home. Even exes reconciling, though he found that type of reunion to be the most wrong-headed and improbable of them all.
Elliot finished his beer and rinsed out the bottle. He was happy his parents were still together, that they had that kind of easy companionship. He wished he lived in a place big enough to have a dog. Then again, Noah was allergic. Elliot wondered if that was a gene Noah had inherited from his biological father, whoever that might be.
He turned off the overhead light. In a window across the way, he could see a candle burning in a small shrine, with clementines, bananas, and orange flowers laid out around a framed photograph of an older woman. A Day of the Dead altar.
He opened his computer and unwrapped a mini Kit Kat. He thought about the research centre where he’d donated sperm in college, and the bizarre resentment he’d felt after breaking up with Keisha. He’d wanted to drive away from his own life then, too—and the donations had paid what felt at the time like a fortune. He’d bought his Impala and enjoyed the freedom that came with a car that was wholly his own. But he wondered now if the donations had been about more than the money. If they were about feeling some simple sense of purpose, something tangible, away from the swirling mists of academia. And maybe, in retrospect, there had been a little perversity in the decision: the knowledge that it would horrify Gretchen and Frank. He didn’t think the research project had had anything to do with artificial insemination, but then again, he didn’t really remember what he’d signed.
He googled Lansdowne research subjects sperm donation, but he didn’t find anything. Then he looked up medical research Western Massachusetts sperm donor fertility, and still nothing. He checked how long frozen sperm could remain viable and then shut off the computer.
He opened another beer.
* * *
Russ was donning his protective gear at the start of their shift. “Every day some new demotion from actual police work.” He slipped on his gloves and snapped a face mask on over his scowl. “Next, we’ll be changing bedpans.”
They were still assigned to Methodist Morningside, where so many health care workers had developed the illness that they were running with a skeleton staff. The mobile units were practical for initial screenings, but at a certain point the very sick needed to be admitted to hospital for treatment. With every new wave of infection, Elliot, like his parents, felt a fresh relief that his sister and nephew had set sail on their trip.
“Cheer up,” he said to his partner. “It’s our last day.”
Their current assignment was to enforce order at the intake desk at Emergency. It turned out that families facing the life-threatening illness of a loved one didn’t always follow the posted regulations regarding not asking the staff about wait times. In most cases, the mere presence of uniformed officers in the waiting room was enough to encourage calm. But their secondary duty was to help ensure the submission of insurance information, as families in extremis were also sloppy at completing paperwork. Elliot knew his mother would take a dim view of armed officers becoming involved in the bureaucratic enforcement of capitalism. He wasn’t crazy about it himself.
Russ grimaced as he directed patients to the stack of clipboards on the counter. “You know, I thought I was okay with maybe being killed in the line of duty,” he said, “but this is a whole other story.”
Elliot adjusted his face mask, which had begun to slip down his nose. “Just follow the protocols and we should be fine.” He said the same thing every day, and every day his partner failed to be comforted.
“Bullshit,” said Russ. “I know what happened to Bryce. I’m praying we get moved to curfew duty next.”
“He’s not dead yet,” said Elliot, though Bryce’s wife had texted to say her husband had taken a turn for the worse. “He could be back at work next week.”
As soon as their shift was over, Russ bolted for the doors. “Let’s ride,” he said, twirling the keys to the patrol car around a finger.
“Clock-watcher,” said Elliot. “I’ll catch up in five minutes.”
He followed the signs around to the main entrance, where he paused to adjust his mask. He took his hat off and rubbed his head. He always began sweating the instant he started moving around inside.
His detour panned out when he spotted Keisha crossing the lobby. He’d seen