test by Michael Lowenthal

Author:Michael Lowenthal [Lowenthal, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Wisconsin Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

thirteen

Our next try with Debora also failed. This despite her conscientious diet of Robitussin (two teaspoons, three times a day, eight days straight), designed to thin her vaginal secretions. Despite, too, our method’s fine-tuning: Stu did his business now straight into the Instead Cup, not a drop lost in the specimen cup or syringe; Debora stayed in bed, hips high, for two hours, then kept the Instead Cup, for two further hours, deep inside, snug against her cervix.

So diligent, so loyal to the cause, our surro was. I was glad I’d thought to bring her something from New York: a T-shirt from the zoo, emblazoned with a two-toed sloth, upside-down, smiling. Hang Tight! I’d bought the same, in kids’ size, for Paula. “I know they’re dumb,” I’d said, handing Debora the gifts. (I did this while Stu was in the bathroom, getting busy; Danny, in a heads-up bid to avert a scene like last time’s, had whisked Paula out to the back yard.) “But hey,” I said, “they’re Brazilian. The guy in the zoo shop told me. The sloths, not the shirt— that’s from China.”

“A sloth . . . well. Why not bring me something nice? A toucan?”

“I asked for a toucan. No, I did! They—”

Feigning indignation, she hurled the shirt aside. But later, when she summoned me and Stu back to the bedroom (smells of sweat and cough syrup muggy in the air), she wore it like a winning team’s colors. “I love this. I love,” she said. “Danny, find the camera.”

“What?” he said. “Seriously?”

“Paula should wear hers, too. Go and get her changed. Make it quick.”

I’d worried, when Stu and I agreed to use a surro, about how we’d honor such a debt. The moral, not financial, obligation. But Debora’s outsize joy, now, for just a silly shirt, made me think the most valuable thing we were giving her was treating her as someone worthy of value.

Debora, from her perch in bed, caught us up on news, the most important piece of which was: she had hosted a Seder! The very frst she’d hosted for the Neumans. “You see, Stu?” she said. “See how you inspire me?” Danny’s entire clan had come from Brockton for the evening, and everyone assured her she had done a lovely job. “Next year in Hyannis,” they all joked. The funniest part: Paula had actually liked to eat the horseradish, the way it made her eyes swell with tears. “A Jew, no? Even at her age. It’s in the genes!”

And how, she asked, was our Seder? A nice trip to New York?

Shit, I thought. Here we go again. I was already up to my chin with telling Stu I was sorry: Sorry I spoke too soon. I should have let you tell your folks. I know I should have chosen different words.

“Go ahead, explain,” he said. “Tell her about what happened. You’re the one who’s so good at divulging.”

“I don’t know, Stu. Maybe it’s better if—”

“No,” he said. “Go on.”

Fine, I did. Described the Nadlers’ protest of our plan (omitting mention of grandkid funds, and also Dr.

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