The Proposal

by R. R. Banks

  It won’t be long now. Today your parents, Richard and Flora, officially chose me to be their surrogate. I feel so lucky. This is going to help me in so many ways and I’m glad that I can do it in a way that helps them, too. Your daddy is somebody really special. I hope you know that. He’s kind and reassuring, and even though he seems a little bit stuffy, there’s a sense of humor there that’s a lot of fun. I hope that you see that sense of humor and that maybe you get some of it. It’s always better to see the world with a bit of laughter and light in it, no matter what’s happening. Your daddy has obviously lived a pretty sheltered life and probably hasn’t had much experience outside of his little bubble, but I can see something in him. There’s a little bit of sparkle in there and I see it whenever he talks about you.

  Your mother is a surprise to me. She wasn’t there when I first met your father and when she did come in, she didn’t seem too pleased to be seeing me. Not that she wasn’t pleased that there was an interview going on, because obviously she knew about that, but not pleased that it was me sitting there. I don’t know why that would be the case since we’ve never met before, but that was the immediate impression that I got. As soon as your father told her that I was the one that he had chosen, though, it was like she turned a switch. Suddenly she was gushing and emotional, and actually came up and hugged me. Now, I can tell you that that hug felt like it was coming from someone who doesn’t do the hugging thing very often. But it was a hug nonetheless and while it seemed to take your daddy aback a bit, too, he was happy as a frog in the rain. It was like everything was falling into place in his mind and he was finally able to actually see how this was all going to work out.

  I have all kinds of doctor’s appointments set up for the next couple of weeks. The first one is tomorrow afternoon. I’m supposed to discuss my reproductive potential. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it sounds awkward. I’m sure it’s only the very beginning of a whole stream of awkward, though, so I’m just bracing myself. With any luck, we can schedule the implantation within the next month and we’ll be on our way.

  I just realized that if the first implantation takes, I’ll be pregnant over the holidays. No egg nog for me. Well, I can have egg nog, I just can’t let Christopher anywhere near it. Is it ridiculous that I feel a little guilty that you’ll be with me over Christmas and not with your parents? You won’t even be the size of a holly berry, yet I feel like I should go sit on their couch with my belly pointed toward their Christmas tree or something.

  Menorah? Is that possible? Not that it matters, of course, it’s just that I’m realizing more and more as this becomes more real to me that I don’t know these people. I’m sure I’ll get to know them better as the weeks go by. I don’t honestly know how well I want to get to know them, though. I know that sounds terrible and I don’t mean it to. It’s just that…what if I really like them? What if I form a friendship with them? When all of this is over and you are born, that friendship would be over too. I can’t imagine that your mother would want to keep me around as Auntie Rue or anything. It’s not that I think she’s a terrible person. That’s not it. Like I said, I just feel like there’s something a little bit off about her. It’s probably not her usual personality or what is actually the way that she is when she’s not in this type of situation. If she was, your father wouldn’t be with her and wouldn’t be going through something like this with her.

  Of course, at the same time I don’t want to have no relationship with them. This is something that they should have the opportunity to experience, even if it is just watching my belly grow, being there for ultrasounds, and feeling kicks. I wouldn’t want to think that they would go for the fast food version, being there for the implantation and then just checking back in with me when I was ready to pop and they had spent the last nine months going about their lives. Maybe that’s not the fast food version. The bread maker version? Slow cooker? Definitely not the pressure cooker.

  I hope that I will make a good home for you. I’ve been trying to eat better the last few days. I don’t know how much of a difference it will make, but I’d like to think I’m doing a little bit of freshening up before you move in. When you get there, I promise I will do everything that I can to make it comfortable for you and to help you stay healthy and safe until the day comes for you to be born. Wow. Your birthday. That will be your actual, real birthday. I’d like to think that that day has already been chosen. Somewhere out there it has already been decided what zodiac sign you’re going to be and whether you are going to be a summer baby or a fall baby. Somehow, that thought is comforting to me. The responsibility of all of this is already starting to sink in and it makes me feel better to think that I’m not the only one who’s controlling this and that somewhere along the line it will just be about me going along for the ride. All I can promise you is that I will do everything I can to make sure that you get through the months that you’ll spend with me in the best way possible so that I can hand you healthy and safe to your parents and you can go on to live the incredible life they have planned for you.

  I know that I’ve spent most of the time since you became even a concept in my life thinking about what I am going to be doing for you and for your parents, but I want you to know that I will never forget what you are doing for me, either. Thank you in advance for letting me be the one who carries you. Thank you for giving me the chance to actually do something good in the world and to help people in a way that even just a few months ago I never would have even begun to imagine I would do. And thank you for helping me to save the home that is so precious to me. You’ll never know how much it means to me that I won’t lose that house. I am glad to know that you won’t know what it is to struggle or to feel that you’re missing out on anything. You won’t ever know what it is to worry that you’ll lose everything that means something to you. That’s a gift and I hope that you will appreciate it. I know those things all too well, but because of you I won’t have to be as afraid. The money that your parents will pay me for carrying you will be enough to secure my grandmother’s home and to get me through for a while. After that, I’ll figure it out, but at least I’ll know that my home is safe. One day when I have children of my own, if I’m ever lucky enough to do that, I’ll be able to raise them there and I will never forget that it is because of you that I’ll be able to do that.

  I’ll be going home to Whiskey Hollow soon. I don’t know what the doctor’s going to say about resting or anything after the procedure, but I feel like I should do something. I’ve already taken leave from my job, so I’ll just be packing up my apartment until the day of the procedure. Then I think I’ll take the day or maybe even two to just lay around and hope for the best. Maybe I’ll put my legs up over my head. Do you think that I could count one of those inversion tables as a pregnancy expense and just dangle upside down for a while after? That might be going a bit too far.

  Part of me is looking forward to going home and seeing the Hollow again. It has been so long and the last time I was there was so painful for me that going back feels like a way to make that go away and bring back all of the warmth and wonderful memories that I cherish so much and that make me want to make sure that it isn’t taken from me. There’s another part of me, though, that is almost dreading going back. I worked so hard to get out and to make my life what it has become, and going back, not just visiting but actually moving back, feels like I’m giving all of that up. I’m afraid that I’ll lose that part of me and forget what I’m really capable of accomplishing. We’ll just have to see.

  Wish me luck for the doctor’s appointment.

  Rue

  Chapter Nine

  Richard

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  I felt like the words were coming to me out of a fog. I shook my head hard, trying to get the thoughts I had been having out of my mind. I knew somewhere in there that I had heard what Flora said. I knew what they meant and the changes that the reality were going to cause for everything that I thought was
going to be happening in my near future. The thoughts that had rushed through in response to what she had told me, however, weren’t what I would have thought they would have been. Had someone told me the news that Flora was going to bring to me that day, there are many things that I would have thought that would have gone through my mind, but the immediate image of the beautiful, playful face of the woman that we had chosen was not one of them. Yet, there she was. Rue’s bright eyes and wide, alluring mouth. Her soft skin and hair that never seemed to behave, even when she was trying to style it.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  “Did you hear me?” Flora asked again, her voice more forceful this time.

  The stark change in the tone of her voice brought my attention to her. In an instant she had gone from sounding sad and weak to sounding forceful and angry. I looked at her, leaning slightly toward her where she sat on the couch beside me and shook my head. Maybe I hadn’t. Maybe what I thought that she had said wasn’t right.

  “I’m sorry, Darling,” I said. “Tell me again.”

  Flora’s pale face turned red and her eyes flashed angrily at me. Her lips turned in, pursing with frustration. I could tell that asking her to repeat herself had been the very wrong thing to do. Of course, in recent months it seemed that nearly everything that I did was the wrong thing to do and I was just trying to glide between arguments. It wasn’t a pleasant way to be, but I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do. She was going through a tremendous amount of stress. This process wasn’t easy for her, difficult in a way that I was never going to be able to understand, and she was struggling to connect with it as much as I did. Though she had been effervescently welcoming to Rue when I first told her that she was the one who I had chosen, it was a strange, out-of-character reaction that made me wonder at Flora’s motivations. Part of me hated that I was even thinking that way. That wasn’t the way that any man should feel about the woman with whom he was planning to start a family. I shouldn’t be feeling the suspicion that I was and instead should be happy that she was trying hard to connect to a process that was difficult for her and a situation that I suspected was still fairly new in her mind and her heart.

  “I told you that I went to see my doctor this morning,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding, the realization of the message that she had already told me starting to settle in again. “I remember you said that.”

  “And do you remember what the doctor told me?” she asked, her voice going back to the fragile, weak sound.

  “Something about your eggs?” I asked.

  I sounded unsure and I knew that it would only make her angrier, but part of me didn’t want to hear what she had said. She nodded, her eyes widening and glazing over with tears until she looked like a baby doll.

  “The doctor told me that my eggs aren’t viable,” she said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, even though I already knew and just needed for her to say it, just to make sure that I really did know what she was telling me.

  “It means that it’s not just that I can’t carry a pregnancy,” she said. “I can’t even conceive a baby. What few eggs I do produce aren’t healthy enough to actually support a baby.”

  “What does that mean for the surrogacy?” I asked.

  Flora’s mouth fell open slightly as if she was horrified that I would even think to ask such a question.

  “Is that really all you care about?” she asked. “I’m telling you that I’ve heard this terrible news about my health, and all you can think about is whether this woman you’ve chosen is going to be able to get pregnant?”

  I looked at her quizzically.

  “Yes,” I said. “Isn’t that why you’re upset, too? You aren’t sick. You aren’t suffering from a serious medical condition that’s going to threaten your life. If your eggs aren’t viable, wouldn’t the only reason for you to be upset be that the surrogacy can’t go forward like we planned?”

  Flora looked at me for a few seconds and I could see the thoughts churning through her mind as she tried to process what I had said and put it into the context of what she was feeling. Finally, she gave a slow nod.

  “You want a baby so badly,” she said.

  “I thought that we wanted a baby so badly,” I said.

  “Of course,” Flora said. “That’s what I meant. We want our child. And now the doctors have told me that I can’t possibly have one. What are we going to do?”

  I checked the time on my phone.

  “Rue has an appointment to meet with the doctor in twenty minutes,” I said. “We’ll go to the meeting and talk about it. Maybe the doctor has a suggestion.”

  “Don’t you think that if there was any option at all, that my doctor would be able to tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “You insisted on going to your regular doctor rather than a fertility and surrogacy specialist. Maybe there’s something that she doesn’t know that we could consider.”

  Before she could argue with me anymore, I grabbed up my coat and headed out of the house. Unlike the other appointments that were held in the medical center of one of my office buildings, this appointment was at the hospital where the specialist I had chosen currently worked. If all went according to plan, however, he wouldn’t be working there exclusively for much longer.

  When we arrived at the hospital, I took a few seconds to look over the outside of the building and the parking lot area, taking notes of what I would change. My car pulled up in front of the entrance and I got out, turning to help Flora out behind me. Rue was already waiting in the doctor’s office when we walked in, her eyes locked on Ellery, glaring at him angrily.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t even late,” she muttered, more under her breath than to me.

  “What?” I asked.

  Rue looked up at me and I noticed a hint of color splash across her cheeks.

  “Oh, hi,” she said.

  My mind traveled back to the thoughts that I had had when Flora first revealed her news to me and I had to pull my eyes away from Rue to end them. I crossed the office to the desk and reached out a hand to shake the doctor’s. He smiled at me with the warm, jovial smile that had put me at ease the first time I met him and gestured toward the chairs set up beside Rue. I intended to take the outer chair, allowing Flora to sit between us, but she dropped down into that chair without looking toward Rue or me. I sat down in the chair in the middle and smiled at Dr. Morgan, hoping that the awkwardness I was feeling wasn’t obvious to everyone else in the room.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said. “I’m excited to be getting started on this journey with you.”

  “Before we get started,” Flora interjected, holding up a hand to stop the doctor from continuing. “I think that I need to tell you something. I’m not sure why we are even here. This cannot proceed.”

  I heard Rue let out a little gasp beside me and I looked back at her. She was looking down at her lap, seemingly embarrassed by her reaction. I looked at Dr. Morgan, who had his head cocked and was looking at Flora through narrowed eyes.

  “Why is that?” he asked.

  “I came from my doctor earlier this morning,” Flora said, and I felt my chest constrict. I was hoping that she was going to give me the opportunity to do a little bit of a lead-in before she just blurted out what the doctors had told her, but she obviously wasn’t going to give me that opportunity. “They told me that my eggs aren’t viable, so I will not be able to conceive a child, even through laboratory means.”

  “Well,” I said, reaching out to touch her leg comfortingly. “They didn’t say that specifically. They said that her eggs aren’t viable, but her doctor isn’t a fertility specialist. We were hoping that maybe you would know of an alternative that would still allow the plan to move forward.”

  Dr. Morgan nodded.

  “I do,” he said.

  Relief rushed through me and I let out a sigh, my smile widening.

  I knew that th
ere was still going to be a way.

  “That’s wonderful news,” I said.

  “But,” Dr. Morgan said, some of the brightness gone from his face as he seemed to caution me with the tone of his voice. “It might not be what the two of you had planned.”

  “What do you mean?” Flora asked.

  “If your eggs aren’t viable, there’s really nothing that I can do to make them viable. It just means that they can’t be used. That doesn’t mean, however, that you can’t use another egg.”

  “Another egg?” I asked.

  “An egg donor is used in a large percentage of surrogacies.”

  “You want me to just choose a stranger and use their egg?” Flora asked.

  “Not necessarily a stranger,” Dr. Morgan said.

  He looked to Rue.

  “Rue,” he said.

  “Me?” she asked.

  “Traditional surrogacy involves the woman who is acting as gestational carrier to also contribute her egg. The process is largely the same except for the insemination procedure, and the legalities will remain that once the baby is born, it is the child of the couple and not the surrogate.”

  Silence fell over the room for only a beat before it filled with voices.

  “How could you even suggest that?” Flora demanded.

  “You can’t be serious,” Ellery said.

  “This will make things much more complicated,” Mr. Lawrence said from where he was standing on the other side of Ellery.