“Now Sarai Abram’s wife had borne him no children…”

Lech L'cha Genesis 12:1 - 17:27

“So, when are you going to give me a grandson?” 

Joseph Jasanoff did not keep his thoughts to himself. Everything he said or did was an unapologetic expression of the world as he saw it and as he wanted it to be. His Scarsdale home was custom built to his specifications, and he loved it. He loved the turkey-less Thanksgiving dinner his cook was serving for his only child Alec and Alec’s wife Stephanie. As an army Major in Viet Nam, he had been used to asking direct questions and giving orders dispassionately. His commanders had him supervise napalm drops over the Viet Cong because he could do it without wavering. When he transitioned to civilian life he built his real estate development company with equal confidence. As far as he was concerned, he outranked his son. It seemed unexceptional to expect a direct answer to an important question. 

“Steph and I want a child. You know that. When we’re ready to have a child, I promise you, you’ll be the fourth to know… right after me, Steph, and Steph’s doctor.” 

“I feel like I should be further up on the list, but I’m not exactly sure who to push out of line” Joseph joked. “There’s a lot at stake. I built my business for the generations to come, not just for me. The east coast is stifling your own business promise and it may even be what’s constricting your family. There’s a parcel in the Los Angeles area I purchased back in 2010, when the land came down in value.  I wanted to develop commercial businesses there, but I can’t get it zoned even though I think it would be perfect. I’d like the two of you to move out there and try your hand at developing it for residences. Show me what you can do, and it will be yours. And God willing, in time, it will be your children’s.

Alec’s nickname for his father was “the Major” but he shared it only with his wife. Alec knew not to argue with the Major. Even so, he and Stephanie found themselves charged up at the thought of moving away and starting a new business rather than just serving under the Major. 

It worked out well. Where the Major built commercial properties because he had a great sense of how people wanted to make money, Stephanie understood how people wanted to live, and Alec knew how to build it and sell it. The housing market was starting to reawaken. In a few years they had fully developed and sold the land they were given, and more. The Major was right. The east coast had been stifling them. 

But the Major was also wrong. The couple remained childless, and not for lack of trying. Eventually, Steph’s doctor performed some tests and explained to them that Stephanie’s uterus had scar tissue that would make carrying a baby very unlikely.

For the next months, Stephanie would feel faint at the sight of a baby stroller. As the next planned community was going up, she would look at floor plans and draw little cartoon children in the second and third bedrooms, and then take a single edge blade and literally cut them out of the picture. But by the time the last home in the development had been sold, Stephanie seemed to reach a place of peace. 

Then it was Alec’s time to go through his own crisis. His father’s question played in his head throughout the day.

“When are you going to give me a grandson?” 

It was like an earworm of some awful pop song. 

Alec brought his wife into the great room after dinner, lit the fireplace, and told her of his plan. 

“Steph, we’re not going to have a child. I know it. But I must carry my line on, the Jasanoff line on, for my dad, somehow. I don’t care if he doesn’t know it, or if no one does, or if the name dies. I just want to know that the child is out there somewhere. So I thought – I could be a sperm donor. Would you support me if I did that?” 

“Your father is really something” was the only answer she could muster.  But it was good enough for Alec to understand.

…

“Please fill out the form as accurately and completely as possible, and if there’s anything you’re unsure of, please leave it blank.” 

Alec was amused at many of the questions and thought maybe this would be the first test he’d get an A on. He checked them off: not a drinker, not a smoker. His father was likely to live forever. His mother had died prematurely, but the victim of a drunk driver. “Any history of violence in your family?” He remembered being bullied in junior high school and just taking it. He couldn’t bear the thought of actually hitting a person. Even hitting back in self-defense. But then he stopped at the questions on genetic disorders. When his mother was alive, she explained to him that he was probably a carrier of Tay-Sachs disease. He had almost forgotten all about it. It took him some persistence to get the attention of the woman at the desk, until she finally assured him that this was a “regressive” trait and was fine as long as the mother was not also a carrier. 

“OK, an A minus” he thought, as he checked his first “YES” box. 

“So when are you going to give me a grandson?” His father’s words played through his mind again. “Give it time, dad,” he imagined answering. 

But time would only rub and chafe against him in the following months. Had his specimen been used? Was it any good? Was an Alec Jr. growing and developing in the womb of some woman who had no idea of her purpose – to extend the Jasanoff line? Or did it die, undignified and alone, as it had so many times before in the body of his own wife? 

He needed to call the fertility center. He needed to do it anonymously, from an untraceable burner phone.  

“Hello, this is doctor… Richardson. I’m calling on behalf of my patient. This concerns the donor who identified positive as a carrier for Tay-Sachs disease.” 

“Hello, doctor. Did you say Richardson? I don’t see you here.” 

“I’m her OB/GYN. You would be dealing with her fertility doctor.” 

“That would be doctor Eliazer. Is this about the genetic match? We screen all our patients and we would never match two patients with the same regressive trait.” 

“Well, I just need to be extra cautious. I am working with two patients who are working with your facility, and one is a carrier for Tay-Sachs disease.” 

“Oh, my – I can understand your concern. Well, the woman who received the specimen you’re referring to is Ellen Anfang, and she is definitely…” 

“That’s all I needed to hear. Ellen should have no problem, then, and she is doing splendidly.” 

—–

“My line has a mother. Her name is Ellen Anfang.” Alec looked into his wife’s eyes to see if she shared his own excitement, but she was unflinching. Now it seemed stupid to have told her, but he would have felt worse if he had held back the truth. 

Now he burned with curiosity about the mother of his child. He searched for her name on Facebook and was partly amazed to see her image appear. There were several, but only one lived in the Los Angeles area. She was single, a project manager, and appealingly attractive. Scrolling down a couple of months, yes, there it was… 

“IT’S A BOY” and beneath it the image of her ultrasound. 

Alec needed to somehow meet her; he needed to meet the mother of the Jasanoff line. He could perhaps send her a friend request, but on what basis? He searched and found no friends in common. If he reached out with no story, and she turned him down, it could close the door to Ellen and her son… and HIS son… indefinitely. 

He needed patience: the simmering patience of his own father. He needed to continue to bear the rub and chafe of time if he would have a chance to meet them. Alec learned that Ellen loved bicycling and hiking. She collected plants and told stories of nurturing her collection through starvation and illness. She had a cat with an unpronounceable name. She loved spending Sunday mornings sipping coffee and eating avocado toast at her local Culver City café, “Bread ‘n Butter.” Alec realized that this was the key.

Alec preferred building things to nurturing them, but he enjoyed food and coffee. He calculated that he’d probably have to wait another eight months. Spring would be warming up Culver City; his son would be alive and ready for walks in a stroller.  

Bread ‘n Butter was a casual lunch spot that catered to millennials who were successful “enough”. Alec felt a little out of his element.  The metal chairs at the café screeched against the sidewalk whenever anyone moved one, and the tables shook a little, but what vexed Alec most was the fact that people seemed to tolerate it all.  But it was in its way perfect. He could order… avocado toast, a big cup of coffee, and nurse it indefinitely. But after four Sundays, the mother of his son would not appear. He tried showing up early. He tried afternoons. He could hover over his breakfast for only so long. Then finally, there she was. Her smile had the same radiance he’d seen in her profile picture. She was there with a man – her boyfriend? All Alec could do was work to eat his avocado toast and say nothing. He could barely even eat his toast as he was so choked with anxiety. He said nothing to her.

When he arrived home, a failure, Stephanie had now become curious as to why Alec was spending so many Sunday mornings away.   He resisted the panic that would have led to a lie.  Stephanie was in this affair almost as much as he was. He told her the truth. He certainly didn’t expect her response.

“Let me handle it.” she told her husband.

The two of them went together to the café the following Sunday.  They arrived fifteen minutes before Ellen had shown up the previous Sunday and they took a table with a clear view of where Alec had seen Ellen and the man.  They watched for forty-five minutes and no one came.  Then, Stephanie heard a little baby squeal behind her, and she spun around.  The woman was immediately apologetic.

“Oh, I’m so sorry if my baby is disturbing your breakfast.  We’ll move…”

“NO!” Stephanie shouted, and then “Oh my God!  That is such a beautiful baby!  No, please don’t… Oh, dear – he has your nose and his father’s eyes.”  The man sitting next to Ellen laughed.

“I’m not his father, but everyone seems to think I look like I am.”

“You DO!” Stephanie said with conviction – even though the comparison she had just made was totally fabricated.  “That’s a compliment to both of you.”

Finally, Alec turned around and looked into the eyes of his son, and then at Ellen.  As he saw the resemblance, he realized how he had become connected with this stranger in a way that seemed more profound than even his connection with his own wife.  The four of them talked easily and shared breakfast for nearly an hour.  The boy’s name was Ian.  At the end, Alec was shocked when his wife exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, and then insisted that she’d invite them over for lunch some time.

Over the course of several months, the two couples shared many lunches together, mostly hosted by Alec and Stephanie.  They learned of how Ellen had wanted a life partner, and she joked at how none of the men she dated could stand up to her friend Randy. 

“Stephanie, you’re lucky that you got to Alec before I did” Ellen teased, as she patted Alec’s hand.  Stephanie didn’t care for that comment, but she deflected it masterfully.

“But then you’d never have that beautiful baby” she teased.  “Alec and I have wanted to have a child, but it wasn’t meant to be” and she let it hang in a way to suggest that it was Alec’s fertility that was the impediment.

The touch of Ellen’s fingertips had sent rushes of excitement through Alec’s neck and shoulders.  At night he pictured his son’s face.  It would oscillate in his mind between the resemblance to his own face and the resemblance to Ellen’s, swirling back and forth between the two like the slow rhythm of ocean waves.

It was Alec’s idea to invite Ellen, Randy, and Ian over to Thanksgiving dinner when the Major was coming over to the west coast to spend the holiday with his son and daughter-in-law.  The main course, selected by Alec, was turkey. 

“That is a handsome boy” Joseph said with such authority that it seemed to be more of a decree than polite flattery.  “He’ll go far in life just with his looks… and with the intelligence and warmth of his parents, there’s no stopping him.”  Randy laughed his familiar laugh. 

“I’m not his father, but…” and Alec cut him off.

“May I pick him up?” Alec asked, and when he got Ellen’s approval, Alec lifted and held the boy between his own face and Randy’s.  “But everyone thinks he is. Isn’t there an uncanny resemblance?” Alec asked as he looked squarely at his father.

And a deep sense of wisdom and understanding came across Joseph’s face.

“You’re not the father, Randy?  It’s uncanny” Joseph told him.

“Just a very good friend” Randy explained.

“I’m a single mom” Ellen explained.  “I had Ian by choice.”

“Well, you are both very very blessed.  But especially you, Ellen.  And your parents too.” Joseph told them.

Ellen explained that neither of her parents were alive and neither had ever met Ian.

Joseph went on. “Well, I’m sorry that they never got to meet their beautiful grandson.  I’m sure they would have loved him very much.  As Alec may have told you, I’ll never be fortunate enough to have a grandson… that I can hold and love… and share with him all the great things I’ve created in my life.”

The next Saturday, Alec planned to call Ellen and Randy, to meet them at Bread n’ Butter for breakfast.

“Steph, something’s odd with my phone.  I can’t find the phone number for either of them.”

“I deleted their numbers.” Stephanie told her husband.  “I deleted them and I called the mobile phone company to block them.   We’ve had enough.  This isn’t normal.  Your family line is safe, and now you need to let it go.”

The Major died before he could spend another Thanksgiving with his son and daughter-in-law.  He left them his business empire back east, but also another large, underdeveloped area of land adjacent to the one Alec and Stephanie had already built their home. The city was on the verge of bursting out there. It was perfect for residential development.

Ellen never knew why she hadn’t heard from her friends again. She became alarmed when she got an unexpected notice from some law firm she had no connection to.  The notice bore good, but strange, news. Her son Ian had received a donation of a quarter of a million dollars toward his education from an anonymous benefactor.