He ducks his head to hide his pleased smile at Joel's comment that he and the surrogate have the same cheekbones. It means something to him, that Joel would spot those similar traits in qualities in someone who could help them have a child, because Spencer can't deny that he absolutely wants their baby to look like at least one of them. When he thinks that their child could share traits reminiscent of them both, it just makes him think of what Eleanor had said--he and Joel would make beautiful babies. He's not so arrogant as to call himself especially good-looking--he still thinks he's probably far too tall and far too gawky for his own good--but Joel appreciates his aesthetic and that's all that really matters. Besides that, it's not as if what their baby looks like is going to have any bearing whatsoever on how much they love him or her; but he has to admit that the idea of a dark, curly-haired baby with honey-colored eyes whose smile would brighten the room would absolutely not be something Spencer would be opposed to.
"They'll receive preferential treatment upon your approval," Spencer amends with an amused chuckle, "because it's not as if there are as many or more deserving Americans." They've both come across their fare share of people who don't even deserve a second thought or look from either of them but, as Spencer knows quite well, sometimes there's just no avoiding letting those same people under their skin. He hopes that ten years from now, fifteen years from now, twenty years from now, he won't have to explain to their children why people still avoid him on the streets or why sometimes they get nasty mail dropped off on his birthday. He hopes that in that span of time, the people of this town will have long forgotten that Spencer Waters had been accused of killing his own family--even if he never will--and that there won't be any unfriendly reminders that pop up from time to time. If it's going to happen, he'd prefer for it to happen sooner than later because he can take it now. He can take it as a married man. He's not so sure he could take it as a father.
He leans forward, squinting at the screen as he gets closer and briefly thinking that he ought to have brought his glasses downstairs with him before nodding along with what Joel reads out from her listed information. She sounds ideal, as far as he can tell, and it's not like he wants to jump right into this and declare that she's most certainly the right surrogate for them but he feels a flare of excitement that manifests itself as a wide smile.
"I like her," he decides. He likes that she has a family of her own because he thinks that means she must understand what it's like to want one. He likes that he keeps being drawn back to those warm, blue eyes that seem to call to him even through the computer screen. He likes that she's a professor, that her biggest vice is chocolate, that she reads and swims and enjoys the beach, that her family has a German Shepherd, that she's healthy. "It helps that she's willing to carry for same-sex couples." He bites down on his lip, fingers tapping on Joel's shoulder as he looks up at his husband.
"I like her," he says again, leaning back against the couch. "Maybe-- I know we're not in a big rush, I know that, but maybe it would be worth meeting with her? Just to see what she's like in person?" He knows that what they see in this profile and what they find in real life may not quite add up, but Spencer doesn't see the harm in at least taking the chance.
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"They'll receive preferential treatment upon your approval," Spencer amends with an amused chuckle, "because it's not as if there are as many or more deserving Americans." They've both come across their fare share of people who don't even deserve a second thought or look from either of them but, as Spencer knows quite well, sometimes there's just no avoiding letting those same people under their skin. He hopes that ten years from now, fifteen years from now, twenty years from now, he won't have to explain to their children why people still avoid him on the streets or why sometimes they get nasty mail dropped off on his birthday. He hopes that in that span of time, the people of this town will have long forgotten that Spencer Waters had been accused of killing his own family--even if he never will--and that there won't be any unfriendly reminders that pop up from time to time. If it's going to happen, he'd prefer for it to happen sooner than later because he can take it now. He can take it as a married man. He's not so sure he could take it as a father.
He leans forward, squinting at the screen as he gets closer and briefly thinking that he ought to have brought his glasses downstairs with him before nodding along with what Joel reads out from her listed information. She sounds ideal, as far as he can tell, and it's not like he wants to jump right into this and declare that she's most certainly the right surrogate for them but he feels a flare of excitement that manifests itself as a wide smile.
"I like her," he decides. He likes that she has a family of her own because he thinks that means she must understand what it's like to want one. He likes that he keeps being drawn back to those warm, blue eyes that seem to call to him even through the computer screen. He likes that she's a professor, that her biggest vice is chocolate, that she reads and swims and enjoys the beach, that her family has a German Shepherd, that she's healthy. "It helps that she's willing to carry for same-sex couples." He bites down on his lip, fingers tapping on Joel's shoulder as he looks up at his husband.
"I like her," he says again, leaning back against the couch. "Maybe-- I know we're not in a big rush, I know that, but maybe it would be worth meeting with her? Just to see what she's like in person?" He knows that what they see in this profile and what they find in real life may not quite add up, but Spencer doesn't see the harm in at least taking the chance.