text: She looked around her third floor apartment and imagined all the changes she would have to make if he accepted her request. She wondered if she’d have to move to a bigger house with a backyard and a bigger kitchen, or if her coach was comfortable enough. She liked the building on Falcon Street the first time she set her eyes on it; it was particularly refreshing that the window in the sitting room overlooked the street. It was a normal street but watching people live life on the street for five years was her favorite thing to do; the old lady who every morning walked across the street to the bakery gripping her walker with her dog strutting ahead of her then stopping mid crossing to sniff at the zebra crossing lines; the young boy who despite his mother’s pleas always ran circling all the posts and jumping over the bins as they went towards the corner library; and Mister Jo who sat on the bus stop bench reading the morning paper and waving the buses away as they slowed down. She had asked him in an email but he had not responded yet. She had been trying not to overthink but she was afraid he might say no. The boxes didn’t check but she wasn’t trying to check them, she had never been restricted by ticking the boxes where her heart was involved. Time was running out and the doctor told her she has six months left. She’s been on a marathon, getting the timing right, the bucket list done and passing all the tests. In the last five years she travelled to twenty one countries, visited the yogis in India, the Taj Mahal, the Amazon and the pyramids. She was planning her next promotion at the 100 billion dollar advertising company where she was the head of strategic management when the doctor put a different plan on her plate. She always thought she had time and options. After all she’s always been in perfect control. Why couldn’t she be normal and do things like other people did? Why did she always want things that were out of reach, for others, but always seemed attainable to her. Her mother had begged her to consider putting her busy schedule aside, her father had reassuringly said, ‘ your time will come’. She was a daddy’s girl so her incline was to take her father’s advice. Now her mother’s words were haunting her as she looked at the results the doctor had handed over to her. So she hatched a plan, but like her business plans she needed a willing team, time and sacrifice. But it wasn’t a business strategy she needed now, it wasn’t a corner office or a conference call to pitch to potential clients. That has always been the easy part in her life. She was a born leader, a natural influencer and had an acumen for business that was unparalleled in her field. But why was the one thing she needed most now so unnerving? She suddenly felt like a rookie, a new recruit. She remembered feeling more confident as a junior associate in the company 10 years ago. Her parents were progressive in many ways but conservative in particular areas just as she felt now considering her options. She considered sending a follow up email then recanted that idea. She picked up the phone to ask if he’d received the email but thought that move had desperation painted in red. She decided to give it a month then make a move. A month and a week passed and she thought maybe she’d start considering other options but that would be her life secret. She’d lie and tell the conservative story that her parents and their people would accept without being the subject of scorn for the rest of her life. Her extended family already gossiped about her so if they found out about the truth they’d roast an already burned chicken. Monday morning routines have been in place all her working life and this Monday was not exceptional. Trouser suit, bag, coffee and traffic was a norm she never broke. Once settled in the back seat, good mornings said and on her way to the office she opened her emails and almost dropped her coffee. He’d replied! She couldn’t open it, not now, she decided to wait until she was home alone. That way she could cry, jump for joy and nobody would know. The clock’s tick tock on her corner office wall sounded bizarre, her office assistant seemed slow today and her work went on a hiatus _unlike Monday. She stared at the email notification guessing what he’d written, how he’d let her down easy and how he might have written, ‘I couldn’t risk destroying our family’s existing relationship’. Because he’d be cordial like that, tactful and measured, that’s why she had chosen him in the first place. Monday was conspiring with her mind to read the email and despite her best restraint, she clicked open. Dear Henrietta, How are you going? It’s been a while and I’ve been meaning to get in touch but busy gets in the way_you know how it is! I received your email and was a bit surprised by your request though pleasantly so. I remembered how I pursued you but you were so focused on your career you said you didn’t have time for a relationship. Have you changed your mind? You said you wanted me to father your child with no strings attached, I wondered what that meant. After thinking about it for a while now, I’ve decided If I can’t have you by my side then I’d be happy to have a child with you. So, Yes! Please call me and let’s plan to meet soon. Always, Mark. Henrietta was tearing when she read the email, smiling when she thought about having a child with him. She could now refer to ‘the baby’s father’ in conversations with her nosy relatives and not worry about them spreading rumors about her having a test tube baby! Her parents would understand her need to have a child without a marriage but how could she explain a lab baby?