Jamie put the contract back in the drawer, wishing she had never heard of the Hartmann family.
The week before Christmas, Jamie woke to the sound of howling wind. She took Ralph into the backyard but decided that she would forgo her morning walk. She looked over the assigned readings for her next correspondence-course lesson, trying to decide if she would bother with them. She didn’t even have copies of the lessons she had completed. She had her notes, however. If she did decide to retype them and complete the additional lessons, she could deliver the completed course in person to the professor in Austin—after she had served out her sentence on this godforsaken ranch.
For now, though, she gave herself over to watching a morning’s worth of mindless television programs.
At noon her lunch arrived. As Jamie placed the tray on the coffee table, she felt a strange sensation in her abdomen. Like a bird fluttering around inside of her.
She put a hand on her stomach. But the sensation had ceased.
She waited a minute to see if it was going to happen again. For several seconds she waited. Maybe it was just her stomach protesting its emptiness. Or a muscle spasm.
She sat down, switched on the television, and took a bite of the turkey sandwich.
Then it happened again.
“Oh, my gosh!” she said, placing both hands over her protruding belly.
The fluttering lasted longer this time, for several seconds. And Jamie knew what she was feeling. It was life.
Of course, the baby had been alive all along, but she hadn’t felt it before. She recalled the word that Mary Millicent and Nurse Freda had used. Quickening.
She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the sandwich for a second bite. She just sat there, staring at nothing.
For a long time she sat there. Not thinking. Not eating. Finally, though, she picked up the sandwich and took another bite. And another. Then she pushed the tray away and headed for the bedroom, where she wrapped herself up in a blanket and lay across the bed.
She slept for a time, waking to the sound of the wind, which seemed even more ferocious than before. An afternoon walk was out of the question. She stretched and was trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day, when it happened again. Movement. More pronounced than before. She imagined a tiny arm or leg moving about. A tiny human being flexing its muscles. She wanted to yell at it to stop. If it was going to start moving around like this, there was no way she could continue ignoring what was going on inside of her.
She buried her face in a pillow and began to cry. She wanted the baby to go away. She didn’t want it moving around in there. But she didn’t want it to die either, and if it went away it would die.
Dear God in heaven, what have I done?
Ralph jumped up on the bed and began licking her face. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his coarse hair. “What are we going to do, Ralphie? What are we going to do?”
Finally, she calmed herself, feeling a bit ashamed that she had overreacted in such a way. It was time for her to face up and grow up. Of course the baby moved. It was supposed to move, supposed to grow, and eventually get itself born. She had put off dealing emotionally with her situation long enough. She was now five months’ pregnant. A small living creature was swimming around in her uterus. A baby. A human baby.
She was not to think of it as her baby. She had signed a contract saying that in exchange for a handsome amount of money, she agreed to forfeit her legal rights to the child. In the eyes of the law, he or she would belong to Amanda Hartmann and Toby Travis. Biologically, she was the mother, however. And Toby was the biological father.
Unless what Mary Millicent had said about Sonny was true.
Which was too far-fetched to be believed.
Jamie wondered what life would be like for the child she was carrying, other than being raised amid extreme wealth and never wanting for anything. She did not doubt that Amanda and Toby would love the child. She did worry, however, that much of the child’s upbringing would be left to Miss Montgomery or a nursemaid while Amanda, with Toby at her side, traveled about saving souls and raising money for political candidates handpicked by her Alliance. And Jamie wondered how she would feel if the child that she was now carrying followed in Amanda’s footsteps and someday told a national television audience how God wanted them to live and think and vote. Would she feel proud? Or would it make her squirm?
That night, it was Jamie who initiated the middle-of-the-night visit with Mary Millicent. She crept down the hall to the chapel, then she pushed open the hidden door, felt around for the light switch, and climbed the bare wooden stairs to the first of the two tower rooms. A dim light glowed from behind the curtain that divided the room. She slipped behind the curtain and stared down at the emaciated face of the unfortunate young man lying there. All the family riches had not protected him from grave misfortune.
She pulled back the covers, lifted one of his hands, and placed it on her belly. “Is that your baby in there?” she whispered.
Then she leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.
He had been greatly loved, she thought as she backed away from the bed. Perhaps she would have loved him, too, had she had a chance to know him. She wondered if, in spite of being the heir to a vast fortune or maybe because of it, Sonny Hartmann had also known what it was like to be an outsider.
She climbed the stairs to Mary Millicent’s room. Once she had reached the top, she stood for a time, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The sound of soft snoring reached her ears. She waited until her eyes adjusted and she could make out the outline of the bed, then tiptoed across the room. “Mary Millicent,” she said, leaning over the sleeping form.
When the old woman did not respond, Jamie felt around for her hand. “Hey, Mary Millicent, it’s Jamie, the girl from downstairs.”
“I know who you are,” Mary Millicent said in a hoarse whisper. “Did the witch see you?”
“No,” Jamie said, turning on a bedside lamp. “I wanted to tell you that the baby moved today.”
“You came all the way up here to tell me that?”
“Well, yes,” Jamie said, helping the woman to a sitting position. “You asked me if I had felt any quickening, and I thought you might be interested to know that it had, indeed, occurred.”
“Well, it was bound to happen unless the baby was dead,” Mary Millicent said, struggling to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Jamie helped get her situated and extracted her bunched-up nightgown from underneath her hips.
“So, this is where you live,” said Jamie, taking a look around the room. Like the room below, a pair of narrow windows was set in each of the room’s eight sides. The floor was bare wood, and the walls were painted white. A rack of clothing and a chest of drawers stood by the stairwell railing. A shelf held a large television set. In the middle of the room was a round mahogany table with claw feet and two matching chairs. On the other side of the bed were a sink, a portable toilet, a trash can, and a rectangular table that held a box of adult diapers, a large plastic container of wipes, a stack of towels, and another of washcloths. Jamie was surprised to see an old-fashioned wood-and-wicker wheelchair parked by the head of the bed. Then she remembered Mary Millicent’s claim that Miss Montgomery thought she could not walk. The nurse, too.
“Do you really use the wheelchair?” she asked.
Mary Millicent nodded. “All the time.”
“Well, aren’t you the sly one!” Jamie said.
“You got it, sister,” Mary Millicent said with pride, and offered Jamie a high five.
Jamie sat on the bed beside the old woman. “How long have you lived up here?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Could be one year or a hundred for all I know. They started putting me up here just when there were guests in the house—after Amanda got all upset when I showed up at a dinner party wearing just a hula skirt. I think someone really important was there—like a king or a movie star. Then I was sick for a long time and
couldn’t move or talk, and for a long time after that I was too weak to walk. But when I got stronger again, I jus’ kept on pretending to be weak. Sometimes when Amanda and Gus are here, they have one of the Mexican gardeners carry me downstairs so I can have dinner with them in the dining room. I like having men carry me. I like the feel of their muscles and the smell of their sweat,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes I reach down and pat their pee-pee. You should see the look on their faces when I do that. They don’t know if they should scream or laugh. I miss doing it with a man. I miss it a lot.”
Jamie listened to Mary Millicent’s outpouring in open-mouthed wonder. She didn’t know if she should put her fingers in her ears or laugh out loud. When Mary Millicent finally stopped, Jamie said, “You are one outrageous old woman.”
Mary Millicent put her hands on her hips. “Well, what of it?”
Jamie had to laugh. What of it, indeed? She put a hand over her mouth, fearful of making too much noise, but continued to laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. And then she stopped abruptly, putting a hand to her belly. She grabbed Mary Millicent’s hand and placed it under hers. “Can you feel it?”
“Yep. Feels like the kid has the hiccups.”
“Isn’t that just wonderful?” Jamie said in awe.
“Not particularly.”
Jamie put her arms around Mary Millicent Tutt Hartmann, retired evangelist and outrageous old lady, and said, “Oh, but you’re wrong. Baby hiccups are wonderful, and so are you.”
Chapter Seventeen
THE NEXT DAY, there was a midafternoon knock on her door.
Amanda and Toby were standing in the hallway, their arms full of gift-wrapped packages. “Merry Christmas,” they said in unison.
Jamie returned their greeting and invited them in. Ralph backed away from the door, unsure of what his reaction should be to the two strangers invading his domain.
Amanda paused and looked around the room. “You’ve changed things quite a bit,” she observed, her tone a bit less warm.
“Yes,” Jamie agreed, somewhat surprised that Amanda even recalled how the rooms had been decorated. She started to say that she hoped Amanda didn’t mind her changes but stopped herself. What happened in these two rooms was the only part of her life over which she had any control, and she wasn’t going to apologize.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Toby said, “You’re looking well, Jamie.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“We brought you a few gifts,” Amanda said as she and Toby placed the packages on the table.
“That’s very kind of you,” Jamie responded. “Won’t you sit down?”
Amanda and Toby both seated themselves on the sofa. “Mostly the gifts are things you might need when you start your new life,” Amanda said with an airy wave toward the packages. “We wanted you to have something to open Christmas morning. I know how lonesome it must be for you here—especially during the holidays—and I feel terrible that I haven’t been able to spend more time with you. I so enjoyed our little visit when I was here last month.”
What a handsome couple they were, Jamie thought with genuine admiration. Toby was muscular and fit, his hair a bit lighter than it had been last summer, his skin tan in spite of the season. Both were wearing jeans, turtleneck sweaters, and expensive-looking western boots. They sat close to each other, their thighs touching, and holding hands. Amanda’s fleecy white sweater was long and loose-fitting, making it impossible for Jamie to judge whether she was expecting a child or not. She considered inquiring about her condition but decided against it. The woman was either pregnant or she was not. It was none of Jamie’s concern.
Ralph crept toward the two guests warily, his tail wagging. Toby reached out and scratched his head. “What an unusual dog,” he said. “What kind is it?”
“Just a mutt, but a very sweet one,” Jamie said.
“Freda says that you and the baby are both doing splendidly,” Amanda said, clasping her hands together and smiling broadly. “Freda now has five obstetrical patients, and we decided that it was time that we buy sonogram equipment for the clinic. The sonograms will be sent by computer to the university medical center in Amarillo to be read by an expert, like the X-rays she takes. So many more things are possible now with computers.”
Jamie nodded.
“Actually, I want you to go to the clinic tomorrow so Freda can do a sonogram on you. I can’t wait to actually see the baby. Knowing that I will be a mother once again has helped heal my broken heart and filled it once again with joy. You can’t imagine the heartbreak of losing a child, Jamie. It is the worst thing that can happen to a woman.”
Jamie thought that was a strange thing for Amanda to be saying to the woman she was paying to give up a child.
“Toby and I pray for you every day,” Amanda said. Beside her Toby was smiling his agreement.
Jamie was surprised when Amanda rose from the sofa and came to kneel in front of her and take her hands. “We pray for you, dearest Jamie, not just because you are carrying our child,” Amanda said, “but because we care about you and want you to feel good about what you are doing.”
Jamie felt herself falling under Amanda’s spell, as she had when the two of them were sitting on the window seat in the library. Amanda’s voice was so soothing. Her eyes as clear and blue as sapphires. Her hair smooth and shining. Her lips moist and full. Amanda was lovely and seemed so very sincere.
Jamie wanted to put her head on Amanda’s shoulder and feel the comfort of her embrace. And, as though the woman could read her mind, she felt Amanda drawing her close and placing a cheek against hers. Jamie closed her eyes and relished this unexpected moment of human contact.
“You’re very lonely, aren’t you?” Amanda said softly into her ear. “But you must remember, my darling Jamie, that you are never alone. You can always confide in our Lord. He is with you always and wants to hear your prayers. He will lead you to the other side of these lonely times and enrich your life for having so dutifully fulfilled your mission here. It is His wish that this very special baby be born. You must remember that always. You can put your trust in Him. Always, my darling girl. Always.”
Jamie watched with regret as Amanda rose to her feet. She rose with her, feeling a bit light-headed. Not wanting the moment to end, she asked, “Will I ever see you again afterward?”
“After the baby is born? No, dear child, but I will think of you and pray for you ever single day of my life,” Amanda said, taking Jamie’s face in her hands and looking deeply into her eyes. “And there will be times when you actually feel my thoughts and prayers and well wishes. We are irrevocably connected in this life, you and I, and in the next we will also be. Don’t ever forget that, Jamie. Not ever.” Amanda kissed Jamie’s cheek and then her lips and offered her a last smile before holding her hand out to her husband.
Jamie watched the door close behind them and felt as though all the life and air had gone out of the room with them. With Amanda.
Jamie stood there for the longest time, like a statue. Or a person who had forgotten how to move and think.
Nurse Freda was like a child with a brand-new toy as she showed off the new equipment to Jamie. “It’s as good as anything you’d find in any obstetrician’s office in Amarillo,” she said proudly.
Lying flat on her back on the examining table, Jamie was a bit startled at how round her belly was. Freda listened to the baby’s heartbeat then poked around for a bit. Then she covered Jamie’s abdomen with a gel that felt as though it had just come out of a refrigerator and began moving a paddle slowly back and forth over it. Jamie was able to watch the images on the screen. It took a while for her to make out the baby. It was moving languidly in its dark little aquatic world, oblivious to spying eyes. Bentley Abernathy had said she would not be allowed to see the baby or even to know its sex, but she was seeing it now after a fashion. And just in case Freda didn’t know all the rules, she asked, “Can you tell what sex it is?”
�
�Looks like a boy to me,” the nurse said, pointing to the screen. “There’s his scrotum right there. Yep, a healthy, normal baby boy, all body parts present and accounted for. Amanda and her husband are going to get themselves a fine little fellow.”
She picked up a towel and wiped the gel from Jamie’s abdomen. “I’m finished. You can get dressed now. And don’t forget to pee in a cup. I’ll see you next week.”
Midafternoon, Freda called the radiologist in Amarillo. “Have you had a chance to look at that prenatal ultrasound yet?”
“It’s on my screen now. Looks like a good baby. Male. No discernible anomalies.”
Freda called Amanda at the ranch house. “Congratulations,” she said joyously. “The baby is a normal, healthy boy.”
The day before Christmas, while Jamie was walking Ralph, she watched while the Hartmann plane banked overhead and landed on the ranch landing strip.
That evening she crept down the hall toward the second-floor gallery. Taking great care to remain in the shadows, she moved around the gallery until she could see into the dining hall. Symphonic music wafted softly from hidden speakers. The table was resplendent with crystal and candles. Seated around the table were Amanda and her husband, Miss Montgomery, Mary Millicent in her wheelchair, Nurse Freda, Chief Kelly, and a man Jamie recognized from the pictures in the library. Gus Hartmann had come to the ranch for Christmas.
The next morning, when she took Ralph out into the backyard, Jamie heard singing floating across the frigid morning air—many voices singing “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed…” Harmonious, joyous, well-rehearsed voices singing so beautifully that she had to stop and close her eyes. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold brought chill bumps to the skin on her arms.
It was Christmas. Always before she had been with someone she loved on this day. Memories poured over her. The large tree in the high-ceilinged living room on Galveston Island. Her mother playing carols on the upright piano. Her sister Ginger home from college. The four of them singing together. The Christmas tree at Granny’s house had never been large, but they lovingly decorated it with mostly homemade ornaments. And they sang along with the carols on the radio—including the same carols now being sung by the hidden choir.
The Surrogate Page 15
