Chapter 1: Just What Are You Inseminating Here?!

A now-adult Monica has struggled with kidney failure for a while, but one morning, she just might get some answers on how to remedy it.

Within the following nine years, the Lloyd family slowly grew accustomed to Max's absence as the man of the house. Mary had to get used to running the family business without her husband's help, and Monica grew up only being raised by one parent, not counting the few boyfriends her mother had along the way. Nevertheless, the two managed to overcome their problems and adjust themselves to a brand new status quo for their lives.

It was an ordinary morning at a family-owned restaurant in upstate Vermont named Mary & Maxwell's. For the longest time, it had been the family's primary way of keeping bread on the table, and its menu consisted of somewhat traditional dishes each with a clever spin on them. The restaurant itself only occupied the first floor of the building, while the second and third floors acted as the living space for the family that owned it. On the topmost floor was where Monica made herself at home, complete with her own bedroom and bathroom, and even a small living room where she could watch TV and store the rest of her belongings.

Monica, now a twenty-one-year-old woman just shy of a college degree, woke up with a large stretch as she climbed out of bed, a hand pressed onto the side of her lower back, where her kidney was. The pain sometimes flared up in that area, and she'd already seen a doctor about it, but no results had come back yet. After the ache went away within ten seconds, Monica unpaused her morning routine, styling her hair into a half-ponytail. She looked more or less the same as her past counterpart, right down to wearing similar glasses, though her body had obviously become taller and more detailed with time, nearly breaching 6'5" in fact. In the midst of getting dressed and freshening up, she briefly glanced at her period calendar, before deciding on which product to use for that day.

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It was only when Monica made her way downstairs to start her morning shift at the restaurant that things began to look down for her. The area where the customers ate boasted a very warm color palette that reminded her of autumn, combined with a classic 1950's diner aesthetic that drew its line at the staff uniforms. A defunct jukebox caught dust in one corner, while various pictures were framed on the walls, ranging from wedding to honeymoon to family photographs, and a select few from the co-founders' childhoods. There was even a hand-drawn sketch of Bernie Sanders, the city's former mayor, colored in with a mix of pastels and watercolors as it hung right by the front door.

As of now, the diner was still about an hour away from opening its doors for the day. Monica expected her mother to already be in the kitchen preparing food for the day, but this morning was different. Instead, she busied herself standing over one of the metal countertops, her shoulders hunched and all of her weight gathered into her hands as they were pressed onto the cold, slick surface. She repeatedly read over a sheet of paper, a couple of emptied beer bottles standing nearby. Just those few beers seemed to have already had an effect on her, as shown by the pink stains in her sclera and the fraying of her mousy hair.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Monica asked as she entered the room. "We're about to open in less than an hour. What's the hold up?"

"L-Look." Mary handed her daughter the slip of paper, sounding as though she was almost in tears.

Monica wordlessly accepted the paper and began to read it for herself, discovering that it had to do with her own medical records. Her eyes scanned across every individual line of text, furrowing her brows and occasionally raising one until she got to the very end, when her eyes widened once again.

"I take it this is a result of that exam I had a while back?" she asked.

"Yes, and it says you'll need to receive kidney dialysis treatment three times a week for the rest of your life. Either that, or you'll have to get a transplant," Mary sobbed.

"Well okay then. So how 'bout it?" Monica asked.

"How 'bout what?" Mary asked in response.

"Maybe you could give me a kidney?" Monica continued.

"I would, but I've only got one left. Gave the other one up to save my own mother way back when…" Mary replied, glancing wistfully at the ceiling.

"And Dad's gone, so he's out." Monica sighed matter-of-factly.

At that, Mary just froze, seeming as though she was about to cry even harder, though she managed to restrain herself.

"What's the matter?" Monica kept prying.

"About that... I-I knew there'd eventually be a day when I'd have to tell you this, but I never imagined it'd be in this situation," Mary replied.

"Tell me what?" Monica folded her arms.

"That man who we lost in a car crash all those years ago... he wasn't your father," Mary answered after a brief pause.

"Wait, what?! But... I have his eyes... and his freckles!" Monica screamed in shock.

"Yeah, well those just happen to be recessive genes from your real father's family," Mary explained. "We figured because of that, you'd still wind up looking like both of us."

"Okay, so then who is my real father? Like, was he some jackass you had a one-night stand with in college or something?" Monica questioned.

"Hell no! The guy we lost was the only man I ever slept with!" Mary shouted back, offended that her daughter would make such an assumption. "I had every intention of having him be your father, but the only problem was that his vasectomy reversal didn't work. So in order for us to have a child, I had to take a sperm donation."

"And do you know who that donor might be?" Monica asked.

"Well not offhand, but I suppose a DNA test could give you some answers," Mary replied. "But that can wait for the time being. It's almost opening time and we're not even ready yet."

Monica nodded and recycled all the emptied beer bottles, before helping her mother start cooking. All the while a small handful employees for both the kitchen and dining area slowly trickled into the restaurant. The daytime shift lasted from about nine to five and was as busy as ever; both Mary and Monica took turns alternating between cooking and waiting on tables. If there was one thing the Lloyd family was grateful for, it was that the diner's business didn't tank after the death of its founder.

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Eventually, five o'clock rolled around, giving everyone a couple of hours before the dinner shift began. After bussing the last of the tables, Monica took the opportunity to head out to the local medical center for a DNA test, which required her to give up a small amount of blood. With the promise of receiving mailed results within the next couple of days, she headed back home and worked until her shift ended at ten.

As the restaurant slowly started to shut down below her, she got ready for bed and thought to herself about everything she'd learned today. How the loving man she'd been calling 'dad' from Day One, the man whose death she'd been grieving for nine straight years, turned out not to be her biological father. Not to mention how she'd never found out about this until just now. Part of her wanted to cuss her mother out for keeping that secret so long, but the rest of her completely understood the situation. After all, taking in such complicated information could often be a big ask for a girl at such a tender age, so it was no wonder Mary waited until her daughter was an adult and was thus old and mature enough to let that revelation soak in.

She just wished she could've learned about all that at any other time instead of while she was in the midst of fighting her own body.