by Amy Brent
"So that's it?" I asked. "I'm pregnant?"
"Potentially," Doctor Kamal's voice came from the door. "We just need to make sure everything's going the way we planned. We have a few days where we'll all be holding our breath. I wouldn't pop the champagne - or in Camille's case, the fruit juice - just yet."
Mark gave Marina a pointed look, but it was over so fast I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it.
"I want you to come back in the next three days and we'll do a scan, see what's going on in there. I'm sure it will all be fine, but it will be good to know for sure we're in the clear."
He put a hand on Marina's shoulder. His hand was dark against the butter yellow of her blouse, the wheat color of her hair. Bottle blond? Surely not. That would be cheap.
"Thank you for everything," Mark said and held out his hand. Doctor Kamal removed his hand from Marina's shoulder to shake Mark's hand.
"We have a long road ahead of us but we're off to a good start. That's always a great sign."
Marina nodded and smiled. Mark just smiled. Doctor Kamal excused himself and left the room. Mark sat down again. For a moment a very awkward silence hung between us.
"Are you carrying on with your classes for the duration of the pregnancy?" Marina asked. I nodded. I couldn't afford to stop it all now. That was what this was all for.
Marina's cell phone rang and she left the room to answer. Mark was left alone with me. He cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the bed. I wasn't sure what he was nervous about but his list was getting increasingly long.
"I want you to keep in touch with us, let us know how things are going. We'll be there during the sonar scans and I'll send you a check once a month for your allowance, anything you need."
My head was still spinning from the medication but the concept an allowance every month made me feel like I was floating. I'd been stressing about money so badly. I could pay my studies with it and make sure I had all my books.
"Thank you so much."
Mark shook his head. "Whatever you need, Camille."
His eyes fell on mine and they were drowning deep. He smiled and the small wrinkles around his eyes fanned out, changing his face completely. A real smile was so much hotter on him than a fake one. The air around us changed. It got thicker and I struggled to breathe.
"It can't be easy sacrificing nine months of your student life to have someone else's baby."
The current in the air broke and I felt like gasping for air, the disappointment hitting me square in the chest. Of course, the baby. Whatever I needed to make sure the baby was healthy and safe. God, I was such a fool. It had to be the meds in my system making me think stupid shit like Mark actually caring about me as a person. He was married with a baby on the way - I was the surrogate mom - and I was here thinking all sorts of romantic thoughts about him. I had to be high on medication.
Marina came back into the room. Her eyes were sparkling. When she looked at Mark it was like she dimmed a little. Or was I just dreaming? I was building stories around Mark's confession, the small snippet of an argument I'd heard, what I wanted from Mark. It would be convenient for me if he was interested in me and the spark between him and his wife had died. It would be perfectly disgusting, in fact. It was disgusting that I'd thought it at all.
What a bitch I was being. Here they were, on their way to starting a family together, and I was being nasty about it.
"We have to get going, honey," Marina said. Mark nodded and looked at me.
"Will you be fine?" I took it for what it was this time - a question about the carrier of his baby - and nodded. "You'll probably be able to go back to your dorm in the morning."
I nodded again and smiled at them. Marina leaned over me and gave me an awkward hug.
"Thank you so much for what you're doing for us. We're happier than you know."
She touched my face and they left my room. Her perfume lingered around me after they'd gone. That was what it was all about. They were happy together. They wanted this baby together. I was being ridiculous. I was going to carry this through, give them what they deserved, and behave, otherwise.
I closed my eyes again, suddenly tired. This was going to be a long road; the Doctor had said. I agreed with him. Classes, tests, exams, pregnancy. I was going to juggle it all. I just had to tell Sharon. She still didn't know. I wasn't sure how to say it to her.
It was something I could worry about later, though. Right now, sleep sounded like the best plan. I took a deep breath, let it out again, and let the medication in my system drag me under again to a deep, warm, black hole.
Mark
We had a baby on the way. We had a baby room ready from all the times we'd been trying. We - or at least, I - looked at finances. It wasn't necessary, of course, I would always have enough to care for the child. I did it anyway. Another responsibility, another life, another person in my life that was somehow dependent on me. We announced it to our friends before I felt comfortable with the idea but she waited as long as she was willing to, which was more than she initially would have if I hadn't fought her with it.
Celebrations had happened. They were planning a baby shower. They were just waiting until we knew what the gender was, what colors to arrange. Blue or pink. Yellow, green, gray, those were out. Those were for people who didn’t know, people who didn’t plan right. Materialism could run as far as colors when you had enough money. Sometimes I didn’t understand who Marina had become.
I sent Camille a check for the first two months. I didn’t mail it the third. I got in the car, the check signed and in an envelope on my passenger seat, and I drove to the college where she studied. I needed to get out of the house. It was one of the biggest houses in the neighborhood, the most expensive. I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I was in it, like it was too small, closing down on me, suffocating me. Of course, I was just being dramatic. My life was perfect. Everybody told me so. Most days I told that to myself, too. There had been a time when I believed my own lies, but somewhere along the way I’d learned not to trust myself when I told myself how happy I was. That was the start of a very slippery slope.
The dorm was a lot like the one where I’d studied, a thousand years ago. It felt like a different life, now, a different person altogether. The brown bricks had faded to a deep, dark color. The steps up to the front door were hollowed out they’d seen so many students’ feet and everywhere there was the sign of life and ambition, sparkling eyes, new goals, the beginning of a journey. Don’t trust the golden glow, I wanted to tell them, there’s still a chance you can end up like me.
Her door was closed and music came from underneath it, a tune that crawled under my skin. I knocked on the door, loudly, so she could hear me.
The door opened and the music rolled out of it. She stood in front of me wearing pajama bottoms that only covered the most important bits and a t-shirt with Sylvester and Tweety on it. Long, caramel legs went on forever. Her curly hair was pulled back, emphasizing big, surprised eyes.
“Mark.”
I nodded.
She leaned to the side and the music clicked off. I wanted it back. It had been warm and comfortable. I held up the envelope.
“I brought you your check.”
She took it from me, tracing a finger around the corner before looking up at me.
“Trouble at the post office,” I lied. I didn’t have a good reason to be here and now I felt out of place. I could be any of these kids’ father. Soon I would be. The idea made me feel like I was choking.
“Are you alright?” Camille asked and she sounded worried. A teenager was worried about me, one of the wealthiest men in town.
“Fine, fine.” I waved my hand.
“Do you want to come in?”
I peered over her shoulder into the dorm room. It was small, cozy, full of posters and books. I shouldn’t say yes. I should turn around and go home, I knew that. I nodded and stepped into the room when she held open the door.
It was warm in her room. Comfortable. She c
leared the chair for me, stacking the books on her desk instead so that I could sit down and climbed on her bed. She crossed her legs and pushed a pillow into her lap. Thank God. Her legs were so damn distracting.
“Are you enjoying your studies?” I asked. The books on the desk were all finance books. Terribly boring for someone so out there as Camille. She looked like she should be doing art or music or drama instead.
She shrugged. “It’s a degree. I can get a job with it. It’s something my family hasn’t had for a while. The degree, I mean.”
I nodded.
“Your family must be proud.”
I thought about the baby. The girl sitting opposite me was pregnant with my child. My and Marina’s child.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I felt like an idiot the moment I asked. That shouldn’t matter.
She chuckled and the sound of her laughter was light and airy. Her eyes sparkled and I liked seeing her smile.
“Between having a baby and studying finances I won’t have much time for dating.”
Right. The baby. It wouldn’t work if she was in a relationship. I should have known.
“I am sure they’re all falling at your feet, though, a gorgeous girl like you.”
I snapped my mouth shut the moment I’d said it, wondering where the hell that had come from. I wasn’t flirting with her, was I? I was just making conversation. That was it. When I looked at her again she was smiling but the smile was softer than before. She shrugged with one shoulder and her breasts moved underneath her shirt. I forced my eyes away.
“I don’t really think I’m cut out for dating,” she said. She was volunteering information. I paid attention, taking the distraction.
“Why?”
She shrugged. I kept my eyes glued to her face. “I just don’t think I’d be good in a relationship. I can’t seem to figure out what I want, and no one wants someone like that.”
I frowned. “You’d be surprised how many people out there have no idea what they’re doing.”
Like me. I had no idea. I wasn’t going to admit to that, though.
“You have Marina.”
She just had to point that out. I nodded. “I do. But sometimes I wonder if I’ve done the wrong thing. If I married the wrong woman.”
She raised her eyebrows at me. Thin and manicured eyebrows. Everything about her was natural and beautiful.
“That’s a very heavy statement for someone who’s about to have a baby.”
I nodded. I knew it was. I should have kept my mouth shut. Instead, I kept talking like I was drunk or something. I just couldn’t help it. There was something about Camille that made me feel like saying what I wanted to say wasn’t wrong, like she wouldn’t judge me for it. When was the last time I felt like I could tell Marina anything?
“How do you know if it’s the right woman?” she asked. It was a fair question. It was the kind of question she was entitled to ask at her age. I should have asked someone that question when I was her age.
“I think it has to be someone you’re comfortable with, someone you can talk to. Someone you run to when you feel like everything is crashing around you.”
I stopped talking. Those words described her in a lot of ways. Thank God she didn’t know what I was thinking. She nodded and fiddled with the edge of the pillow.
“Sometimes the person you’re comfortable with isn’t the person anyone that makes sense, though. Sometimes things can get really crazy.”
Was she talking about me? Of course not. I was being ridiculous now. I was just in a bad place. And the wrong place. I shouldn’t be here. I slapped my hands down on my knees and got up.
“I have to get going.”
I walked to the door. Camille got off her bed and that put her right up against me. I heard her breath catch in her throat. I was aware of how close she was. I pushed the thoughts away. I was being ridiculous. Marina. I had to think of Marina and the baby. The baby Camille was carrying.
Shit.
I pushed the thoughts away and she pulled the door open for me.
“Thank you for the money.”
I nodded without looking at her and walked away. I waited until I heard the door click shut. It felt like it took forever. When it finally did, I turned around and looked back.
The drive home was restless. I felt like there were bugs on my skin. My clothes irritated me. The traffic was too heavy, I was edgy and irritated. I had to go to the office to pick up the documents I needed to send off but I didn’t feel like all the glass and chrome – another prison. Instead, I just drove home.
There was a car in the driveway, one I didn’t recognize. I opened the front door.
“Honey?”
No answer. The lounge was empty. No one on the terrace. I started up the stairs. The house was quiet. Quiet and full, like a secret, not like loneliness. I pushed the bedroom door open.
She was on the bed, naked. Her blond hair hung down her back. Hands gripped her hips, dark against her light skin. I knew what I was seeing but I didn’t feel anything. I cleared my throat.
She whipped her head around and her face changed to a mask of horror. She tumbled off the man she’d been fucking and clutched the sheets to her chest like I hadn’t seen her naked before. I looked at him. Doctor Kamal.
“Mark.” Her voice was pleading. He looked at me, frozen, unsure what I was going to do.
“I’m going to go for a drive,” I said. My voice was calm. It sounded distant like it didn’t belong to me. “When I get back I would like for you to be dressed.” I looked at Kamal. “And you… you had better be gone by the time I get back.”
The last sentence was a threat. My calm voice made it sound that much more menacing. I turned around and walked back downstairs, taking my car keys from the counter. I didn’t know this person. I didn’t know myself. Then again, when last had I known myself?
Camille
My doctor’s visit was coming up. I was starting to get nervous. I’d been to the doctor jut after implantation to make sure everything had gone well, but after that, it had been life as normal. Except for the fact that I couldn’t drink and that I threw up all the time. Why did they call it morning sickness? It hit you any damn time of the day.
Sharon and a few other friends knew what I was doing. They all thought I was crazy. Sharon thought I was making a mistake but at least she understood why I was doing it. She’d been there when I’d lost all that money, after all.
I couldn’t get through to Marina. I’d tried to call her a couple of times during the last week but there was no answer. I wanted her to be there when we found out the baby’s sex. I expected she wanted to be there.
I’d tried calling Mark, too. He was just as unreachable. I wasn’t sure where I stood with him if I had to be honest. I felt like he was very raw and open toward me. I didn’t mind it – in fact, I liked it – but I wasn’t sure how he saw it. Still, I needed to get a hold of one of them before the doctor’s visit. It was their baby, after all.
Two days before the appointment I skipped my last class and got on the bus. It took me all the way across town. I got off and walked the last few blocks to the address that was on Mark’s check. I stopped in front of the house and double checked the address.
The house was enormous, the way you saw on the MTV sometimes. Through the slatted gate I could see everything. The driveway led up to a modern block of a house, painted a sandy color with plants everywhere that made it rich and exotic.
I took a deep breath. Of course, if they had so much money to spend on a surrogate mother they had to be rich. I pressed the button on the intercom. A little round lens told me he’d be able to see my face when he answered. Or Marina. She could answer, too, obviously.
“Camille?” It was his voice crackling over the speakers and I breathed easier. She made me nervous.
“Hi, yeah. It’s Camille.”
The gate rolled open and I walked in. I was starting to show a belly, not much but it was something, and my energy wasn’t what i
t used to be. The front door opened before I reached it. Mark looked tired when I finally stood in front of him. He hadn’t shaven in a few days, stubble shabby on his chin and he had circles under his eyes suggested he’d slept very little or not at all. He stepped to the side to let me in.
“Is everything alright?” He sounded a little worried. “Is the baby okay?”
I nodded. “As far as I know everything is fine, but I couldn’t get a hold of either of you. I have an appointment coming up, we’re supposed to meet with Doctor Kamal the day after tomorrow to find out the baby’s gender.”
Mark nodded and walked through to the kitchen. I followed him. The house was as luxurious on the inside as on the outside. There were paintings on the wall, original stuff, and furniture that probably cost more than my entire degree a piece. Mark stood in the kitchen.
“It’s a little chaotic at the moment. I think we might need to postpone the doctor’s appointment.”
I frowned and looked around. The house was quiet. Empty.
“Is Marina okay? Is she ill?”
Mark shook his head. “No, she’s not here. Unfortunately, Marina and Doctor Kamal had an understanding that was a little more personal than I would have liked.”
I frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
Mark sighed. “She’s sleeping with the good doctor.”
I stilled. My hand rose slowly to my mouth.
“Oh, my God.”
“I know.”
That was disgusting.
“But you’re having a baby.”
Mark shrugged. He had the air of someone who didn’t care but judging by his looks – his exhaustion, his neglect – he really cared. I wanted to be able to comfort him, help him. I felt sorry for him. I thought about the baby.
“What’s happening now with the pregnancy?”
The baby needed a home. A real one. Not a broken one. A mom and a dad.
“You do still want it, right?” I couldn’t be left with the child. I needed them to take it. I was suddenly panicked.
