Speeding Letter

“Why, just why,” I shouted as tears were flowing down my face. I let my foot rest more on the gas pedal letting the engine’s roar reflect the one of sadness escaping from my lungs. Why did she have to bring that up? She knows we can’t have kids. She knows the clinic denied our health insurance and the adoption agency wants more money than we have. Who can afford 20-80 thousand a kid? I can’t even find any programs to assist with the costs and work won’t give her maternity leave for adopted children...I don’t even get paternity leave if it was our own flesh and blood...

“Why even ask to try again…why?” I sobbed. My voice was hoarse and just whispered to the empty car and my hollow insides. I was quickly distracted from my thoughts when the sound of police sirens pierced the air. Damn, the police.

I pulled my black Dodge Charger over to the graveled side of the empty highway and tried to wipe all the tears away before the cop saw me. I rolled down my window as the Cop’s boots crunched the ground. I looked at him as he reached my door, but his flashlight blinded me.

“Do you know how fast you were going, sir?” The cop questioned breathing deeply looking for the scent of alcohol.

“No, Officer.” I replied worriedly. Hope it’s not a huge ticket. Last thing I needed was to present my wife with more bad news.

“The speed limit is forty. You were going seventy-five miles an hour. I’m going to need to see your license, insurance, and registration, please.” The Cop informed me.

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket and rummaging through it to retrieve my license and insurance card. I handed them to him and opened my console compartment to retrieve the final item. As I was searching he struck up a conversation.

“There are only a couple of reasons for being that much over the speed limit in this town. You don't appear to be under the influence of anything, but I can see something is upsetting you. May I ask what’s bothering you?”

“I had an argument with the wife about us trying again for kids. We want kids, but we've been unable to have any. Just the way life goes I guess...” I replied realizing it wasn't in the consul and went looking in the glove compartment.

“That’s tough. I wish you the best, but next time please, go for a walk. Don’t speed and get yourself or others killed.” He stated as I found a folded piece of paper I assumed to be my registration. I handed the officer the paper and he opened it. A smile quickly spread across his aging face.

“This isn't your registration, but I’m sure it’ll make you happy.” He grinned as I gave him a confused look. He gave it back to me and I read the paper.

Dear Mrs. & Mr. Jason Harrell,

I am pleased to inform you there was a mix up in the paperwork and you two are candidates for in vitro fertilization. We have further contacted your insurance about their policies and it will cover 75% of the procedures then 100% once the yearly deductible of $10,000 has been met. As an apology we will wave our start-up fees (a 2,000 dollar value). To contact us please call our office during normal business hours; Monday-Friday 8am-7pm, Saturdays 10am-4pm.

Sincerely, Dr. Emma Bronson

Bronson & Longview. Fertility Specialists

“I think I owe my wife an apology.” I smiled imagining our new life with children.