by Imani King
"Well you've got that GQ shoot next week - maybe you should hike Runyon."
The GQ shoot - I'd forgotten all about it. It looked like I was going to be joining Vanessa in her boneless skinless chicken breasts and vegetables-only diet for the next few days.
The paparazzi did their best to rile me - shouting the usual disgusting accusations and leading questions when I finally left The Ivy with Lisa, but my mood had improved slightly. Instead of scowling I just faced the nearest man and gave him a big smile:
"I love my wife very much. Have a nice evening, boys."
Sometimes, Lisa would send the paparazzi pizza or a round of iced coffees to keep them sweet but they could smell blood in the water and she knew a few comestibles wasn't going to put them off. When we got the doors of the SUV closed behind us and the driver pulled away from the curb, Lisa turned to me.
"I hope you're telling me the truth, Blake. Because you know those vultures are going to do everything they can to turn this into a lucrative scandal."
Chapter 7: Natasha
Blake Charlton kept his promise not to contact me unless it was about the surrogacy and Rosa made sure I was OK, going out of her way to spend more time with me than usual and just generally being her caring, solicitous self. Within a week or so I was feeling much more like myself. The brief interaction with Blake was an anomalous episode, a frivolity, not something I needed to think about too much. Or so I tried to tell myself. I took a temporary job as a secretary at one of the big studios. It was very low paid but it came with vague promises of 'promotion' and I threw myself into it with gusto, answering phones and sucking up to VIPs like I was born to it. The next time I heard from anyone in Blake's camp it was the lawyer, Barrington. He was loud and straight to the point:
"The egg retrieval is set for this weekend and then the embryo transfer sometime next week - can you make time for it, let's say Wednesday or Thursday, depending on how things go?"
"Sure," I told him, "no problem."
That night, I got a text from Blake:
"It looks like next week might be the big one! If you need anything, let me know."
I didn't want to be rude and ignore it, but I also didn't want to start up another destabilizing cycle of communication that was just going to have me all starry-eyed again so I just replied with a short, friendly "Thanks :)" and left it at that.
Rosa was onto the change in my mood as soon as she got home from work:
"Oh Nat, did you see him again?"
I shook my head no and told her about the text.
"Good. Well, I'll come with you next week like we arranged. Are you scared?"
I thought about it. No, I wasn't scared. The first attempt was going to be a 'natural' cycle - meaning I wasn't going to be required to take any drugs or hormones. The fertility doctor said that me and Vanessa were both young and healthy and we had time to try it naturally before moving on to various other treatments if it didn't work. So I wasn't scared, per se, but I was apprehensive. The truth was I hadn't liked Vanessa at our first and only meeting and even though I didn't pry too badly in any of my conversations with Blake I could sense that all was not perfect with the Charltons. Was having a baby for a woman I disliked - or for a couple who may be in a precarious marriage - the right thing?
It was too late for me to back out either way, the papers were all signed. Besides, I recognized the over-thinking as the inherent-to-me trait it was. Happy marriage or not, Blake Charlton could afford the best of everything for any child he fathered - world travel, the best schools, the best food and medical care. And although he definitely moved in much higher social circles than I did, and he seemed to have that particular brand of ignorance that many very wealthy people do when it comes to how most of us live our lives, he had come across as a basically decent person and not some arrogant superstar with an ego the size of a planet.
As it turned out, my own natural cycle coincided almost perfectly with the egg retrieval so there was no need to freeze any of the embryos or delay things. The day dawned like most days in Los Angeles - hot and sunny - and Rosa drove me to the clinic. I watched the dusty, slightly shabby streets of my own neighborhood slowly morph into the spotless, palm-lined streets of Beverly Hills where all the lawns were a lush green and all the little blonde children were accompanied by their noticeably non-white nannies.
"Damn," Rosa commented, noticing exactly the same things I had, "this is a different world, isn't it?"
I thought about the amount of money I was going to make from the surrogacy - a hundred and fifty thousand dollars - it felt like so much. It was so much - to me, anyway. It was enough to change my life. But it wouldn't even pay for a weeklong vacation for the people who lived in the well-tended mansions that lined both sides of the street we were driving down. Most of the cars parked in the driveways - flashy Lamborghinis and huge, tricked out Land Rovers with headlights that looked like shark's eyes - cost more than what I was getting paid to carry a life inside me. A life that would go on to become a child, and a child who would live in one of these places and never know what it felt like to worry about where their next meal was coming from. I didn't feel bitter or resentful, I was just quietly intrigued by the surroundings - it's so much easier to ignore how the other half live when you don't spend any time with them.
"Well, maybe you can just have babies for rich people for twenty years and buy one of these houses for yourself," said Rosa, probably having the same thoughts I was. I laughed and nodded:
"Yeah, right. You can move in and we can drink bellinis all day and have affairs with hot pool boys."
When we arrived at the clinic Blake was already there in the waiting room, looking nervous. As soon as he saw me a big smile spread across his face:
"Natasha!"
I introduced him to Rosa, who did her best, bless her, but couldn't quite suppress the exact same reaction I'd had when I first met him - lots of bashful smiles and giggles.
Blake told us Vanessa was running late so we waited for half an hour or so and made slightly awkward small-talk until she texted him that she wasn't going to make it. He tried to play it off as no big deal but I thought I saw a shadow of annoyance cross his face as he looked down at his phone.
So we went ahead without Vanessa. There was a small moment when the nurse came out to get us and asked who would be coming in with me and Blake stood up at the same time as Rosa before shaking his head and smiling and saying "Oh, of course - yes, you two go in, I'll wait out here and keep my fingers crossed really hard."
I wouldn't have minded him coming in with me - in a way it seemed odd for him not to be there for the possible conception of his own child, but I knew Rosa would be against it and the very fact that I wanted him in there with me made me think it was probably a bad idea.
A few minutes later I was in a gown, naked from the waist down and with my feet in stirrups. Rosa was sitting beside my head squeezing my hand and grinning encouragement as the doctor warned me I might feel a small pinch.
"Ah, ow!" It was a bit more than 'a little pinch' but it only lasted for seconds and it was over before I knew it.
"Now, you need to lie down for about twenty minutes and then you can get dressed and be on your way!" The nurse patted me on the shoulder, made sure I was feeling OK and then left me alone in the examination room with Rosa. I looked over at her and she raised her eyebrows at me:
"This is so weird! You could be pregnant right now. Do you feel pregnant?"
I laughed. "I'm pretty sure it takes a little while to stick but yeah...I could be pregnant right now, I guess..."
We sat there marveling at the juxtaposition between the swift efficiency of the procedure and the enormous implications of the fact that we might just have been party to the creation of a new person. Then Rosa leaned in close to my ear and whispered:
"You weren't kidding, by the way. He is way hotter in person."
"Rosa!" I playfully smacked her arm and rolled my eyes. "That's not what you're supposed to be sa
ying!"
"I know. But seriously, Nat, did you see his eyes? His shoulders? Lord, have mercy."
I had definitely seen Blake Charlton's eyes and shoulders - I'd spent days desperately trying to forget them, actually. I knew Rosa was just kidding, though - just like I knew it would have been impossible for any red-blooded woman not to comment on Blake's insanity-level hotness.
When the twenty minutes was up the nurse came in and helped me off the table so I could get dressed. Blake was still in the waiting room, in the midst of what appeared to be an autograph signing session for the secretaries and nurses. He looked up when he saw me and there was a bit of an awkward moment where it felt like he was about to give me a hug but then he didn't and we all sort of stood there, unsure about what to do.
"So, how do you feel?"
"Fine," I replied, reaching down and patting my lower belly as if it might give me some clue as to what - if anything - was happening inside. "I feel...the same, no difference - it doesn't hurt at all."
"Good. Excellent. Where are you ladies off to, then? How about lunch?"
I looked at Rosa - she wanted to go to lunch, it was obvious. I should have turned Blake down but there was only so much resolve to go around so I smiled at him amidst the envious stares of the nurses and accepted his offer.
We ended up at a little hole-in-the-wall type place run by an older Mexican couple. Blake had his baseball cap and sunglasses disguise on but they recognized him as soon as he walked in, bustling out from behind the counter to clear a small table and flip the sign on the door around so it read 'Closed' to any other potential customers.
"The usual?"
Blake nodded as we took our seats:
"Yes, thank you Pedro - enough for all three of us, please."
Then he turned to me and Rosa and told us the place served the best fish tacos he'd ever eaten.
"I come here all the time - it's my secret fish-taco heaven and I forbid either of you to tell a single soul about it."
I could tell Blake was in his element - having lunch with two adoring young women and two more equally adoring old people, all of whom were hanging on his every word. Well, I like to think I held back a little but I was probably laughing a little too hard at all his quips as well. Rosa, to my amusement, proved even worse at resisting his high-wattage charm than I had - I half expected her hold onto his ankles crying when he tried to leave. At least she had the self-knowledge to slip me a few guilty smiles every now and again when there was a lull in the conversation.
"So," Rosa started at one point when I had a mouthful of what Blake had correctly called the tastiest fish tacos ever, "What is your wife so busy with?"
I would have kicked her under the table if the space hadn't been so small and crowded that there was no way of knowing whose leg I would have been kicking. Blake didn't seem to take any offense, though, although I suppose as an actor he was probably better at hiding it than most of us would have been.
"Mm," he said, waiting until he was finished chewing to continue, "She's, uh - she had something this morning - an audition I think? I don't know, but she couldn't make it." He looked at me: "She said to tell you she hopes it all goes well, though."
Perhaps Blake Charlton wasn't as good of a liar as I'd assumed, because that last bit - in fact most of what he'd just said - felt like a fairly obvious lie. Was Vanessa really this disinterested in the possible conception of her own child? I tried not to judge her. Maybe I didn't try very hard, though, because the attempt was unsuccessful.
To my surprise, Blake continued.
"Actually, to be honest, I'm not sure if she's into this whole baby idea."
"Really?" Rosa said, asking the question she knew I wasn't going to.
"Yeah. I mean, she wants a baby and she doesn't want to carry it herself but, I don't know - maybe it's just not real to her right now? She'll come around when the baby is actually here, I'm sure."
Blake was covering his ass and everyone knew it, including him. I was embarrassed by Rosa's questions - not saying I wasn't thankful that she asked them, because I was just as curious as she was, if not more so - but mostly I felt sad. It was the look on Blake's face. He was definitely trying to convince himself that what he was saying was true more than he was trying to convince myself or Rosa. I caught myself wondering yet again, as I had so often done since I met him, why he had actually married Vanessa. He was famous for his bachelor status - in interview after interview he'd reiterated his intention to stay unattached until he was much older. Vanessa was pretty, sure, but we were in Los Angeles and he was Blake Charlton - if pretty was all he needed he could have had his pick of supermodels. Perhaps Vanessa was one of those closed-off people, the kind you have to know really well before they show you their true selves - and perhaps her true self was very different from the public face she presented to everyone else?
The three of us lingered over our fish tacos and the ice-cold, fresh-squeezed fruit juice Pedro's wife Maria kept bringing us. At least two hours had passed before the chiming of Blake's phone became so frequent he could no longer ignore it.
"Oh, shit! I had a meeting an hour ago!" he laughed when he finally checked his messages. "Give me a sec, I need to make a quick phone call."
Blake offered us a ride home but we'd actually driven our shared car to the appointment and we didn't want to leave it sitting in the parking lot so Rosa was reluctantly forced to turn down his offer. He had his driver drop us off back at the clinic and just as we were getting out and saying our thank-yous for lunch and the ride, Blake looked me right in the eye:
"Natasha, call me if you need anything, OK? The money should already be in your account but I mean anything - if you're not feeling well or if you have any questions or even if you just want to talk - call me."
Oh God why was he making it so difficult? He looked so sexy in his suit in the back of the SUV, but he also looked so human - so almost childlike in his exhortations to call him if I needed to. All I wanted to do was call him. But how could I? How could I do that knowing my heart was going to lead me to impossible places if I did?
"Sure, no problem. I'll call you if anything comes up." I said.
We were back in our own little rust-bucket of a car on the highway when Rosa finally reached the outer limits of her ability to contain herself:
"Oh my God, Natasha, he is - he so has a thing for you."
It was flattering, of course. Never in my life did I dream a man like Blake would have anything like a crush - even a silly, fleeting crush - on me. But it was also annoying. Rosa had been very clear with me with regards to my behavior with Blake, and how it was and wasn't advisable to handle things with him.
"Rosa, come on..." I rolled down a window as the air conditioning died and the heat of the afternoon started to turn the interior of the car up to sweltering.
"I'm serious, Nat! You should have seen the way he was looking at you! And when you were talking - damn, he was really paying attention!"
I didn't have to say anything and it didn't take long for Rosa to realize she was handling things badly. She reached across the center console and patted me on the knee.
"Oh Nat, I'm sorry. I'm being a total jerk - I just - I dunno, I think I'm a little starstruck or something, he is just so, so damn fine."
She didn't have to explain it to me. My irritation faded away as I realized I couldn't really blame her for her reaction - I would have been just the same - I was just the same. Besides, she did check herself when she saw I wasn't as excited about it all as she was. By the time we were back at the apartment she was genuinely contrite. She poured me a glass of semi-flat, semi-cold Coke and brought it into the living room where I was sitting, sweaty with the heat.
"Nat, seriously. I - I feel like an ass right now - that's the last thing you needed, me going all crazy like that."
"It's OK," I told her, "I'm not upset, really. But I'm going to need you to be on my side here. You know I can't call him just as well as I do and I'm not sure I can stick to
it without you helping me."
Rosa's expression was serious now. "I know. It sucks that he's married, but he is. I'm almost mad at him for being so charming and nice, though! He shouldn't be allowed to act like that around women."
"I know," I agreed, grateful that Rosa had gotten to the heart of the matter - he was too charming and too sexy and too sweet and too everything. It wasn't fair.
I looked down at my belly and then at Rosa, both of us wondering if the little spark of life placed there a few hours ago was, at that very moment, in the process of taking hold.
Chapter 8: Blake
"Where were you? We waited for you," I asked Vanessa when she got home at past eleven o'clock on the night of the embryo transfer. I didn't even bother trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
"Oh, Blake, I'm so sorry! I really wanted to come but that audition I had ran long and then I had a meeting with Harry and time just got away from me."
Harry was Vanessa's manager and I had half a mind to call him and ask if there really had been an audition but in the end I suppose it didn't really matter what she'd been doing - she wasn't at the appointment and that was the important thing. I caught my wife's eye before she could scuttle up to her closet to put away whatever it was in the armfuls of bags she was carrying.
"Vanessa, be honest. Do you even want a baby? What if the embryo transfer is successful? Is it really too much to ask that you be there?"
Vanessa dropped all her bags on the floor and I watched her wrestling with her instinct to start yelling.
"Blake, I said I'm sorry. I wanted to be there. Didn't Dr. Franco say the odds of it happening on the first try were low? I'll be there next time, I promise," she replied, hardly pausing before screeching for our housekeeper: "Lupita! Lupita! I need some bags taken upstairs!"
Saccharine niceness appeared to be Vanessa's new tactic. Instead of throwing a tantrum, these days she was dealing with me differently and the fact that her aggression was now of the passive variety didn't matter a damn when it came to actually being able to talk about things like adults. I gave up and went back to the stack of paperwork Barrington had dropped off for me to sign as Lupita rushed into the room and scooped up Vanessa's purchases to take up to the closet.
