 Today was one of those days - not a cloud in the sky, a day sweet and pure. The air was warm and fresh;sea birds glided by on wing. Could there be a more beautiful place on earth? So many days had come and gone. So many hopes and dreams fulfilled - so many not. Elaine pulled herself back to the present. She was aware of what her daughter was saying and the words fueled her own thoughts. "My little girl is so grown up. Twenty years, and now she is going to be married." From across the table, Angela focused on her mother's eyes. She was annoyed that her Mother did not appear to be paying attention to what she was saying. She had worked hard on this speech. It was intended to convince her mother to aid her in the quest. She now wondered if she was going to have to repeat the whole thing. "Mother, are you listening to me?" "Sorry dear," her mother replied, shaking her head and smiling, "Yes, I have been listening. I have heard every word and understand completely." The years of managing her business had made Elaine strong and sure. They had also strengthened not only her ability to hear the spoken word but, more importantly, to understand what was really being said. She noted once again the similarities between motherhood and business management and believed the skills learned in one were almost interchangeable with the other. The years had been kind to Elaine. Now in her fifties, there were only hints of grey in her hair and a few subtle character wrinkles on her face. She carried herself proudly, exuding confidence, her inner strength evident. Her very presence had the ability to calm those around her. Elaine smiled sweetly at her daughter. "I was just thinking how proud of you I am. How proud your father would have been." She hesitated, "You won't be able to find him, you know. They keep that information confidential." Elaine took another bite of her lunch, using this theatrical pause for effect. "Your father and I knew that when we decided to go ahead with the process. All donors are kept confidential. Your father and I wanted a child - you - so badly but we couldn't do it on our own. We made the choice only after a great deal of careful consideration." She paused again. She wanted to give weight to every sentence. "The man, whoever he was, was a sample in a test tube, a donor - nothing more." Elaine was deliberately trying to make the sperm donor sound insignificant. She wanted to downplay any influence he might have in their lives. She wanted the thought of him to be of as little importance to Angela as a subtle change in the direction of the wind. She took another sip of her wine, fully aware of just how incredibly significant he really was. Without him her daughter simply wouldn't exist. However, the road Angela was proposing to travel would only cause her pain. It was folly, and Elaine couldn't stand the thought of the hurt this pursuit could cause her daughter. Elaine returned her gaze to Angela and forced her voice to be calm and quiet, "Please, Angela, let it go. You're getting married soon. That's all that should be on your mind right now. You're building your life. Please, leave the past in the past where it belongs." Angela had chosen a spring wedding more for its symbolism than anything else. She believed that spring was the time of new beginnings. All the hope and promise of new life lay ahead - new promise, new hope, and life reborn. Philip was a dozen years older than Angela. Elaine had expressed concern about this age difference on many occasions, feeling it would eventually come between them. She felt Angela was only just beginning to experience life while Philip was well on his way. However, Angela simply didn't see it that way. She was confident of his love for her. Her love for him was equally genuine and complete. She saw herself with him in complete happiness for the rest of her life. That was the only thing that mattered. Whatever life threw at her, as long as there was that special someone beside her, she knew anything could be overcome. Angela was sitting with her hands cupped in front of her face, her elbows resting squarely on the table. She was frustrated at not being able to convince her mother to help her. She had no idea how deeply her mother really felt, nor how much she really wanted to know about him also. Elaine pointed at her daughter with her fork, "Finish your lunch. I have to get back to the office." Angela looked down at her half eaten meal and pushed it aside. "I'm not really hungry," she said and took a sip of her wine instead. She glanced aimlessly around the restaurant. The place was filled with happy couples and families enjoying the afternoon and she wondered about their stories. Her gaze wandered off shore. A small sailboat was doing its dance in harmony with the rise and fall of the sea. Angela recalled the many lunches she and her mother had enjoyed in this spot, at this table. The fresh sea air and the sweet caress of the warm ocean breeze added a special flavor to these times. Life is so precious, so precious, she thought, "But… who am I?" Angela's eyes returned to her mother, "You're right of course, Mom." She knew that once her mother had shut the door, that door was shut. There was no point pursuing this conversation any further. "I'm sure he is married, with grown children. He has a life out there somewhere. Why should I complicate things for him? He shot into a sample cup, picked up a few bucks, and here I am." Elaine hid her shock at such a cold remark coming from her daughter. She was now certain that her daughter was set on her course. Angela had to know, but Elaine knew she couldn't support her in this pursuit. Angela would have to find her own way, and learn for herself the futility of her desire. She would have to experience the pain of failure on her own. Elaine felt sorrow for the pain her sweet child would soon experience. "Would you like to ride back with me, dear?" Elaine asked as she handed her credit card to the waiter. "No thanks, Mom. I have some things to do in town. I'll see you at home later?" Angela knew the name of the clinic. Today was the day. "Yes dear. I should be home around seven." Angela smiled warmly at her mother as she got up to leave. Elaine gently but firmly clutched her daughter's hand. She had one last chance, "Sweetheart, I love you more than life itself, you know that. Trust me on this. I know you very well. Let this go. No good can come of it. Your Dad, God rest his soul, and I are your parents. We are your mother and father. We are your family." Angela looked down at her mother and saw the pain in her eyes. She smiled sweetly and covered her mother's hand with her own. "I know. I love you too, Mom. It ends here." Angela's voice was gentle, calm, almost convincing. Her training in sales - make the prospect believe - came through. Her mother had taught her well. Angela left the restaurant thinking how much she hated lying to her mother. Elaine hadn't been convinced. As she sat alone at the table her mind wandered back to a time long ago when life was so different. Everything was in front of her then. She had been so happy, so full of hope, so full of youthful exuberance. She had had no cares in the world. He hadn't been anyone special to her. Just a man serving drinks in the campus pub. Like so many others at the time, he was working to put himself through business school. She had seen him elsewhere on campus, even in some of her own classes. He was, however, just a name and a face. She had thought him attractive, but that was all. The first time he saw her, the story was somewhat different. He fell deeply in love with her at that first glance. He had known immediately that he would love her for the rest of his life. He was also painfully aware that she didn't know he existed. He would change that. It had taken him a little time to work up the courage to make his first move but once started, he pursued her relentlessly. It had become almost an obsession for him. Eventually, she allowed him the privilege of her company for a single night out. That was all he needed - the relationship grew to the inevitable sacred union before their God. Things had been so uncomplicated then. They had lived simply, working side by side, developing a business to support themselves. They had nurtured the business as if it was a living being and it fulfilled all their monetary and many of their spiritual needs. Under their careful guidance, the business grew and prospered, and along with it, their love for each other. In time, as they became more comfortable and secure, they decided they needed a child to share their lives. The topic had been discussed with more and more frequency until it became an obsession. Unsure if it was personal will or age old instinct, they knew they must have a child. While their efforts to achieve their goal were enjoyable, they remained unsuccessful. After many tests and much emotional upheaval, they decided to seek outside help. Many options were available but, because of the confidentiality, the decision was made to use a nameless sperm donor. The process was involved, almost surreal, but successful and, in time, a beautiful baby girl arrived in their lives. He had been totally absorbed with his new little girl and could hardly believe the depth of love he could feel for another. His desire to make everything perfect for her drove him until he was almost crazed. In the end, his hopes and dreams were stolen from him by his own body; his heart gave out. Elaine remembered how she had laid him to his final rest, in the dirt and alone. She had stood by his grave with their young daughter at her side. The two looked at the cold wood and earth and Elaine thought of all the things that would never be. Their little angel was devastated. "Where had her daddy gone? Why did he leave her? What had she done?" Elaine decided on that day that, even though the world would be cruel, Angela would always know the truth – she would see to that. It was then Elaine made the decision to devote her life to this little girl. Everything she would be, everything she would do, would be for Angela. She was the only thing in life that mattered now. Elaine's mind reluctantly returned to the present. She realized her memories seemed jaded and disjointed, as if they were a tale relayed to her by someone else. However, even though she wanted to forget and leave the past in the past where it belonged, she knew the story was hers. It was time to go back to work. As she left the restaurant, she thought of her daughter and her fiancé. Will he be good to her? Will he always love and protect her? She knew she would always be there for them. It was her duty. * * * * * Philip hung up the phone, looked around his office and smiled. He loved the power he possessed. He had told his decorators that the office needed to demonstrate his power and his success - he was pleased with the job they had done for him. The walls were paneled in mahogany. Bookshelves with leaded glass doors lined one wall. The room was filled with exquisite pieces of art and literature. Many of the books were his; he had read them many times. The other impressive titles were purchased simply to fill the remaining space. He had never read those, and had no intention of doing so. The art chosen for him was unique. On the walls hung original oil paintings by well known artists, but again, he didn't buy any of it. He didn't have an opinion on those pieces. To his friends, he referred to them as his pictures. On one side of the office was an arrangement of four couches surrounding an oversized coffee table. He used that part of the office to entertain and to conduct informal meetings. All the formal meetings were held in the boardroom down the hall. His desk, an ornate hand carved mahogany and dark walnut piece, had been custom made for him by an old world craftsman. It was stunning. It was the only piece in the whole room that he had specified himself, and was the only piece he really loved. It housed his computer, telephone, a writing area, a Tiffany desk lamp, and a few personal pieces including a beautiful photograph of Angela in an elaborate gold frame. The whole office had been set up to impress and intimidate, and it made him feel important. In reality, he was very much a "down to basics" kind of a guy. He was just as at home sitting by a campfire as he was sitting as chairman in the boardroom. Of the two, he preferred the campfire. However, he believed the façade was necessary for the business he had built from the ground up. He had often considered business to be like war – every day a new battle must be fought and won. He always felt it was him against them and he knew he had to win, at any cost. Of late, the numbers were out of line and profits were down; he had to cut back. With one telephone call fifty people were out of work. He fully appreciated the significance of what he had done and was aware of the impact on the displaced employees and their families. It was not a decision he made lightly but when all the data was analyzed, he had no other choice. It was the only thing he could do. Once he had made the decision, he didn't have any trouble doing the deed. He didn't feel any emotional involvement; he really didn't care one way or the other. The buzzer on the phone disturbed his thoughts. He picked it up, "Yes, Melody?" Melody's voice sounded as sweet as her name, "Mr. Maxwell from the Child Development Center is here. He would like to see you, if you can spare ten minutes." Philip thought to himself, "What the hell does he want? The presentation is in thirty minutes. Can't it wait 'til then?", then he spoke into the phone, his voice was masked pleasantness, "Certainly, I always have time for him." Philip hung up the phone, annoyed. He got up and started walking to the door which opened as Melody escorted a sheepish Mr. Maxwell into the office. Philip's smile was pleasant as he greeted Mr. Maxwell, thinking, "This guy could really stand to lose a couple hundred pounds. What a pig." Philip offered his hand, "Mr. Maxwell, nice to see you as usual. Would you like a coffee?" asked Philip, gesturing to the couch area. Mr. Maxwell shook his head, obviously nervous at being in Philip's office. "Thank you. No. I don't want to take up too much of your time." Philip smiled at him then dismissed Melody with a nod. She closed the door and Philip sat on the couch across from Mr. Maxwell, his smile fixed. "So, what can I do for you, Mr. Maxwell?" Mr. Maxwell cleared his throat nervously before he spoke. "Mr. Evans, as you are aware, I'm the Chairman of the Board for the Center. I just wanted to thank you in person before the presentation. Your contribution to the Center is so very generous, I can't thank you enough. I can assure you the money will be well spent. It will do much good." Philip thought to himself, cynically, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." His jaw started to feel the twinge of the forced smile as he responded, "Not at all, Mr. Maxwell. It's the least I can do. I always like to help. You people do such good work. I've been very fortunate and I just wanted to give something back." Mr. Maxwell nodded as if he understood what Philip was all about, "It was such a nice idea to hold the press conference for the presentation. It will give the Center much needed exposure. Hopefully more people like you will come forward to help." Philip smiled at that, "I certainly hope so. That's why I thought we should do it this way." Philip had notified the Center a few days earlier telling them that he wanted to make the contribution and that it would be in the form of a personal cheque. He had thought it would look better than if it had simply been another corporate sponsorship. It had been Philip's idea that they make a presentation of a Certificate of Appreciation to him. It was his idea that they do the presentation in front of the media, and he had assured them that the amount of his contribution would be substantial enough to get the media's attention. He had convinced the Center that it would be great publicity for them and that he would like to help them in anyway he could. He had been very convincing. He could see himself making the exchange in front of the cameras and knew he would look good. Philip continued, pleasantly, "Was there anything else, Mr. Maxwell?" Mr. Maxwell got up as if on cue and smiled at Philip, "No. Thank you. That was all. I just wanted to thank you personally." He reached out his hand to Philip. Philip took it, "It was a pleasure as always, Mr. Maxwell. I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes?" Mr. Maxwell nodded politely as he headed for the door. Philip watched him leave. It hadn't been necessary for this man to come and see him personally. It was, after all, only money. However, Philip did feel good that the money was going to be appreciated and useful, although that was merely an ancillary benefit. The publicity he was going to receive from his donation was the truly important factor. The value of publicity was far more than just the amount of the cheque. He had never actually been to the Center, nor did he know what they did there, and frankly, he didn't care. Many people were going to see him make the presentation and, as a result, he was going to look good and, therefore, so would the business. * * * * * As is typical in most major cities, parking downtown can be a challenge, so Angela was thrilled to find a parking lot next to the clinic. She pulled into the first vacant stall and directly in front of her car was a large sign, "Show your parking receipt to the receptionist for validation". She smiled to herself, "Is that all it takes?" She entered the building through the double glass doors. The receptionist was fumbling with some papers at the counter in front of her. Angela approached the uniformed young woman and smiled. Printed on the tag pinned to the front of her uniform was her name, "Jane Z.". Jane looked up and smiled, "Good afternoon. May I help you?" Angela continued to smile, placed her hands on the counter, and using her best innocent expression replied, "I hope so. I'm looking for some information." "Certainly," and with that Jane sat down in front of her computer and struck a few keys. Defiant at her attempts, the screen stayed blank. She muttered under her breath, "Damn thing." Angela glanced at the blank screen and then back at Jane and smiled again at her obvious frustration. Jane looked back at her and smiled, realizing the impression she was giving was somewhat less than professional. "OOPS! Sorry about that. These darn computers have been down all day." She gestured with her thumb to some obscure place behind her, "The tech is in the back working on our systems. He was supposed to be finished before we opened this morning." Her eye caught the clock on the wall, "Two thirty! Two thirty and he's still not finished!" She looked back at Angela and smiled, "Sorry," and chuckled nervously, "You really don't care, do you? Please have a seat," pointing to the lounge area. "I'll see if one of our counselors can see you. Is this your first visit?" "Yes, first time," Angela replied and turned to the lounge thinking, "She thinks I'm a client. Well that's probably good - it will at least get me inside." Angela sat in the closest chair in the empty lounge area. "Comfortable," was her first impression as she began to examine the individual elements that made up the decor. It was obvious the planning of the room had been given careful consideration. Clearly, the space was meant to look and feel comfortable and relaxing. There was not a hint of the clinical atmosphere one might expect at such a place. The walls were painted in a soft pastel and hung with tasteful original oil paintings. She considered each piece for a moment, and then glanced to the next, and then the next. She didn't recognize the artists' names, but the work was pleasant enough. Each piece of furniture, as well, was equal to the rest of the surroundings. She concluded that the decorating was certainly good enough to be in someone's home never mind the waiting area of a clinic. She was impressed. Undoubtedly, that had been the whole idea. Make your clients comfortable, and they will be more relaxed. "Make the prospect believe". She took a magazine from the pile on the table and started to leaf through it. She had no idea what the magazine was nor did she care. A waiting room is just a waiting and waiting wasn't something she wanted to do. She had waited long enough already. Within minutes a pleasant looking blonde woman walked into the lounge. She was a few years older than Angela and about the same height. She walked confidently towards Angela, offering her hand. "Hi. I'm Gina, how do you do?" Angela smiled as she shook the other's hand and thought, "The receptionist forgot to get my name", then spoke politely, "I'm Angela Michails. I'm fine. Thank you." Angela had noticed that Gina didn't introduce herself as Doctor - she had simply said "Gina". "Glad to meet you, Ms. Michails. Please, come inside and let's see what we can do for you." Angela unceremoniously tossed the magazine back to the pile as she got up, "Please, call me Angela. Ms. Michails sounds like my mother," they chuckled politely. "Of course, Angela, I do have to apologize, though. Things are a bit hectic around here today," Gina's voice sounded genuine as they continued into her office. "Yes." Angela replied as she sat in front of Gina's desk. "Jane was mentioning something about work on your systems?" she masked her lack of interest expertly. "Yes. The system is only three months old and now it has crashed or something. As you can probably imagine, it has really made a mess of things around here." Gina shook her hands in front of her as if to clear the air and pointed to the side wall indicating the technician was working on the other side. "Well, anyway, he should be finished soon. Things can get back to normal - hopefully. We have no idea as yet how much damage has been done. Thankfully, it hasn't been too busy here today or we would really be in a pickle!" Gina was unaware that the computer technician could hear everything she was saying. The building designers hadn't been concerned with noise transmission between Gina's office and the next room. They knew that room would only be used to house the computer system and were more interested in keeping building costs down than they were about sound insulation. The computer technician looked up from his terminal, glancing at the shared wall. He had heard virtually everything said in Gina's office all day - everything that she had discussed with her clients as well as what she had been saying about him. His displeasure with her was growing and he muttered under his breath, "I'm going as fast as I can." Gina opened a fresh file folder and started making notes on the form it contained. "Okay Angela. What can I do for you? My receptionist tells me you would like some information on the insemination process? You are obviously looking to have a child?" Angela squirmed nervously in her chair, thinking, "Here goes". "Yes." she said out loud, and thought, "But not today!" Angela chose her tone carefully as she continued, "I noticed that you didn't introduce yourself as doctor." She was genuinely curious about Gina's credentials but didn't want to appear intimidating or annoying. Noting Angela's tone, Gina looked up from the folder and smiled, "Of course, Angela. Forgive me. I'm not a doctor. I'm a counselor and the clinic manager. The clinic has retained the services of a very well respected physician who takes care of the actual procedures and all the medical details. She is very good. I assure you this is a very legitimate facility. The clinic has been doing this for some twenty two years now. We adhere to a very strict set of guidelines for ethical standards of conduct and we maintain absolute confidentiality." Those words hit Angela like a hammer, "Standards of conduct", "Absolute confidentiality". They were important words to most people, but they weren't the words Angela wanted to hear. The technician behind the wall looked up when he heard Gina's comments and chuckled, "You have no bloody idea, lady" and returned to his work. Angela smiled, "What kind of information do you have on the donors that come to your clinic? What's the screening process?" Angela knew she needed to establish trust, and somehow build rapport with Gina. These questions were intended to help achieve that goal. Angela knew that was the only way she would be able to get the information she so desperately wanted. She was now wondering whether or not she would ever learn who her father was. Gina responded to Angela's questions quickly. "Well, we start by having each donor complete a questionnaire which we keep on permanent file." She pointed at the wall again, "The potential donor then signs a series of releases that enable us to perform certain medical examinations and to obtain his medical records. We are very thorough." There was pride in her voice. "We compile a summary of our findings and if the donor is considered suitable, samples are taken and stored carefully within the facility. You would be shown a catalog of sorts which lists the donors by general physical attributes; hair and eye color, ethnic background - things of that nature. You would then choose a donor. Our physician has been involved throughout the whole process - she is the one who will actually accept the donor and perform the procedure when the time comes. You will have a series of examinations yourself. We want to be as sure as we can that the procedure will have every reasonable chance of success." Gina paused to gather her thoughts, "You do have to realize, though, that there are no guarantees. I can't emphasize that enough. We do have a very respectable success rate, relatively speaking, but there are still failures. You need to know that up front." She paused to allow sufficient time for that information to be digested before proceeding, "Generally speaking, most of the women who come to us have already been trying to get pregnant. They have been to their own doctors who have indicated that everything is normal. Our exams are really just to confirm the physicians' conclusions. Provided those exams are satisfactory, a number of your eggs will be harvested and fertilized with the donor's sperm in our lab. When we are satisfied that we have a viable sample, the fertilized eggs are returned to you. From that point on things are pretty much in Mother Nature's hands."…continued Read the first 5 chapters free! Go to http://angelastruth.com/5chapters.php Continues... | 
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