The Surrogate's Secret

by Mimi Barbour

  Paula whispered with force. “Sheri, you’re frightening me. Are you okay? You’ve turned so pale. You didn’t know, did you? I’m so sorry. I’d have thought either Miguel or Andrea would have told you.” When Sheri closed her eyes and shook her head in a negative way, Paula continued. “Me and my big mouth. I’m going to shut-up now.”

  “No.” Sheri gathered her backbone from the puddle it had formed and tried to reshape it by memory. She was strong and also a big fat idiot.

  Evoked by guilt, the image of Miguel playing with the twins and loving them so tenderly wouldn’t be shattered by excuses for her selfish behavior. The fact that she hadn’t known of his plight didn’t enter into her mind at that point either.

  My poor beloved. Those words entered, took root and wouldn’t leave. Knowledge of his pain seeped in, and the evident love hiding in her heart reacted by flying right out of her chest, heading straight for his. Her husband. She truly loved him. Oh, Lordy! She loved him more than… too much.

  Paula, clearing her throat, pulled her back to their conversation. “Don’t worry. I’m so glad you told me. It answers questions I’ve had about some of Andrea’s comments. I guess she thought Miguel had already shared.”

  “But he hasn’t.”

  “No. He’s said nothing.”

  “Since you already have the twins, he most likely thinks you’ll be satisfied with your family.”

  “But what about him?”

  “He loved Felipe so much. I’m sure that bringing up his children will go a long way to help him deal with his own situation. He’ll be their papá, a wonderful role model, and love them as if they were his own.”

  As an author, Sheri had always worked with words, knew their influence, their power, but until she heard that phrase spoken ‘love them as his own’, she’d never experienced that power against herself. They slammed her directly against the walls of her strong convictions, convictions between right and wrong. She began to hate herself and her past choices.

  To reveal her secret, tell her husband about her lies would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do and begging for his forgiveness, even harder.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Tonight he’d be marrying his wife for the second time and Miguel couldn’t stop grinning like some infatuated fool. After their recent nights of lovemaking, her taking the initiative to be the dominant lover, he’d inflated a vision of ‘forever after’ in his mind. The beautiful picture wouldn’t go away. Thus, the vows presented for them to say this evening would be a lot more meaningful than those he’d previously repeated.

  The house had been a hive of activity ever since Paula had spirited Sheri to the small village of Pomaire for the day. Trucks full of flowers and wedding paraphernalia had been arriving non-stop, while the wedding planners with blackberries and IPads clutched to their chests ran from room to room overseeing the details.

  There were strategically placed arrangements of pink and white magnolias dressed up with ribbons and ferns to catch one’s eye. Many were attached in a dramatic display in the living room where they were to say their vows, while others were artistically arrayed around the part of the house where the guests would congregate.

  The heady aroma of the flowers attacked his senses. He stopped to take a whiff of the scent remembering how Sheri had tossed her wedding bouquet into a trashcan. Also how, days later, he’d seen the same flowers in a vase in her bedroom.

  What was with him lately? His emotions rode too close to the surface for his liking. He shrugged away his nostalgia and decided to try to grab a few minutes down time before the festivities took over.

  He knew that Andrea slept while Maria stood guard on her and the babies to make sure they weren’t upset with all that was happening in the rest of the house. Guests were due to start arriving in a couple of hours. Paula and Sheri were expected home later, giving them enough time to prepare the bride for a wedding day she’d never forget.

  Andrea, wanting to make the day perfect for Sheri, had been pumping her for information on her closest friends. She’d thought to fly them in on one of their charter jets. As it turned out, Mary-Anne had held that position of honor with Charlie coming in a close second.

  Guilt chipped away a little of Miguel’s happiness. He’d told Andrea that he’d tried and failed to get in touch with Sheri’s friend Charlie. In fact, he hadn’t even tried. Fine, call him a jealous fool, but he couldn’t swallow having to share his wife on this day with the man who she constantly professed to love.

  Therefore, they’d have to rely on the Rivera family and their friends to be guests for this special occasion. Since Sheri had met a few already, like Paula, Miguel knew she wouldn’t feel too alone. He’d be with her the whole time.

  He tried to picture her face when she returned from the day’s touring to find the fairy-tale princess gown and all the trappings draped across her bed. He’d been forbidden to go into the room, but Andrea’s gushing descriptions gave him the perfect mental picture. He hoped the outfit Paula chose would be everything his wife could ever want, everything she’d ever envisioned for her special day.

  He had obsessed over whether or not to present her with the family ring before the ceremony or during. After all, the ring she now wore had been a quick choice bought in Washington so he’d have something to give her during the ceremony. She very seldom wore it, saying it felt wrong. This time the ceremony would be for real, meant to last forever. Therefore, he wanted her to have the ring she deserved.

  Sometime over the last few nights of passion, he’d started thinking of his shy lover as his woman and not just his wife. Many times, while at the office, her sweet face popped into his mind as he floated in and out of arousing fantasies. Then he’d rush home at night to make those daydreams come true.

  Belief that a marriage built on trust and friendship could emerge to one full of happiness had started him on this journey in the first place. It’s what kept him from yielding to the hovering sadness too often; from dealing with the shit that the indiscriminate forces of life had thrown across his path. Things like how much he missed Felipe and how much he wished him here as his best man

  One thing did bother him, though. Every so often, he’d be surprised by a look of guilt Sheri wore that always had him cringing away from coming right out and asking her what was wrong.

  “Miguel?” Andrea approached from behind and caught his shoulder, startling him. “Charlie just called for Sheri and knows nothing about the party tonight. You told me that had been taken care of.”

  He wouldn’t turn around. His mother read him like a book, and he knew he couldn’t pull off any bullshit with her. “I left messages. I guess they never got through.”

  “What a shame. It would have been lovely for her best friend to be here with her. I guess the family will just have step in and make this a special night.”

  He turned and wrapped his arms around the woman who he’d loved all his life, the woman who’d always held first place in his heart and now would need to move over. “We’ll make this an evening she won’t forget.”

  “Yes, we will. Now, here is Sheri’s iPad and the last message from Charlie with the e-mail address. Please write this moment, and apologize for the mistake.” She forced him to take what he didn’t want, and left him holding the damn thing. Fine! He’d write and cover his ass. No reason to lie to her later. This way he’d have the proof that he’d tried to contact her friend.

  Miguel didn’t mean to scroll down the page after he read Charlie’s scant message saying only that he’d call Sheri back. Except he did. The words staring at him made him physically ill. Beatings he’d suffered as a prisoner in the jungle didn’t come close to giving him as much pain that coursed through him at this moment.

  My friend, I need you so much. You know I’ve lied to Miguel from the beginning, and I still haven’t gotten up the nerve to tell him the truth. If only you were here to help me through this horrible time. Please come soon like you’ve promised. With your help, I
know I can do what needs to be done. If everything falls apart, we can go back to our plans to get a house together.

  Love you…

  Sheri

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Later that evening, in her husband’s arms, Sheri felt like a princess dancing with the devil. He’d never looked at her with eyes so cold before. She hated how they made her feel. What had happened to him? Where was her gentle lover from the night before?

  The evening ceremony had been beautiful. Her sappy tears shared with Paula and Andrea. She’d even seen a sentimental smile crack Maria’s stern face as she’d forced a tissue on Juan, who was openly weeping. If only Miguel had enjoyed the event, things would have been perfect. She had to ask herself, how many husbands would surprise their wives with a dream wedding? He had to have done it to please her, and he’d succeeded, so why did he frown so?

  Most embarrassing had been the moment when the priest had asked for the ring. Miguel had stiffened and slowly reached into his pocket and then pulled his hand out as if he’d been bitten. Coughs, shuffling, and cleared throats could be heard around the room. Finally, she’d taken off her ring and handed it to him, the ring he’d given her in Washington, the ring she’d only lately begun to wear as it felt like it meant something since their last few wonderful nights together.

  Earlier, when Sheri returned home and seen all the decorations. Andrea admitted to their conniving. “Darling, Miguel wanted to tell you, but he must have missed your arrival. Tonight, he’s arranged for you two to be remarried, to have a proper ceremony. He’s told us how he’d cheated you out of your day in Washington, and that he wanted you to have better memories to cherish.”

  “It’s a party? For us?”

  “Yes. Everything’s arranged. All you have to do is go and get ready. Paula will help you.” Andrea turned to include the smiling Paula who had held back so as not to be the first through the door.

  Flabbergasted and delighted, Sheri ran to their suite to seek Miguel, and instead found her wedding finery spread over the gold cover. She swept the beautiful white satin creation up, held it in front of her, and watched the flounces swirl while she twirled around the room. The full-length mirror beckoned as she danced her way to pose in front.

  Her hair, a mass of blonde curls that had escaped the scrunchy, now framed her face and caught her attention. Hot rollers, big fat ones would fix the mess. Then she stared into her own shimmering multi-toned brown eyes so like those of her Irish mother. Happiness glowed right back at her

  Was this radiant woman Sheri O’Connor Rivera? She’d never seen herself looking so happy, so in love. Laying her gown gently back onto the bed, she again searched for her husband and found him in the nursery leaning over the crib while staring at the sleeping twins. She launched herself into his arms and kissed him with abandon.

  Whispering so as not to disturb the babies, she said. “Miguel, thank you for the gorgeous dress, I’ve never owned anything like it.”

  He wrenched himself from her arms and turned away to walk across the room. “I’m glad you like it. Go now, and get ready.” The shadows hid his face but even a fool couldn’t mistake his rejection.

  “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

  “You must go. I’m not supposed to see you until the ceremony.” He waved his fingers as if he brushed at some dirt in the air.

  Still sensing a problem, she hesitated. “Are you sure? You’re okay?”

  “Yes. Scram. Before the little ones wake up and see you. They’ll never settle down again with you here. I believe Maria wanted them to nap so they’d be able to stay up later tonight. My mother is finally getting the opportunity to show off her grandchildren and nothing must stand in her way.”

  She backed out of the room, her eyes never leaving his stiff profile. As she closed the door, his hands caught her attention. They were fisted and white from the pressure he’d exerted.

  Something had happened. This wasn’t the same man, who, only this morning had kissed her so many times before he’d left for work that he’d given up and gotten back into their bed.

  After the shocking news Paula had exposed this afternoon, about his inability to father children, she’d made up her mind not to let another day pass without telling him the truth. The secret that now weighed her down, plaguing her conscience and needed to be told. Her plan to confess after they’d made love seemed the most logical, and obviously the most cowardly. Sheri knew in her heart that once she’d satisfied him with her body, he’d be much more amiable. Hopefully, he’d feel so relaxed that happy relief, and not anger, would be his dominant emotion.

  All through the time she’d gotten ready, while Paula helped with her hair and Andrea assisted with her makeup, she’d fretted over her decision, worrying that her coward’s side had made the wrong choice. Now, that the ceremony was over and the dancing had begun, it was too late to change her mind.

  The music wound down as the song came to an end. Paula broke into her reverie and beckoned her from arms more than willing to let her go. They both watched as Miguel walked across the room straight to the bar where he’d spent a fair amount of time already.

  “What is wrong with Miguel? He’s been acting very strange tonight,” Paula whispered.

  “I don’t know. He won’t talk to me. When I tried to ask him earlier, he made light of his behavior and said he’d been working too hard.”

  “What rubbish!”

  “That’s sort of what I thought. I’ll have him alone later and then I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

  “Good. Now you must throw the bouquet. Everyone is waiting. Then you and Miguel can cut the cake and pose for pictures.”

  “More? It seems like hundreds of flashes have gone off since the evening began.”

  “Quit whining, you lucky girl. How many women get to pose next to such a hunk?”

  The familiar phrase made her giggle. Paula loved the word ‘hunk,’ and with her keen eye always on the lookout, and the Chilean males being some of the best looking in the world, she used it obsessively. “I suppose he makes me look good. Is he at least smiling when they take the photos?”

  “Not so you’d notice. I stuck my tongue out at him during the last bunch and he lightened up for a few minutes. We’re not the only ones baffled. I caught Andrea giving him hell earlier, and since then, he seems better.”

  “I wish he’d talk to me. I wonder if it’s really something with work that’s upset him?”

  “Ladies, I need to cut in. Paula you’re hogging the bride, and I still haven’t had my dance with her yet. Please introduce us, so she won’t think I’m some jerk trying to come-on to her.” Blond, slim and attractive in a beautifully tailored gray suit, the man held out his hand and appraised her at the same time as she did her own surveillance.

  “Sheri, this is Nick Wharton, a very good friend of the family. Mi amigo, this is Miguel’s bride, Sheri. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted while I organize the battle over the bouquet.” Sheri watched her gesture to the band before leaving them, and wasn’t surprised when they started playing a slow waltz.

  “Have you and Miguel been friends for long?” Interested in everything about her husband, Sheri questioned her amber-eyed partner.

  “Since we were kids. As were my father and his before we were born. Our families go back a long way. We spent our college years together—”

  “Getting into mischief, no doubt.”

  “Nah! We were the good guys. Nerds, totally into our studies. Okay. I can tell by that pretty little sneer, you don’t believe a word of that nonsense.”

  “You’d be right. My guess is you guys spent a lot of time getting into trouble and trying not to get caught.”

  A strange expression wiped the smile from his face and he peered at her closely. “Miguel told you about my capture in Colombia?”

  “You were captured too? I knew he’d been a prisoner, but he doesn’t talk about it much. It must have been horrible.”

  “The terrorists a
mbushed me and three other political prisoners. During the operation when Miguel freed us, they took him hostage. It was brutal. Then Andrea got him out. My father was dying at the time or I would have gone instead. If that wasn’t bad enough, my good friend helped me again not too long ago. The same crazies imprisoned me here in Santiago the first day you’d arrived, and Miguel came to the rescue. This time we uncovered the person behind everything.”

  “It’s over then. You’re safe now.”

  He nodded satisfaction prominent on his face. “Oh yes. This morning Miguel’s testimony in court ensured that the worst of the culprits would get what was coming to her.”

  “Her? A woman was involved?” Sheri knew the shock in her voice must be displayed on her face. She hadn’t expected to hear the word woman in junction with crazies and Colombian terrorists.

  A strange look appeared before he ducked his head and swung her around in a circle. “Forget it. I talk too much.”

  “Who went to jail?” Misgivings changed to fear, as a sick sense turned her insides to ice. She came close to letting it slide until her stubborn need to know took over. “Nick, who did he send to jail?”

  The switch from debonair to sheepish ensured him a place in her heart from that moment on, and she almost cut him some slack. In spite of this, she had to know. It would explain so much. Why, for instance, today her passionate lover had become a stranger. “Tell me,” she reiterated. “I need to understand.” She tightened her hold on his hand and jiggled it in her insistence.

  “You already do. It’s written on your face. I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you.”

  “Margarita’s the reason he’s suffered this terrible ordeal? She did this to him, his own fiancé? Why, the black-hearted bitch.”

  “My sentiments exactly and she’s not just a part of it. She was completely responsible.”

  “My poor Miguel.” Thoughts boomeranged in Sheri’s mind. He’d loved the woman, and she’d hurt him.