“Anyway. Today you asked me what the significance of the song I sing every time I take off is. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I’m singing the Beatles to my dead ex-girlfriend every time I start to fly into the sky. And you think you’re the one who’s fucked up?”

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible that you went through that.”

“Thank you. But I didn’t tell you this story so you would have sympathy for me. It’s your turn, Perky. I bet it will make you feel better to share whatever it is that’s been bothering you. Plus, I want to hear how my beautiful girl got so screwed up that she’s traveling to foreign countries with the likes of me.”

“You won’t look at me differently after I tell you?” Even though we had less than twelve hours left, the thought upset me.

“Not a chance.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and started at the beginning. “My grandfather, Rutherford Sparks, was a very rich man. He was also domineering, eccentric, racist, homophobic, and controlling. And very much a chauvinist. Lucky for him, he had two sons and no daughters. But the first son died at age four of pneumonia. The second was my father who is Rutherford Sparks the Third. I should note that Rutherford Sparks, Jr., was my father’s older brother who died before he was born.

My dad died five years ago of a heart attack. So my grandfather basically buried his two children, both his namesakes. Even though I was only nineteen when my father passed, my grandfather began pushing me to have a child. He literally started harping on me at my dad’s funeral, demanding that I have a child as soon as possible—a boy, of course—so that he could be sure that his precious name lived on. I had no interest in having a child, so I kept ignoring him, even though he basically funded my lavish lifestyle since the day I was born.

Anyway, without boring you with all the details, my grandfather died two years ago. I have a trust fund that pays for all of my living expenses, but that cuts off when I reach the ripe old age of twenty-five. There’s a second trust fund, one that is worth millions of dollars, that was also left to me. However, my grandfather put a little condition on that one. In order for me to receive the funds, I am required to have a male child by the time I turn twenty-six. Oh…and the child must be named Rutherford Sparks.”

“Is that shit even legal?”

“Apparently so. I had my lawyers look into it. Restrictions on trusts are common. The only time a court will strike the restriction is if it’s illegal or against public policy.”

“Isn’t forcing someone to have a baby against public policy?”

“Apparently not.”

“So, you’re thinking about having a baby and that’s why you took this trip?”

“Actually…this is the part that wins me the contest for being the most fucked-up. I figured out a small loophole in my grandfather’s will. I have to give birth to a male heir, but I don’t have to keep the child. Most normal people would assume that it’s implied that when you intentionally have a child, you keep it. I’m not ready to have a child. But there are plenty of gay couples who are ready to have children and can’t. So I have an appointment in nine days with a married gay couple in Germany. I would be inseminated with the sperm from both men that is genetically modified to ensure that I had a boy. After I gave birth, little Rutherford Sparks would be theirs. Foreign countries are less restrictive with genetic modification of pre-implanted embryos. That’s why I’m doing it outside of the United States.”

Carter shook his head up and down a few times and grinned. “Shit. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but it’s a close one. I’m not sure who wins the contest.”

Oddly, as much as I was disgusted with myself and ashamed of what I was considering doing, I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders by telling Carter. He didn’t seem to judge me at all either. He was just staring out at the water.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

He laughed. “If I tell you, I might slant the contest in my favor.”

“Tell me.”

“I was picturing you pregnant and thinking you’re going to look fucking hot with a big belly and swollen tits.”

“You would.”

The two of us cracked up for a while after that. Even Carter seemed a little lighter after our conversation.

“Alright. Anything else I should know about you, Sparks?”

“I divulged one thing. You divulged one thing. We’re even, Captain.”

“I want to know more.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You sure you don’t have a boyfriend back home?”

“I’m sure.”

“Have there been a lot of boyfriends?”

“No, not serious ones.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

Looking over at the waves, an old familiar ache developed in my chest. It was the second time today I’d thought about Emilio. I finally answered, “Once.”

“What happened?”

It had been years since I’d opened up this old wound. This night was getting way too deep for me to handle. Still, I wanted to tell Carter everything there was to know about me; I didn’t understand where that need was coming from.

“Emilio was a ranch hand who worked on our property back when I was a teenager. We started spending a lot of time together, particularly when my parents weren’t home. We would ride the horses, talk about normal teenage things—our hopes and dreams. It was so refreshing being with him because none of our conversations had to do with money or the aristocratic lifestyle that had been shoved down my face from the time I was born. With Emilio, I was just Kendall—not some girl with money and a thousand expectations weighing her down. Talking to him and riding horses together in the wind…those were some of the best memories of my life. Whenever I was with him, I felt like my true self. I felt free.”

“From the look on your face right now, I’m getting a sense things didn’t end well.”

Shaking my head, I continued, “Emilio wasn’t exactly legal. He and his family had fled Mexico. At one point, I found out that he’d been helping take care of a sick family friend, who was also an illegal alien. He never once asked me for help, Carter. I had to beg him to let me help him.”

“What did you do?”