People wonder what it's like growing up as a twin. I wonder what it's like growing up as a singleton. In fact, I wonder what it's like when both twins are the same sex. Because Cindy and I had each other, I was always comfortable around girls and she was always comfortable around boys. After all the "playing doctor" when we were little and other late-night exchanges when were in our early teens, we each had a pretty good idea about how the other sex's body looked and worked.
As it turned out, Cindy's interest in male bodies was mostly intellectual. She dated boys, early on, but found it frustrating or just annoying. She always had better relationships with her female friends. So, when she confided to me that she thought she was lesbian, it wasn't much of a surprise. I think the idea upset her more than it did me, until she had some time to get used to the idea.
We stayed close through college. Even though we went to school in different states, we weren't too far for weekend visits. Fairly often, she or I would bring a girlfriend along for the weekend. Most of her girlfriends seemed shy around me, and one had a real snarling allergy to men. Laura lasted, though. She was good-looking, in the way that just about every woman in her twenties is, and the two made a great couple. Best of all, Laura got along with me from the start. I wasn't surprised, in fact I was honored to be invited to their wedding, a state or two away where they could legally marry. It made me happy to see them happy.
We kept exchanging visits after she graduated and I went to grad school. Even though Laura was always welcome in my place, I rarely brought anyone when I visited in those days. My program was pretty intense, so I dated only occasionally and casually. Meeting the family can be kind of a big step, not one for any of the relationships I had back then.
After a couple of years, Laura meshed well with the twin closeness between Cindy and me. The three of us spent lots of late nights, drinking too much wine, solving the world's problems and sharing our visions of our futures.
In talking about the future, kids came up more than once. We usually let it go with some glowing (and wildly inaccurate) predictions about parenthood, brushed away with "but that's for later." Over time, though, Cindy and Laura got into those discussions a lot more, and with realistic details like kid-care arrangements, school, and interrupted careers. I just listened. I got the feeling that something more important lay under the surface than either would come out and admit.
I'm wrong a lot. They knew just how serious their discussion of raising children had become, even if I didn't. As a result, one of our late-night talks startled me when Cindy said, "Laura and I want to start a family." She was looking at Laura when she said it. Even though the words were for me, something big and warm passed between them.
After coughing on a half-swallowed gulp of wine, I said, "That's wonderful!" I meant it, too. I imagined that they'd make great parents. "Are you going to adopt?"
"Only if we have to. We'd really like to have children of our own, though."
This raised an obvious problem. I answered noncommittally, trying to prod a little more information out of them "Okay, ..."
Laura sat up at that point with a serious look on her face. "We've looked into sperm banks. They're pretty good about screening donors and matching the donor's appearance to the mother's." She held Cindy's hand at this point. "But that seems so impersonal. I want my baby to be Cindy's, not some stranger's. Your genes are the closest to hers. And you're family."
I set my wine glass down, not quite trusting my hand. "You want me to be the father."
"Yes." Cindy and Laura glanced at each other with a nervous smile, and I saw their hands tighten together.
"I'm honored, really, but ..."
Laura cut me off with fast, nervous chatter. "We know your medical history -- it's as good as any around. You're smart and in good shape, your genes are just fine. And we won't hit you for child support either. This is going to be our family, our responsibility. We just need help with one little thing, Alex, and that's getting a baby started."
I stood up, walked over took her face in my hands, and kissed her forehead. "Laura, and you too Cindy, this is the biggest compliment I've ever had. It's kind of a big thing, though. Can I think about it?"
The look in their faces turned ambiguous, as if they weren't sure whether to be disappointed or not. Laura spoke: "Sure, Alex. Take all the time you need. If you aren't completely comfortable with the idea, we'll find another way."
"Thanks. And what about you, Cindy?"'
She answered warily, "It's your right to say no, of course."
"Fair enough. It's late, and I want to think this through. Goodnight, ladies. Let's talk in the morning."
I retreated to their guest room and closed the door.
We did talk in the morning, and on into the afternoon. I wasn't too concerned about the support issue -- they both had much better incomes than my student stipend, and I believed them when they said I wasn't on the hook for support. Laura was and is one of the most honest people I know, her word was plenty for me, and Cindy wouldn't treat me that badly. My big question was, what would I be toward the child? I couldn't feel right just dumping a semen sample and walking away from the result. They pointed out that I would be an uncle any way, and they'd would love to have me keep up a relationship with the child. It wasn't an easy conversation for any of us, but we all wanted to understand how things would stand between us. Finally I said, "OK. Laura, Cindy, I'll do it, just let me know how you want to go about it."
Cindy piped up, "She'll be at the right part of her cycle in about two weeks. Could you come back then?"
I arrived Friday night, as usual for our weekend visits, with a bottle of wine. Laura greeted me at the door. Like I said, she's a good-looking lady. She and Cindy are well matched physically, but Laura is a bit curvier than Cindy, and a little shorter. Her skin is a half-tone lighter than Cindy's, and her sandy hair is just a bit longer and thicker than Cindy's short, dark shag. Laura offered a warm smile, as always, but with something a little shy and uncertain around the edge. I guess she was thinking about the reason for this weekend's visit, as I was.
I gave her a brief hug, as usual, then held out the bottle of wine. "Where do you want this?"
"It's a white? I'll put it in the fridge." She called upstairs, "Cindy, Alex is here."
"I'll be right down."
