Chances Aren't by Luke Young Read Free Book Online Page B

to be miserable."
    "I know. I know." I eat a French fry and shrug. "These are pretty good."
    Greg takes a big bite of his burger as I pause a moment to think. "You know, maybe I should have let Emily use Damien's sperm."
    "What?" He nearly spits out his food.
    "That guy from her office that you hate?" After wiping his mouth, he shoots me an incredulous look.
    "It wasn't like he was actually going to sleep with her or anything."
    "I don't care. Imagine what it would be like raising the child of a guy like that. I mean, you told me about the way he was constantly coming on to her."
    "He was tall and athletic— he still has his fucking hair and everything. If we'd had a son, it would have been great to have him come from good stock like that, you know?"
    "Wait a minute." He frowns. "Didn't Damien give your wife a ride home one day and he actually had his dick out of his pants when he dropped her off?"
    "Yeah, but it was big, or so I was told..." I widen my eyes. "... and again for a boy, that would be—"
    "Would you listen to yourself?" Greg lifts his hands up in defeat.
    "Okay, you're right. I do hate that bastard. I was just saying, hypothetically if I did allow her to use his contribution and we happened to have a boy, there are worse things in life than springing from the gene pool of a guy with a full head of hair, hung like a horse and with the balls to pull a stunt like that in a moving car."
    "Yeah, but your son would have been an asshole."
    "Maybe." I let out a long slow breath. "Just forget it."
    He returns to his burger as I look out the window and sigh.
    After our mediocre meal, we climb back in the car for the ninety minute drive back to the office.
    Greg says, "Hey, if you need a couple weeks off to deal with all this, please take it."
    "I'm fine, really."
    "You can even use your sick time since you're really—"
    "Has anyone ever told you that you're the best boss that's ever lived?"
    He smiles. "Please take the time if you need it."
    "I will."
    As he turns on to the highway, I start thinking about Emily and how badly she wanted to be a mother— loving and nurturing, she's clearly perfect for the part. I think I would've made a pretty good father myself. I was looking forward to playing sports and teaching my children all that I could, but our failure was nowhere near the crushing blow to me as it was to her.
    After all the years of trying to get pregnant, first just the two of us and then later with help, lots of help, when we finally threw in the towel, we probably should have gotten a divorce. Back then, at thirty five, Emily was still young enough to find a new husband and fulfill her dreams. Looking back, it escapes me what kept us together all these years because, in effect, we did give up on our marriage, we were just too lazy to file the necessary paperwork and divide up our DVD collection.

Chapter 7

    Returning to my desk at work, I jump right on Facebook and search for Laura Adams. The search returns some similar names, but after five minutes of following up I get nowhere. I perform a Google search and find a link to an address record on a site trying to sell me some ridiculous people finder service. The listing displays information about a previous address in Greenbelt, Maryland which convinces me that I've probably stumbled onto the correct record. Also listed are names of people in her family. Searching my memory, I do recall that Laura had a sister and when I see the name Barbara, I'm convinced now that I've found what I'm looking for.
    Flipping back to my Facebook window, I search for Barbara Adams and get a hit. Barbara Adams Miller age forty eight. I pull up her page and review the public information that's available. She's married to David Miller has two kids and lives in Annapolis, Maryland. Clicking on her list of one hundred fifty eight friends, I pour over it searching for anyone named Laura, since maybe she's now listed under her married name, but even after all that work I come up empty.