The Speed of Light

Daphne sneaked into the bathroom, trying not to stumble in the dark. She didn’t want to waken her sleeping husband – purely out of consideration for his need for sleep, she told herself, and not because she wanted to avoid his sympathetic look as she took yet another pregnancy test.

After almost three years of marriage, with half that time spent actively trying to get pregnant, Daphne was beginning to get a little bit frantic. When she and Jamie first married, they were sure that the biggest challenge they would have would be in staving off pregnancy until they were ready to start their family. Jamie had assured her that the O’Keefes were a remarkably fertile bunch, with multiple births occurring in many of his siblings’ families. He’d joked that the “little swimmers” produced by the manly O’Keefe men had been known to defeat many a birth control method – as witnessed by his brother John repeatedly being caught by unplanned, out-of-wedlock pregnancies.

Her mother, Dr. Jo Chanders, also assured her that she would have no problem when the time came – the women in their family were known for their ease with childbirth. Of course, her mother didn’t take into account that she was almost six feet tall, with broad, womanly hips, and not a five foot one pipsqueak with, well, not boyish hips, but certainly not great for birthing babies hips either. Still, their relatively disparate size wasn’t the issue when it came to getting pregnant, and Dr. Jo had assured Daphne that she’d have no problems when the time came. Indeed, Dr. Jo was another one who had found herself pregnant while still in medical school, despite her best birth control efforts.

So, Daphne did what any smart young medical student would do – she insisted they double up. They used two forms of birth control until she was done medical school and starting her residency. She and Jamie had agreed that her second residency year would be the best time for her to get pregnant, and they were thrilled to drop the birth control, sure that she would be pregnant within the month.

Or two.

Surely by three?

It didn’t help, of course, that everyone kept asking when they were going to add to the massive number of O’Keefes already populating the city. Jamie always just smiled and turned the question away with a quip – but Daphne knew that he was beginning to wonder also. Why wasn’t she pregnant?  If this test didn’t come out positive, she was going to have to go to her gynecologist and get some tests done.

Dear God, let it be positive.

She’d gotten so good at taking the damn tests that she didn’t even need to turn the light on – at least, not until it was time to check the little strip and see what color the line was. This test was supposed to show two bright blue lines if positive.

Holding her breath, Daphne switched on the light to check the strip.

“Fuck!”

She sat down on the closed toilet seat and tried not to cry.

“Hey.”  A soft voice came from the other side of the closed door. “Can I come in?”

Taking a deep breath, Daphne tried to answer in her normal cheerful voice as she tossed the stupid, no blue lines, strip into the trashcan.  “Sure.”  Then, as Jamie poked his rumpled head in, she asked, “Did the light wake you? Sorry.”

“I’m fine. And it wasn’t the light, actually, so much as the sound,” Jamie said, coming in and sitting on the edge of the tub. “They say that the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound....”

Daphne forced a smile to her face. “That must explain why some people seem bright until they start to talk.”

Jamie grinned at her. “I hope that wasn’t meant for yours truly. Sounds like a Danny type insult.”

“Or Brian,” Daphne agreed, her smile becoming a little less forced. They fell silent, sitting in the barely lit bathroom, both of them ignoring the big pink elephant squeezed in there with them.

Or it could be a blue elephant, Daphne thought. She would be happy with either, so long as....

The tears started to fall and Jamie silently gathered her close, lifting her up in his strong arms and cradling her against his broad chest as he walked back to their bed.  He settled back down against the headboard, and let her cry her frustrations and disappointment out, softly stroking her hair and crooning one of the old Celtic lullabies under his breath. She couldn’t help but think what a wonderful father Jamie would be; he was so good at lullabies and comforting.

Of course, that thought made her cry all the harder.

“Shh, now, baby, time to stop your crying. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Jamie told her finally, lifting her chin so he could look into her brown eyes. “I know you think this is something you have to handle all on your own, so you go sneaking off to check without telling me, but you aren’t in this alone. I’m with you, don’t ever forget that.”

“Easy for you to say,” Daphne grumbled. “You’re not the one who is failing.”

Jamie hugged her close. “No one is failing anything...or anyone.  I do think though that it’s time we get this checked out. Find out what’s causing the delay and get it fixed. Okay?”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Like we don’t know it’s me,” she muttered, feeling more inadequate than ever.

“We don’t know that,” Jamie smiled his dimpled smile at her. “Maybe I have a low sperm count.”

“Yeah, and maybe pigs fly.”

Jamie laughed. “You don’t know. After all, it only stands to reason that half the people you know have to be below average, and with all those above-average O’Keefes out there having a half dozen or more kids each, someone has to be below-average.”

But he didn’t really think it could be him, of course. He was being nice, because he hated seeing Daphne tearing herself up over this. So, Jamie figured, they’d both get tested and then they’d get fixed whatever little problem it was that was preventing Daph from joining the ranks of mothers of O’Keefe soccer players.

***************

“What do you mean it’s me?”

Jamie stared at the doctor in disbelief. He’d gone to the head of the proctology department at the Pittsburgh Medical Center since he knew the guy to be very good – and he hadn’t anticipated there being any reason why he might later wish he’d chosen a physician who wasn’t on staff at the same hospital he was and who wouldn’t be using the same lab he used all the time. He narrowed his green eyes as he considered the bald, slightly paunchy doctor.

“Is this a joke? I have to tell you, it isn’t very funny. My wife is very upset over this.”

“I’m sorry, James. We ran the test twice – you gave us a more than adequate sample,” Dr. Morrow said dryly, “but the problem isn’t with the seminal fluid. It is with the quantity and quality of your sperm.”

“My sperm lacks quality and quantity?”  Jamie felt gut-punched. 

“There is an enzyme defect present, wherein many of the individual sperm lack the ability to penetrate and fertilize the egg.”

“Which means....”

“That even if one gets to the door, not a sure thing because of the low quantity, it is more likely than not that he will knock but he won’t know how to get in.”

“Great, I have stupid sperm. What can be done about it?” Jamie sat up straighter, ready to accept this unpleasant truth and move forward.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” Jamie demanded, his deep voice filling the office. Dr. Morrow winced.

“What I mean is, that while there are ways to improve the sperm count, and to compensate for it, there is nothing we can do to assist the sperm to fertilize the egg. It must do that on its own.”

“So, it is impossible for me to father children?” Jamie asked, hiding his devastation behind a handsome expressionless mask.

“Not impossible,” Dr. Morrow quickly corrected him, causing Jamie’s spirits to rise. “Just very, very hard.”

The green eyes narrowed again. “How hard are we talking? Forty percent? Thirty?”

The man on the other side of the desk shook his head. “No...I am afraid it would be more like a 1% chance – if that.  But...one mustn’t give up hope.”

Dr. Morrow’s last words were delivered to a closing door.

***************

“You can’t let this get you down,” Danny told his brother, who sat glumly on the other side of the pub table, working on his fourth beer.

“Seriously. Forty-two point seven percent of all statistics are made up on the spot,” Brian told them. Jamie lifted his head and stared balefully at him.

“Yeah, in advertising maybe. Not in medicine. Not in this field. Those proctology guys have data coming out their ears.”

“I would have thought it was their asses,” Danny couldn’t resist saying under his breath to Brian, who tried to stifle a laugh. John, who was sitting next to Jamie and across from his youngest brother and Brian, caught the comment and managed to kick both of them under the table without the depressed Jamie knowing what made the two of them suddenly stop grinning. The two sat up as though synchronized, pulling their legs in and putting suitably serious looks on their faces.

John nodded his approval and then turned his attention back to Jamie. “There has to be a way to fix this,” he announced. “First of all, you get a second opinion.”

“Wouldn’t that be second of all?” Brian asked, incorrigible as ever.

Danny elbowed him, not wanting to get another kick from John. He added, before John kicked again, “John’s right, Jamie. You shouldn’t just take one guy’s opinion. Hell, the lab might have fucked up.”

Jamie signaled for another beer, then looked at his companions sadly. “I just never thought...all those years of fooling around...that getting a woman pregnant would be a problem. I just worried about avoiding pregnancies!”

“Well, contrary to what Forrest Gump was told, life isn’t always a box of chocolates,” Danny said sympathetically.

This time it was John who added, “It’s more like a jar of jalapenos, what you do today might burn your ass tomorrow.”

Fortunately, Jamie was too drunk to take offense at his companions dissolving into uncontrolled laughter.

***************

A second, and then a third opinion later, Jamie had no choice but to talk to Daphne. He waited until she had the results of all of her tests, thinking maybe both of them had a problem, which would be a shame, but would make him feel better.

But, it wasn’t to be. She met him for lunch a couple days after his binge with his brothers and Brian, her face glowing.

Daphne didn’t even wait until she was seated at the table he’d gotten in a secluded corner of Papagano’s.  She blurted her news out as soon as she saw him.

“Jamie!  I’ve got great news!  Everything checked out great!”  She hugged him tightly.  “The doctor says maybe I’m just worrying about it too much and ....”

“No, that isn’t it,” Jamie broke in on her excited chatter and gently pushed her down into the booth.

She looked perplexed. “I don’t understand. Did my doctor call you or something? Is it that I do have something wrong?” She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white.

Jamie reached out and covered her hands with his large ones.  “No,” he said sadly. “You’re fine, baby. It’s...it’s me.”

Daphne stared wide-eyed at her big, tough, virile husband, who looked like he was damn close to crying.  “Oh Jamie,” she said. Then she got up to walk around the table. Sitting on his lap, she whispered, “It’s going to be okay – we’ll figure out something.”

***************

“So, it isn’t that it’s impossible...it’s just not going to be easy,” Joey asked for a clarification. The  O’Keefe brothers, plus Brian and Emmett, were gathered at Danny’s townhouse.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “You’re the mathematician, Joey. Less than one percent is how the doctor put it. I think that qualifies as essentially impossible.”

“Well, not really, when you think about how many little swimmers are in every load,” Emmett said brightly, bringing more snacks out from the kitchen. He was a big believer in comfort food, so his tray was laden with all of sweet Jamie’s favorites, hot wings, fries, potato skins, everything fattening and yummy. Danny looked at the choices and made a face. But, he didn’t say anything, bless him.  Emmett knew that Danny would agree that Jamie’s needs were paramount today. Of course, Em also had a tray of cut carrots just waiting to be brought out, since he would never forget to take care of Danny. And there were a couple of chocolate cakes for later, since almost all of the O’Keefe brothers loved chocolate, John being the odd one out there. He really did prefer lemon bars, so Em had made a couple pans of them also. Except for Danny and Brian, the men fell upon the food eagerly. 

“Would it be more likely to be successful if you tried in vitro fertilization?” Mark asked, after taking a big bite from one of Em’s great bbq ribs. Danny had made a point of inviting the two oldest brothers for this confab as the inappropriate joking and teasing would be kept to a minimum in front of Matt and Mark.  Especially Mark, who frowned on anything that he deemed at all unkind. And jokes on this subject were hard to stop from being unkind. Jamie was coping fairly well, but Danny knew that this most macho brother of his was devastated by the news that he was basically infertile.

“Not much,” Jamie said glumly. “Since there is this missing enzyme in most of them anyway, putting them in a Petri dish with the eggs wouldn’t really help. And we’d have the added problem of getting the egg to implant if we did manage to get one fertilized.”

“What if....” Matt started to suggest something, but then paused. He’d discussed the situation with his fiancee, Dr. Jo, but he didn’t want to let Jamie know that. Since he was probably the least knowledgeable about these types of things, hell, he just had to look at Julie for her to get pregnant.  He didn’t want to get anything wrong. But...there was an idea that Jo had suggested that just might be the answer.

“What if what?” John asked, his sharp eyes and ears catching Matt’s quiet words. “Shut up for a second, guys, Matt is saying something.”

All of the brothers quieted and waited for their eldest brother to speak. Even Brian and Emmett accorded Matt honorary father status, so they too waited respectfully for Matt to express his idea, which he did slowly and thoughtfully.

“As I understand it – and you know I’m not real good with science stuff,” he began with a self-deprecating smile. “It would help to have more sperm...and, well, some sperm that do have the enzyme.”

“Well, yeah, but how does he do that?” Danny asked.

“What if, well, if Daphne doesn’t mind of course...we all contribute sperm. All of us O’Keefes, that is, and mix it with Jamie’s...and then leave it in God’s hands what specific ‘swimmer’ as you call them, scores the goal. The baby will look as much like Jamie as possible – and we’ll never know that he isn’t, so....”

“That’s a great idea!” Joey said, after a moment’s reflection during which they all drank their beers. “What do you think, Jamie?”

“I... don’t know. It does sound like it would work.”  Jamie’s brow was creased with worry.

“I think you might be worried about the babe not being like he’s yours,” John noted, “but the thing is, with all of us contributing, it won’t be like anyone will know who the father is – other than you. Kind of like when we play soccer...you get the goal and the rest of us are just assisting.”

“Kid’s bound to have green eyes and black hair, in any event,” Brian chimed in, a smile on his face at the thought.

“So, with a half dozen contributions to the mix, Jamie, that will be one hell of a potent sperm cocktail,” Joey said. 

Brian leaned close to Danny and whispered, “Though if it’s a boy, I think we can assume it’s not Joey’s.”

Matt frowned at him – damn, the O’Keefes had keen hearing, Brian thought, smiling apologetically at the O’Keefe patriarch.  Brian noticed that Danny was being rather quiet, so he made an excuse to get him out into the kitchen alone. Once the swinging doors closed behind them, he pulled Danny close and stood hip to hip with him.

“What’s up?  Don’t you like Matt’s idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea....” Danny paused.

“But?”

“But....I don’t want to risk fathering a baby that I won’t be able to claim.”  He looked up at Brian. “I know, that makes me sound selfish...but...I just feel like if I ‘contribute’ to this baby cocktail, it will be me who scores the goal, and....”

“And you’ll always wonder. Yeah, I can see that. It’s kind of different for you too, since you don’t have kids of your own, like the others do.”

Danny nodded glumly. Brian knew he was thinking of that long-ago day when he thought he was going to be a father. He pulled him even tighter against him and kissed him thoroughly.

“We’ll figure something out.”

***************

A few days later, the “sperm cocktail plan” as it had been labeled by the O’Keefe brothers, had won Daphne’s approval, as well as that of her doctor. By mutual agreement, the brothers decided that there was no reason to tell their wives – the fewer people who knew, the better, it was decided. Dr. Jo knew, of course, since it was her daughter who was going to be the beneficiary of all of this O’Keefe generosity, and she was once again overwhelmed by the love these men had for each other.

Danny tried suggesting that his contribution wouldn’t be needed, but he was immediately voted down. For some reason, he told Brian, the rest all had this one for all and all for one mentality about the project. If he were to opt out, John pointed out, one or more of the others might feel qualms about doing it also.

A week before they were to “make their deposits” Danny was still without a solution.  Only Brian and Emmett knew how very much Danny didn’t want to do this, and of the two of them, only Brian really understood why. Emmett, always one to see the bright side, thought Danny would be able to just put it out of his head once his new little niece or nephew arrived.

Danny was at his piano, playing a sad song, when Brian came in and closed the door behind him, locking it. Danny looked up.

“I’m not really in the mood, mo gra`.”

“Well, guess it’s just as well I wasn’t looking to get lucky, isn’t it?” Brian walked over and sat down next to Danny. He pushed the dark hair back and nuzzled the slender neck.

“Do you think your mood would improve if I told you I’d solved your dilemma?”

“How?”

“You just need a sperm sample to replace yours,” Brian pointed out. Danny looked at him aghast.

“You aren’t suggesting you contribute in my place and we pass it off as mine, are you? I’m sorry, Bri, but that is a terrible idea!  What if the baby ends up with auburn hair and hazel eyes – and a dead-ringer for Gus? Someone might get suspicious.”

“Well, given that Gus’ mom is a nordic looking blonde and this baby will have Daphne as a mom, I would find it remarkable indeed if any baby using my sperm were to resemble Gus, but that wasn’t my idea, kiddo. Do I look stupid?”

“Then....?”

“You need six O’Keefe brother sperm samples – we make sure there are six...but with someone else providing the sixth sample. Someone that Jamie and Daphne have no reason to suspect could be contributing.”

Brian smiled smugly as he watched Danny’s eyes widen. 

“Do you think he would....”

“Already asked him. He liked the idea, actually.”

“But how would you get it....”

“Redraven will fly it over midweek, you take it over to the doc, and voila, you’ve contributed to the sperm cocktail, just not with your spunk,” Brian grinned, happy to see the gloom lift from his lover’s eyes.

Danny grinned back at him – then frowned.

“Isn’t this kind of...I don’t know...dishonest?”

“No...they want an O’Keefe brother’s sperm from you and that’s what you’ll be giving them. Assuming Red doesn’t replace it with any First Nation spunk – that would be bound to be more potent and the kid would have that huge hawk nose of his.”

Danny punished Brian suitably for that remark – and then rewarded him for his solution to the dilemma.  For several hours he rewarded him, to their mutual satisfaction.

***************

Nine months later, healthy male triplets were born to Daphne and Jamie. When their birth height exceeded all prior O’Keefe records, the brothers all slapped Jamie on the back and congratulated him for making the goal after all.

Against the odds.

Half a world away, a very tall man received the good news that was sent with the speed of light – and encoded email – and quietly drank a toast with his closest friend and his lover – to the newest O’Keefe brothers. And if deep in his heart he was a trifle saddened, well, only his lover knew, because O’Keefe men never cry.

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