by Kelsie Rae
“You had a look.”
“What look?”
“That one.” His forefinger motions to my face.
Laughing, I reply, “I’m sorry, is there something wrong with the way I look?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way you look, trust me, you just…made a face like you were thinking about something.”
“Better get your eyes checked, Dr. Bennett,” I tease, praying he’ll drop the subject.
Those same flinty eyes narrow as he assesses me closer. “I think you’re full of shit. We’re friends, remember? You can tell me what you were thinking.”
A frustrated sigh escapes me. “It’s not that big of a deal. I just get a little jealous when I see happy couples because I’ve yet to find my soulmate or whatever you want to call him.”
His face blanches when he realizes the giant-ass can of worms he just opened. His steps falter as he mutters, “Marce––”
I raise my hand and stop him. “It’s fine. It can be a little discouraging, that’s all. But you had Kate, so you don’t really get it. You’ve felt that way before. You’ve had someone feel that way about you. Then there’s me. The girl who has always been the friend, the casual hook up, and the dirty little secret. It’s annoying and frustrating and just…blah. Can we please change the subject?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I take another gulp of the fresh lemonade as his gaze bounces around my face like he’s searching for…something.
With a sigh, he leads me to the nearest booth that’s practically overflowing with fruits and vegetables. Picking up a few mushrooms, he smells them before asking, “Do you like mushrooms?”
I grab the one in his hand and run my thumb along the gray, spongy top while inspecting it closely. “Meh. They’re not my favorite. Why?”
He sets the rest of them back down and reaches for a few red peppers, tossing one up into the air then catching it. “I’m debating what to make for dinner tonight. What do you feel like eating?”
“Am I invited to dinner?”
“Well, I figured since you’re tagging along while I do my shopping, I might as well offer to feed you for your effort. Especially since you’re letting me keep my man card, right?” He stares at me pointedly and stops juggling the peppers. “Right?”
I laugh. “Depends on what you’re cooking tonight.”
“You mean what we’re cooking tonight.” He winks. “And I already pulled out the big guns with steak. But I was thinking pasta. Maybe fettuccine alfredo? Or garlic scampi with red peppers, onions, and salad on the side?”
My stomach growls. “You had me at pasta.”
“Perfect. Let me just grab a few more things and pay––”
“I can pay for them,” I offer. “You’re the one who’s going to do the cooking. It’s the least I can do.”
“No deal.”
“You already bought the lemonade and the fruit cup.”
“And I’ll be buying the ingredients for dinner too,” he returns before picking up an onion and adding it to his veggie stash. “And that apron we saw earlier.”
“The one that said, Burnt to Perfection?”
“No.”
“The one that said, The last time I cooked, hardly anyone got sick?”
“Wrong again.”
“The one with the bikini body printed on it and the giant boobs?”
“Hell, no. You’re classier than that.”
“I could always use Krista’s again,” I mention.
“No deal. If we’re friends and are going to be hanging out more often, then you’re going to need your own apron. Besides, I saw you eyeing the black one with the words, Hot Mess printed on it.”
Damn, he’s observant.
Pursing my lips, I drag out the word, “Ben….”
“Sorry, Marce. Call me old fashioned, but when I ask a girl to spend the day with me, I plan on treating her, which includes dinner and an apron.”
As he grabs a few more ingredients and pays for them, I try not to overanalyze the fact that we’re having dinner together…or the fact that he insists on paying for everything. Yeah, it’s a little barbaric, but…I kind of love that he’s adamant about treating a girl right. Even if I’m just a friend. And the fact that he noticed which apron was my favorite?
Swoon.
Besides, friends have dinner together all the time. Dylan and I eat food together too. So…what’s the difference?
Glancing over at him, I almost roll my eyes but restrain myself.
Well, for starters, I don’t want to jump Dylan’s bones so….
The shop worker hands Ben his change and a paper bag full of fresh fruit, vegetables for dinner, and a small block of cheese before he strides over to me.
“Did you get everything?” I ask, praying he can’t read minds even though he has a habit of reading mine so easily.
“Yeah. I think so. Do you want to head back or keep looking around for a little longer?”
“Let’s keep walking. I’m enjoying the sunshine.”
“Me too.”
We walk in comfortable silence while soaking up the warm weather and the fun ambiance when Ben asks, “So why’d you decide to become a surrogate?”
“You really want to know?”
“Of course.”
“Okay….” My feet scrape against the dry dirt in the middle of the field that’s hosting the farmer’s market as I debate whether or not he wants the full story or the CliffsNotes version. After a few seconds, I divulge, “I decided to become a surrogate because I always wanted to know what it was like to be pregnant, but I didn’t want to be a single mom, and, like I said before, I haven’t had a whole lot of luck finding a decent guy, let alone one I want to have a baby with. And since the proverbial fertility clock is ticking away in my uterus, I decided to become a surrogate before it was too late to get pregnant. That probably sounds like a selfish reason, huh?”
“Not at all,” he answers. His gaze is warm and accepting. “I am kind of surprised, though. Being pregnant can be rough, but you seem to have had a pretty smooth experience so far. You’re lucky.”
“I am lucky. Even my morning sickness was tame compared to stories I’ve been told. Although, I might have that medication you prescribed to thank for that.”
“I’m just happy it worked for you. Sometimes there isn’t anything I can do to help my patients. They have to wait it out and be miserable for a few months until it passes on its own.”
My gut fills with sympathy. “Yeah, that would suck. I’m very lucky on that front.”
“And how did you meet Anthony and Sway?” he prods, fascinated with my journey.
“I contacted an agency, and they set us up. We met over Skype, initially, then they flew me out to New Hampshire, and we met for lunch. They told me their fertility story, and it about broke me because I could tell how much they both wanted to start a family. There was just one thing in the way. They didn’t have an oven. I told them that I would be honored to carry their baby, then I got their official offer a few days later.”
“You know you’re not just an oven, right?” he points out as we round the corner to a new aisle of booths.
I shrug. “I mean…I kind of am.”
With a dry laugh, he shakes his head. “You need to give yourself a little more credit, Marcy. You’re smart, funny, compassionate, sexy as hell, and so damn generous it’s not even funny.”
I brush his comment aside, especially the sexy as hell part. Not exactly terms I would use to describe a friend. But hey, what do I know?
“Whatever, Ben,” I mutter.
“I’m serious, Marce. I watch the way you deflect any kind of compliment that comes your way, so I’m going to let it go for now. But one day, I’ll have to figure out a way to prove it to you.”
Uncomfortable with his attention, I take another sip of lemonade. “So, should I bring more rolls or…?”
He laughs. “Let’s go grab some french bread.”
“Only if I can
pay.”
Tossing his arm around my neck, he drags me toward a booth that smells like yeast and flour. My mouth waters as he grabs a sample from the plate and offers it to me. “No deal.”
15
Ben
“Hey, Krista,” I greet her as I answer my phone and check the time on my watch. I have ten more minutes until my lunch break is over.
“Hey, Benny. How’s my favorite brother doing?”
Brother. She and Kate were the only children in their family.
It’s funny. When Kate and I first started dating, Krista told me she’d always wanted a brother and was claiming me as her own. We were still in high school, and I had no idea that she’d prophesied the future while simultaneously embarrassing Kate to no end. I can still remember the way she’d slap her hand over Krista’s mouth and usher her out of the room anytime Krista felt like teasing her by calling me her future brother-in-law. The memory is bittersweet.
“I’m your only brother,” I point out.
“Not true. Ron has two brothers, and they both drive me equally insane. Now, answer my question. How’s life? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“It’s been what? Two weeks?”
“Two weeks too long,” she corrects me. I can hear the amusement in her voice.
“I’m good,” I answer her with a dry laugh. “How are you? Is Disney+ still as magical as when you first got it?”
“Sure is. I’m rationing it, though, to keep the little monsters on their toes. You know…. Give ‘em a taste. Keep them coming back for more.”
“Sounds like a solid strategy.”
“Yup. So far, so good. Now, let’s get back to the good stuff. You know that I’m not satisfied with the, I’m good response. Give me more, Benny Boy. I’m going to need all the details. What’s new? How’s work? How’s life in general? Tell me everything.”
“Man, you’re pushy,” I mutter, though she knows I’m teasing.
“Damn straight. Do I need to show up on your doorstep to pull a few teeth so that you’ll actually give me something more than a two-word answer, or are you really going to talk to me?”
With another dry laugh, I repeat, “I’m good, Krista. Life is…pretty good for once.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did you take my advice? Make a friend or two? Cultivate a few relationships?” she prods.
“I feel sorry for your kids,” I mutter under my breath. “I can only imagine how pushy you’ll be when they show up late for their curfew.”
“I’ve already been practicing my speech,” she brags. “Now, answer the question.”
“Fine. Yes. I’ve made a friend.”
“And?”
“And I told you it’s going good. We’ve gone to the farmer’s market together. Saw a movie. She even helped me plant some tulip bulbs in front of the house.”
“She?”
Dammit.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tread lightly. “Uh, yeah. Marcy and I have been hanging out as friends like you suggested.”
“Well, that’s…awesome, Ben. And healthy,” she decides. “I’m proud of you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup. That’s it.”
Forehead wrinkling in suspicion, I pull my phone away from my ear and check the screen before asking, “Who are you, and what have you done to my sister?”
Her tinkling laughter is all I get in reply. “I gotta go, but we’ll chat later. Love you, Benny Boy!”
“Love you too, Krista.”
“Bye.”
Setting my phone on the lunchroom table, I replay our conversation and take another bite of my sandwich.
Healthy.
Yeah.
It is healthy. It’s just a platonic relationship with a gorgeous girl who understands my limitations and accepts me for them, warts and all.
The clock on the wall ticks away as I count down the seconds before Marcy’s appointment, where she’ll get to find out the gender of the baby she’s carrying. My stomach tightens with anticipation, but I shrug off the feeling and toss the last bite of sandwich into my mouth before cleaning up the table.
“Look at you, being all on top of things,” Tracey states with her shoulder resting against the doorjamb.
“Hey, Trace.”
“Hey.” She doesn’t bother to hide her knowing smirk. “Your one o’clock is here.”
“Thanks.”
“Does she know that it isn’t common for the doctor to do the ultrasound?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a surrogate pregnancy. Different circumstances.”
“Mmmhmm. I’ll agree that it’s different circumstances, Dr. Bennett, but I’m not sold that it’s because of the whole surrogate angle.”
With a scowl, I mutter, “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”
“Uh, huh. For now, I guess we will,” she teases. “Do you want me in the room?”
“We should be fine. Just keep an eye on the call button, and I’ll let you know if we need anything.”
“Sounds good.”
As I go to step past her, she grabs my arm and stops me. “Just so you know, I think it’s awesome, Ben.”
“What’s awesome?” I ask, claiming ignorance.
She rolls her eyes and lets me go. “She’s in room five.”
“Thanks,” I call over my shoulder, restraining myself from running down the hall. When I reach room five, I knock twice, then twist the handle and open the door.
“Hey, guys. Are you excited about today?”
Three heads swivel in my direction, but it’s a certain pregnant woman that grabs my attention. Her baby bump is finally starting to show even though she hides it with baggy T-shirts and loose hoodies. It won’t be long before her efforts are futile, though.
“Hey.” The smile on Marcy’s face is one of the sweetest I’ve ever seen, and I can tell she’s bubbling with excitement just like the intended parents.
“Hey,” I repeat, taken aback by her beauty. She has no idea how gorgeous she is. Over the past few weeks, she’s been getting more comfortable with me, and I’ve started to realize how many barriers she keeps surrounding her. But slowly, she’s been letting them down when she’s around me. And I’ve never felt luckier.
With a quick shake of my head to disperse my thoughts, I offer my hand to Anthony then Sway. They each take it.
“Nice to see you both again.”
“You too,” Anthony returns.
“Well, let’s get to the fun part, shall we?”
Sway grins. “Yes, please!”
Stepping over to the exam table, I grab the light pink lubricant bottle then turn on the ultrasound machine. “Hey, Marce.”
“Hey, Ben––” She clears her throat and corrects herself, “Dr. Bennett.”
My face flashes with a cocky smirk before I cover it with a request. “Can you lie back for me and raise your shirt up?”
“Yup.” She lays onto the exam table and tugs up her soft gray shirt until it’s right below her round breasts.
Is it just me, or are they getting bigger?
My neck snaps to the machine, and I push a few buttons, shoving aside the inappropriate thoughts that slipped through my barriers before facing Marcy and squeezing some of the gel onto her stomach.
It’s funny. Sometimes, I forget she’s pregnant because she never complains about any regular pregnancy symptoms when we’re together. Part of me wonders if it’s because the baby isn’t hers, and she’s trying to keep that relationship a little more disconnected to protect her feelings when she delivers. Or maybe she just doesn’t feel crappy like most pregnant women.
She’s going to be a great mom one day. That much, I know. Hell, I’ve practically witnessed it firsthand. I’ve seen the way she gushes at the farmer’s market anytime a toddler waddles around the stands. I’ve seen the way she sneaks silly faces at babies in their strollers. I’ve seen the soft expression that overcomes her any time she’s chatting w
ith Sway on the phone. Yeah. She’s definitely going to make an amazing mom one day. And she’s already got the selfless part down. That’s for sure. So much so, that she decided to become a surrogate in hopes of giving that gift to someone else who deserved it.
Or maybe I’m just overanalyzing her.
Grabbing the handheld wand that connects to the ultrasound machine, I get right to work.
“Here’s your baby,” I announce a minute later as a black and white silhouette fills the screen. “Anthony, Sway, you guys are welcome to come closer and watch while I do a few measurements to make sure everything is developing properly.”
I’m not sure they’ve heard a single word I said after my initial announcement, but that’s okay. They’re lost in their own little world right now. I watch in silence as Sway covers her mouth with her hand and stares at the black and white silhouette of their baby. With glassy eyes, she remains frozen in place as Anthony steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.
“That’s our baby, Sway,” he whispers against her ear.
Still, she doesn’t say a word. She simply nods as the tears start to fall down her cheeks. The moment is so intimate. So fragile. I don’t want to break it with any words, but a small part of me feels like I’m intruding.
Glancing down at Marcy, I find her staring at Sway with the most sincere expression I’ve ever witnessed. It’s as if she’s honored to even be in the room during this moment when the truth is simple. Without Marcy, Sway wouldn’t have this experience at all. But that’s what makes Marcy so incredible. She would never take any credit for giving this to Sway, no matter how much she deserves it.
Marcy is…she’s something else.
Feeling my gaze, Marcy turns to me and gives me a broken smile as she blinks back tears. I don’t think she wants to break the moment either.
“Can you feel it?” Sway points to the screen where the baby is wiggling back and forth.
Marcy’s brows pull together in concentration before answering, “Sometimes. Not the little movements, but every once in a while, the little nugget will throw a solid punch or kick.”
Sway’s expression softens, but I don’t miss the longing in her gaze as she swallows thickly. “That’s…incredible.”
