Free Summer Son by Anna Martin

to play with.
    Az snapped on a pair of latex gloves and fussed with all the stuff he needed to take blood. I was used to the process, having donated a few times before. It didn’t affect me too badly, and I was happy to sit back and watch Harrison (rather than the needle) while Az took a few vials.
    “Great. All done. They won’t send the results to me. They’ll text you if it’s all clear or call you back in if we need to discuss anything. Don’t panic if they call you—it could mean there was a problem at the lab, or the sample wasn’t good, or whatever. It doesn’t mean you’ve got something.”
    “Okay,” I said. “I did have a test when we were planning for Harrison, and I got the all clear.”
    “And how many sexual partners have you had since then? Don’t give me that look, Ellis. I’m asking as your doctor.”
    “Two,” I said darkly. “Oliver and Zane.”
    “I fucking knew it,” he said with a little fist pump. I glared at him.
    “Joking,” he insisted, holding up his hands. “You should be fine. We’ll be in touch.”
    “Thanks.”
    I tucked the prescription into my pocket and swept Harrison up, shouldered my backpack, and shook Azriel’s hand.
    “Good to see you, man.”
    “You too. Take care.” The fact that he was a doctor stopped his words from being mindless platitude and turned them into a request.
    I had a couple of errands to run while I was out, so when we got back home I set Harrison down to play and pulled out the file that contained all the information about his mother.
    Holly had been everything we were looking for, and she’d come along at just the right time. She was a mother of two of her own children and had been a surrogate once before, so she was familiar with the process.
    I’d clicked with her immediately, which was such a relief, since she was so perfect on paper. As part of the surrogacy process she’d put together a file with all her medical history, and I settled on the sofa with it on my lap, ready to flick through.
    It didn’t contain a whole lot. I just wanted to check for any mention of allergies. I was sure we were probably told at one point, but I never remembered stuff like that. There was lots of important information imparted at the time, and I barely listened to half of it. I was more concerned about the impending baby.
    There wasn’t anything in the file about allergies, except to cats, and we already knew about that. It wasn’t likely to be hereditary. I loved cats but Ollie didn’t, so he wasn’t bothered about the possibility of his son being allergic to them. It was a good excuse for him not to let me get one.
    If I ever moved out of the city, I’d vowed to fill my home with animals.
    The afternoon flew by as I cleaned the apartment and answered some e-mails, all while trying to get Harrison to eat his lunch. I clearly didn’t have Zane’s skills in either cookery or coercion. Most of it ended up over me or the floor. Since he’d eaten a decent breakfast, I decided not to get too stressed out and let him play, with a plate of food within easy reach if he wanted it.
    I sent Zane a text asking him to text me when he was awake and saying that I owed him dinner, and got an immediate response.
    I like eating dinner.
    If you want to eat it here, I’m cooking.
    Want me to bring anything?
    Lube?
    For dinner?
    For dessert ;)
    I’ll see you in about thirty mins.
    I laughed to myself and set my phone aside. Thanks to Harrison’s happier mood today, the apartment was in a much better state; good enough for guests, anyway. I quickly browsed through some movies online and bookmarked a few we could put on and not watch.
    Even though I’d seen him earlier in the day, I wanted Zane back with us again. He lifted me in a way I never thought possible. It felt right to have him around.
    He arrived with a bottle of white wine, held aloft like a prize.
    “Awesome,” I said and dragged him inside so I could thoroughly kiss him. He tasted like mint and