Because that’s what families did.
She knew. She’d had one once. With her mom and dad. And then again with her grandparents.
And had almost had another—before she’d given him up to a family that had a much better chance at bringing him more joy than struggle.
She just had to keep her mind on the prize—giving two very nice men a new family member. And in so doing, giving them a piece of their family back.
Chapter Sixteen
The twelve-week ultrasound went about the same as the first. Jamie couldn’t see much but the screen and Christine’s face. The technician had spoken mainly to him again. As far as he’d seen, Christine had kept her eyes closed. She’d left as soon as they met with Dr. Adams, though he’d known this time that she’d scheduled the appointment in between meetings at The Parent Portal.
Good news was that the fertility specialist was pleased with her uterine lining and Christine shouldn’t need injections. Dr. Adams had turned over the remainder of the prenatal care to Dr. Miller, Christine’s regular ob-gyn. The sonogram had been inconclusive regarding the sex of the child.
He hated that Christine hadn’t been there to hear the report with him. It hadn’t seemed right, her having left before he’d heard the results.
He suspected she’d done so on purpose.
And didn’t blame her.
He hadn’t been able to stop grinning, looking at the film of his little one’s movement, and when the sound of the baby’s heartbeat echoed through the room, he’d teared up as chills shot through him. How did you know that life was growing inside you and also be okay with having no claim to it?
No right to it?
He wished he’d been more aware of what he’d been asking when he’d come up with the surrogacy idea. It could be that he’d have asked anyway, but at least he could have been more sensitive.
Exactly what he’d do differently, he didn’t know, but, seeing how loving Christine was, how nurturing, he knew he’d have tried to do something.
They continued their thrice-weekly meetings without change on into September. As busy as he was with the additional class, along with tennis practices and driving into the university in Mission Viejo a couple of times a week, those hours with Christine were the highlight of his life. Partially because she was carrying his baby.
And partially because... He hoped to God he was suffering from transference. But as time went on, he didn’t think so. She drew him like a magnet, and he knew all about the molecular structure that defined many magnetic properties. Physics made more sense to him than emotional transference. And still didn’t explain why this one woman called out to him.
So he let it go as best he could. Lived his life one day at a time. Enjoying the days with Christine in them more than the ones from which she was absent.
He’d passed on the house he’d wanted to buy, having seen that the structural damage was just too great to be a good investment. He had had to put most of his things in storage and move in to a little rental property while he looked for something else.
Other than the fact that he was aware he needed a place to put the nursery furniture he’d ordered, as well as the various other baby items he’d been buying—a stroller, a year’s worth of disposable diapers, lotions and towels with hoods, car seat and... The list went on and on—he wasn’t hating the rental. He’d found a little cottage right on a stretch of the private beach that made Marie Cove so desirable to many of Los Angeles’ elite. It was only a mile from Christine’s house, and he liked the vicinity.
Liked that she was close.
He’d have to get a bigger place eventually, but until the baby was two or three, they’d be okay there.
He’d spent Labor Day with Tom, and video chatted with his mom, who’d wanted him to fly up to Oregon. She’d been calling him at least twice a week, and texting almost daily since finding out he was going to be a father. That she was finally going to be a grandmother, and was already making plans to fly down and stay with him after the baby was born.
He was grateful for the love. And for the help.
He just needed space left in his life for...
Christine.
She and her friend Olivia had spent the holiday at the women’s center. He didn’t actually speak to her, but when he’d texted to wish her a happy Labor Day, she’d sent a picture of her and the pediatrician standing behind three grills filled with burgers and more coleslaw than he’d ever seen in one place. They’d both been wearing aprons, and the huge grins on their faces had brought a smile to his. He’d saved the photo in his gallery.
His first photo of her.
On the Friday after Labor Day he invited her to his little cottage. He wanted to talk to her privately. And not in a business setting. He told her so right up front, giving her the chance to refuse, and then had difficulty maintaining his calm when she didn’t.
He’d never had trouble remaining calm. Not until Christine had come along.
Until the baby had.
He’d like to believe that his emotional upheaval was more in line with sympathy pregnancy than anything else. That he was on the normal, preparental roller coaster.
And there was some of that, to be sure. The highs and excitement, mixed with worries and insecurities about being a parent. A single, male parent.
None of it made him jittery. Anxious. Or manically active.
Only thoughts of Christine did that. He’d never been jittery with Emily.
He didn’t get it. He’d never so much as held Christine’s hand.
And yet the second he opened his door to her that next afternoon, he reached for her hand, guiding her inside like she couldn’t find the way herself. All two steps of it.
Realizing what he’d done, he pulled back almost immediately, but his hand knew the soft touch of her skin. And his mind was holding on. It wasn’t going to let him forget.
“Wow,” he said then, standing back to stare at her. “You look...great!” She wore capri pants with a tight, long, colorfully striped top and wedge shoes.
It was the first time he’d seen the shape of her stomach so clearly. “You’re...showing...”
He stared. Knew he was staring. Couldn’t stop.
Her chuckle only served to make the moment more potent. “You’ve seen the sonogram, Dad,” she said.
Silence fell and as his gaze rose to hers, she instantly sobered, her deep brown eyes locking him to her.
He was the host, but she recovered first. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, looking beyond him to the L-shaped great room that encompassed living, kitchen and dining areas. A small hall led to two bedrooms with a rather large bathroom in between. A side door off the kitchen led to a two-and-a-half-car garage—which was one of the reasons he’d landed on the place. It had lots of space to store the boxes he’d wanted closer than his rented storage facility.
He wanted to show her the spare bedroom, currently consumed by his baby purchases. Wanted her to ooh and ahh over them. To want to see every single purchase. To touch and feel. To voice her opinions and suggestions.
He wanted to hear them.
And to get all gooey at the sight of the tiny little onesies he’d picked up in the university bookstore.
“Right,” he said instead, moving toward the couch and love seat that was fine for his home, but consumed the cabin’s much smaller space. “Have a seat.”
He offered her something to drink, but she lifted the aluminum water bottle she’d brought in with her and politely declined. Settled onto the edge of a cushion at one end of the couch.
Not planning to stay long.
Getting back to business.
A place he didn’t want her to go.
“I wanted to talk to you about the future,” he started, settling with some difficulty onto the love seat cushion closest to her. He needed t
o walk. To move.
A reaction only she seemed to instill in him.
“What about the future?” Her frown was softened by the smile he’d grown to dislike: the one with professional stiffness about it. Not something he’d noticed when he’d first been a client in her office, but one that he’d learned well in the months they’d been together.
Learned well and started to dislike it being directed at him. Vehemently.
“I’d like you to play a part in the baby’s life.” When he put it starkly like that, all alone out in the world, he stiffened inside. “It’s kind of a reverse surrogate wanting to keep the baby thing.” He tried to lighten the moment and heard the miserable fail.
She hadn’t moved. Just watched him, that horrible smile on her face.
“It sounds bad,” he said. “You’re already sacrificing so much, putting parts of your life on hold, to give me my chance at a family, and here I am asking for more. I just...now that we’re in this situation... I’m seeing what I was really asking of you...”
Yes, but that wasn’t what this was about, either.
“...So much more than to hire your body for nine months.
“You deserve to get to know the child you’re carrying. What I’m trying to do is establish your relationship with the baby, if you want one. One of your choosing.”
She still said nothing. Just sat there. Smiling at him. He saw no tremble in her lips to indicate she cared, no change of expression that let him know she’d even heard.
“I’m not asking you to give any more of yourself,” he said. “I’m not asking you to do anything for the child, to sacrifice any more. I know our contract states that you can request the chance to see the child at some point, if the need arises. But I’m saying, the door’s open for you to have the child in your life on a regular basis, from birth. Not as the mother, necessarily. Not with legal custody rights. But...there.”
There. He’d finally gotten it right.
Partially.
Her smile had faded.
“I’ve... I like you, Christine. I like having you in my life. I’d like to think we’ve become friends. And that we can remain friends...”
And that was the other part. He didn’t want the birth of his child to mean that he’d lose her.
She was blinking regularly. Breathing.
“Say something...”
Pursing her lips, she rocked a little bit, forward and back, the movement almost imperceptible. But there. Was she nodding? Comforting herself?
“I...uh...” She cocked her head, smiled at him again. Mostly professionally, accompanied by a more personal glint in her eyes.
“Ever since that brunch with Tom at the country club...” He’d apologized profusely after that god-awful hour. She’d brushed him off as though the meeting had been of no personal concern. Had said she understood where Tom was coming from and was fine.
He’d had no choice but to let it go. To try to believe her. But...
“Before that even... I’ve begun to realize how selfish I’ve been and... The Parent Portal is all about the human element in fertility choices. It’s what sets your clinic apart. You’ve given your whole life to the cause, and I’ve managed to put you in a situation that takes your own humanity out of it...”
“It’s okay, Jamie.”
No it wasn’t. “Please, Christine, don’t go all Ms. Elliott on me. I’m not a client here.”
“Technically, I’m your employee.”
He shook his head. “You’ve become a friend. One that means more to me than I can even understand...”
“Don’t.” Shaking her head, she held up a hand. It was trembling. “This...this is what’s not okay,” she said. “This is what’s hard. I have a role to fill, Jamie. A job to do. And a reputation to uphold. Not just for me, but for The Parent Portal. My employees. Our clients. And future clients. The future families we can help bring to life...”
“I know.”
“What you’re saying here...it’s like tempting a dog with a pork chop bone when, after he takes it and enjoys the moment, it’s going to splinter inside him and could kill him.”
His offer was like a bone to a dog. That’s what he heard. She coveted what he wanted to give her. Was licking her chops and...
“I’m being selfish again.” His brain finally got to the point she’d been making. His offer only made things harder on her. Not easier. While attempting to be kind, he’d ended up being kind of cruel.
“You’re being human, and very sweet.” The way she smiled at him, her trembling lips only slightly tilted, changed his world. “And if we weren’t under legal contract, if we weren’t dealing with a situation that was conceived at The Parent Portal...”
The conversation seemed to have ended as she trailed off, and the room seemed to darken. To lose air. Jamie glanced out toward the ocean. Wondering how to extricate them both from the very awkward situation he’d created. How to hide his already-exposed vulnerability once again.
“If...after the baby is born...you still want to make your offer, offers—friendship and a relationship with the baby—I will at least be open to having the conversation.” She stopped. Just kept watching him.
Thinking? Assessing? He withstood the scrutiny. Waited for what she’d bring next.
“It actually does help, knowing that the birth might not be the end. Knowing that there’s possibility.” Her hand cradled the slight bump in her belly.
And the lights came back on.
Chapter Seventeen
During their sixteen-week visit Cheryl offered Jamie the opportunity for another ultrasound, to determine the sex of the baby, but he declined after looking at Christine.
“I don’t mind,” she’d told him, while they were still sitting in the doctor’s office. “Truly, it’s not a big deal.” Not physically. And the rest... She was a pro. If there was any momentary residual emotional discomfort, she’d quickly get over it.
Besides, he’d offered her the chance to actually know the baby she was creating. He might change his mind. She wasn’t the mother and had no legal rights. But the idea dangling out there made the pregnancy easier.
Not for any logical reason. It wasn’t like she’d be a mother this time around. The child wouldn’t know her as such. That would be too confusing. And unfair to all of them. But to actually be able to see the child, to see for herself that it was well, happy, thriving...
She brought up the ultrasound possibility again a couple of days after their Wednesday doctor visit, five days after he’d made his sweet offer in his cottage. They’d been for a walk on the private stretch of beach attached to his cottage—and several others along the way—and were sitting, in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, in the sand, about halfway between the ocean and the cottage. The Friday late afternoon air held a chill that was more invigorating than cold.
She was meeting Olivia for dinner at seven. Had to get home and change, but had been struggling to find a way to talk to him about things she really wanted to discuss, without compromising that professional glass wall standing between them.
Having asked if they could sit a moment, she suddenly felt like she’d created a hot seat for herself.
The ocean was rough, roaring into the beach in waves strong enough to knock over sandcastles and sweep them away. She and her father had made an entire colony out of sand once—huts and a store and a school with little twig benches...
“I want to order the ultrasound,” she told Jamie. “I won’t do it without your say-so, as you have to foot the bill since it’s not required prenatal care at this point, but you wanted to know the sex of the baby the last time, and now they can tell.”
He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “I can wait.”
“Jamie...” She turned her head, waited for him to look at her. Hadn’t realized how close they were. Their shoulders weren’t ev
en touching, but his face was so close. A lean and a scoot and her lips could touch his. Could talk in a whole new way.
“You think I don’t know it’s hard on you to lie there and hear that heartbeat and divorce yourself from what’s going on inside you?” he asked. “I’ve done more reading...the hormones that protect the baby affect you, too. There’s natural bonding going on between you and the baby... I’m not going to put you through any more than absolutely necessary.”
“You need to quit thinking about me, and let yourself get everything you can out of this,” she said, a passion in her tone that surprised her. And seemed to knock him a bit off course as well. Wide-eyed, he glanced at her and kept looking.
“I signed on for this,” she told him. “I’ve been pregnant before. I knew what I was letting myself in for. The nine months will be over and I’ll go on with my life. But you...you’re missing out, Jamie, by not letting yourself revel in it. Or celebrate it.”
“How do you know I don’t? You’re only with me for short periods at a time a few times a week. That leaves a lot of celebration time.”
He was right. She didn’t know. The idea didn’t sit well. Had she been so certain she really knew him? That she knew what he did with the majority of his life?
Confused, she forced her mind back on track.
“You’re dying to know if you’re having a boy or girl.” She couldn’t be wrong about that. She’d listened to the things he didn’t say.
And the little things he had, like the time he’d mentioned a future with dance classes or fishing poles... It wasn’t like he’d had a preference for one or the other, or even a need to have fishing poles if it was a boy; he’d just seemed to need to know. Because he was a guy whose numbers had to be concrete. Had to fit neatly within their formulas.
He was taking on solo a job for two. Not just a job. A lifetime commitment. With no professional boundaries.
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