What's Left of Us Page 9

  We look at one another. Parker winks and my heart skips a beat.

  “Kind of.” I laugh uncomfortably.

  Parker takes my hand. “I worked with her brother-in-law, who hired her. We met a few days before she started working, but it took some convincing on my part to get her to go on a date with me.”

  “The hockey game wasn’t a date.”

  “Like I said, call it what you will; it was a date.”

  I shake my head, but laugh internally. After all these years, you would think we’d have that cleared up.

  “What a fun story! I love it.”

  If she only knew.

  Parker clears his throat. “What made you decide to be a surrogate?”

  “I did this for my sister two years ago. She tried to have a baby and couldn’t. They really wanted their own and I offered. It was so amazing to be able to give that gift to them. I told Ron I’d love to do this for a family I didn’t know. It took until about four months ago for us to decide it was a good time to do it. I was surprised to be matched so soon, but then …”

  Ron stays quiet, but takes her hand in support. I can tell how hard it was on her for the previous contract to fall through. She seems to really want to do this for a deserving couple.

  “I’m sorry that fell through,” I say. Though Polly told me it was the intended parents who called it off, we’re not allowed to discuss details with Wendy per the legal contract.

  “Me too, but, like you said, we’re here now. One’s loss is another’s gain,” Parker states.

  Wendy smiles.

  “You know, this is an amazing gift. It takes a strong, generous person to be able to do this for someone. Twice,” I say.

  “Thank you. It was the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done for another person. I can’t tell you how great it felt knowing I was helping my sister fulfill her dream of having a child. I would love to do that for another family. I thought I found them, but they decided they weren’t ready. Which is okay. I know firsthand how scary it is to have a child and the nerves that take over. I don’t blame them. I’m just grateful Polly found you two so quickly, and I hope it works out.”

  She’s so nice and I can’t help but like her right away.

  The waitress returns and we order. I don’t think any of us can handle eating much. I take a small sip of my water before asking, “How many kids do you have?”

  “Two. Both girls.”

  “And you look that good!” I say. She really does.

  Wendy flushes at my compliment.

  “How old are they?” Parker asks.

  “Seven and five. My niece is two now. It was hard for my sister to watch me get pregnant with them so easily. She and my brother-in-law tried for eight years. She took every fertility drug you could think of. Nothing was working, and the doctors couldn’t explain why she wasn’t getting pregnant. A medical mystery they called it.”

  “Wow,” Parker and I say. I feel awful for her sister. I can’t imagine trying that long for a baby only to be let down month after month. I also give her a lot of credit. It takes a strong woman to go through all that for so long.

  “May I ask you how long you’ve been trying?” Wendy says.

  I look over at Parker. This is the moment I was dreading. I’ve never liked being the center of attention.

  Parker starts to answer for me, knowing how I feel, but I know I should be the one to explain. “I’m a cancer survivor. Unfortunately, I’m not able to carry a child.” I say, as honestly and firmly as I can. It takes a lot to open up and say you have cancer, but it shouldn’t take a lot to say you are a survivor.

  And that’s what I am.

  A survivor.

  Parker takes my hand in his and I can feel him trying to comfort me.

  “Wow, I’m so sorry to hear that, but congratulations,” Wendy says. She looks like she wants to reach out and touch me, too; her eyes are sorrowful and I can tell her heart goes out to us.

  Ron gives me a sad smile and echoes Wendy. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad everything is on the positive now.”

  “Thank you. Really, it’s okay. There’s no need to be sorry. I’ve been cancer-free for almost three years now.”

  “That’s something to be proud of right there.”

  “It is, thank you.”

  I don’t feel it’s necessary to discuss my cardiomyopathy with her. She doesn’t need to hear about how I couldn’t catch a break. Telling her about my history is one thing; what might be in my future is quite another.

  We eat lunch and continue talking for a few hours. We learn more about Wendy’s deliveries and children, and about Ron, who works in construction. When it’s time to go, we say our goodbyes and exchange hugs.

  She’s perfect. I can’t find one thing I don’t like about her. We get along great, she’s smart, has a wonderful life, loves kids, and seems like she’ll care for our unborn baby as if he or she were one of her own.

  When we get back in the car, Parker and I start talking at the same time.

  “She’s perfect!”

  “She’s great, Aundrea. Her enthusiasm about the entire thing, and her reasoning … I couldn’t ask for a better reason from someone.”

  “It’s also comforting to deal with someone who has gone through this process before.”

  “I agree. I have a good feeling about this and her.”

  Parker gives me a long kiss filled with promise before we set off home. I refuse to let anyone or anything ruin this for us. Nothing else matters.

  We drive back to Circle of Life to meet Polly. It didn’t take much to get Kevin and Jason to cover my afternoon schedule. They’re both very supportive of this entire process and told me not to worry. They’ll cover when they can.

  “Parker, Aundrea, this is Tim. He’s going to be representing you. He’ll walk you through the contract that we’ve started and will finalize after the numbers are figured out. Then he’ll have the contract sent over to the lawyer who is representing Wendy. If she accepts, we’ll proceed.”

  “Sounds good,” I say as Aundrea nods frantically.

  “Okay, let’s get to it.”

  It seems so formal. Who would have thought that having a baby would mean so many formalities? This is way more invasive than I’d ever thought.

  “Okay, first things first,” Tim says, “I’ve drawn up the contract based on Wendy’s previous contract that fell though. Remember, this is all negotiable.” We both nod. “She’s asking for $22,000. That is a little lower than the average rate of $25,000 for a single birth, so I think it’s fair to stick with that.”

  Aundrea looks my way. I can see her processing this, but we knew from our paperwork to expect about $25,000, so that’s a non-issue.

  I run the numbers in my head. “And what happens if she doesn’t get pregnant?”

  “We’ll write it into the contract that the first of four payments is non-refundable, with the stipulation that she agrees to try for four months. If she doesn’t get pregnant in four months, she is free to walk away, as are both of you. Or you can re-sign and the initial payment will carry over for an additional two months. After six months, the contract is void and, if you wish to continue, new contracts will be signed.”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Aundrea says.

  “I like what you’ve suggested,” I agree.

  “Next up, there is no mention of how many embryos you want to transfer. Wendy is open to a maximum of two, but in the case of a multiple birth the $22,000 doubles.”

  Aundrea’s eyes go wide. “Twins?”

  “It’s just a formality we must discuss,” Tim says calmly.

  “We didn’t discuss how many,” I add. I think we both assumed it would only be one.

  “The number to be transferred is strictly up to you. Some people transfer up to four embryos for a higher probability of pregnancy, but Wendy is young and healthy, so the chances of one taking are higher than if she were older and higher risk,” Polly interjects.

  “O
ne is good!” Aundrea says quickly. We all laugh.

  “Okay, one it is,” I declare. “And if by some chance that splits and turns into multiples, we’ll make it work.”

  “Aundrea, are you okay?” Polly asks. I look over to see her gulping her water.

  “This is a lot, I know, but we need to cover every eventuality so we’re prepared,” I reassure her.

  “I understand. It all sounds good.”

  I squeeze her hand to let her know it’s okay and don’t let go as we discuss maternity leave, vaginal versus a caesarean deliveries, and other costs. We figure everything out to the last penny. Tom and Polly don’t leave out a single detail. We spend three hours making sure we have the clearest, most airtight contract we can. I ask questions, make notes, and ask Aundrea’s opinion on everything, which keeps her relaxed. But by the time we head home, Aundrea has yet to speak more than a few words.

  She’s staring out her window, clearly thinking hard about something. Her mouth is a straight line and she’s twirling a strand of her silky hair around her finger.

  Reaching over, I tap her leg. “Hey, you okay?”

  When she looks at me it’s like she’s pulling herself out of a fog. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “What has you so deep in thought?” She licks her lips, then begins to play with her thumb ring. “Aundrea?”

  “Do we really have this kind of money right now, Parker? For all this? I mean, with the house and all?” I can see the lines of concern on her face.

  “We are more than okay, babe. I promise. And besides, I’d pay twice that amount if it meant having a baby with you.”

  Her lips tremble as she rests her head back. “Have you always been this perfect?”

  “No. You make me perfect.”

  She closes her eyes, finally resting peacefully. “I love you,” she says.

  “I love you more, beautiful.”

  Wendy accepted our contract Monday, which means everything needs to happen quickly. The embryos need three to five days to develop, so we decide to have the clinic fertilize eight eggs, one to be transferred now and the rest to be used at a later date if needed.

  We arrive in Minneapolis just after 7:00 that evening. We’re told to have the sample to the office no later than 8:00 Tuesday morning and given proper instructions on collecting it. They said I could deposit the sample at the clinic so we wouldn’t have to come up a night early, but there is no way I’m ejaculating in a cup with nurses and doctors walking around just outside the door.

  When morning comes, I think I must still be dreaming. I feel the softness of Aundrea’s lips first, wrapping around me, followed by her warm breath. I become hard instantly when her tongue comes out, tracing around the tip of my erection. She swirls her tongue around the tip before taking me all the way into her mouth.

  I groan out, “Holy, fucking shit, Aundrea.” My eyes pop wide open as she takes me to the back of her throat, slowly easing me in and out several times.

  “Fuck, Aundrea.”

  Her mouth feels so fucking amazing right now. As her head moves up and down, I tug gently on her hair. I don’t force her to move faster, allowing her to go at the speed she pleases. She’s amazing all on her own.

  Letting out a sigh, I relax into the pillow.

  She stops moving her head and starts tracing my hardness with her tongue, sucking and tasting every inch. I lose control, pulling on her hair, and she moans backs. The vibrations from her mouth set my insides on fire.

  “That’s it, baby,” I cry out.

  She pumps me fast as she sucks. It’s the hottest thing ever, and I only wish there was a mirror above me so I could watch her every move.

  As much as I’m enjoying this, there’s nothing I want more than to get her off. The look on her face when she screams out my name is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I know the minute I finish we’ll have to head to the clinic, and I’m far from wanting to finish.

  A glance at the clock shows that it’s only about 6:30. Plenty of time.

  Reaching down, I pull her up. She glances up at me in confusion. “What? Is everything okay?” She flushes with embarrassment. It’s so sexy.

  “You’re perfect, but I want to—I need to get you off. I want to make you feel good, babe.”

  “Parker, this is supposed to be about you today. Not me.”

  “It’s always about you.” I flip her to her back, and she lets out a small squeal.

  “Parker!”

  “Trust me.”

  Pulling down her thong, it takes everything in me not to bury myself deep inside. She looks so tempting, but I know if I get inside her, I’ll never be able to stop and finish in some fucking little cup.

  I kiss her stomach, then down to her thigh and back up again. Her legs fall open, giving me all the access I need. I bring my mouth to the place I know is aching to be touched. That I am aching to touch. As soon as my tongue touches her she’s calling out my name.

  I lap at her slick folds, tracing circles, then dip down inside of her. Her breathing picks up and when her hands grip my hair, I move faster. I love when she pulls my hair.

  I lift her legs up on my shoulders. As my tongue moves, her hips rock against me. I slip a finger inside her, too, and, as she cries out in surprise, I slide another finger inside, filling her. Her hips begin moving faster, riding my face as I thrust my fingers deeper.

  “That’s it baby,” I murmur against her.

  “Please, don’t stop.”

  Sweat drips down my back and I welcome the heat in the room.

  “That … don’t … yes, like that,” she moans as I move my tongue. There’s nothing sexier than her telling me what she likes in bed.

  It doesn’t take long before I feel her body tighten around my fingers. I don’t stop moving until her breathing slows and I know her last wave is over. Wiping my mouth on the inside of her thigh, I slide back up her body, trailing kisses as I go. She cups my face and presses our mouths together. I groan in response, pushing my tongue inside so she can taste her own sweetness. She cries out, clawing at me to move closer.

  Sex has always been great with Aundrea. I’ve never had to question it, or ask for more, and I love that she doesn’t shy away from me when I go down on her.

  “Now, handsome, I have some work to do.” Sliding out from underneath me, she goes back to her earlier position.

  I glance at the clock to check the time: just after seven. I hate being on a schedule when it comes to this, but I also don’t want to miss our opportunity.

  We’re about a five-minute drive from the clinic and it will only take fifteen minutes to shower and get ready, so that leaves us with a good twenty minutes. More than enough time to get the job done.

  Aundrea’s hot mouth is back on my erection, and I close my eyes with pleasure. She sucks hard, pumps fast, and doesn’t stop until I’m close to my release.

  My hands weave through her hair, gently coaxing her up and down. She doesn’t need much coaxing. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing with her mouth.

  “Babe, cup. I’m close.” She stops suddenly, reaching over to get the cup the clinic provided to us. I continue to stroke myself as I wait. I don’t look away from her naked form, her back arching perfectly as she gets the cup.

  With the lid off in record time, I lean up, spilling my release. Aundrea gives me a few soft kisses on the side of my face as I do.

  “That was so romantic.” I laugh.

  She giggles, falling onto the bed next to me. She falls quiet when I cup her face tenderly, and a flush creeps over her checks. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  The air between us heats up again.

  I drive to Olaf Café to meet Amy the Sunday following the implantation. It’s a newer café in the heart of downtown Rochester, which is why I refuse to move from this city. This area has the best coffee and food. Period.

  With only a few other cars in the parking lot, I spot Amy’s Corolla easily. I walk quickly through the sprinkling rain. As nice as it was
this morning when I opened the windows, I still love the rain. Especially on warm spring days like today. There’s something about the brisk air mixed with the smell of rain hitting the asphalt that puts me in a good mood.

  Moving past a middle-aged couple in the entryway, I shake off the rain.

  “Good morning!” the hostess greets. I’ve seen her before. She’s young, maybe eighteen or nineteen, and has this adorable pixie cut. It suits her features.

  “Morning,” I reply.

  “How many?”

  “Two, but I think the woman I’m meeting is already here.”

  “Right this way.” We weave through the small seating area and past the electric fireplace that’s glowing in the corner to the faint sound of alternative rock. The café has about fifteen tables inside and eight on the covered patio. On rainy days like today, I love nothing more than to come here, sit outside under the canopy, and listen to the sound of rain. It’s relaxing and helps me think, so it’s perfect that we’re meeting here.

  Amy looks tired, with dark circles under her eyes, but she smiles when we approach.

  “Can I get you anything?” the hostess asks as I take my seat across from Amy. We’re at my favorite table in the corner. It’s perfect for people watching on the street outside. The rain is soft and light so it doesn’t blow in our faces.

  “Yes. I’ll take a tall house blend with extra cream and sugar, please. Oh, and a water with lemon. Thank you.” Even though I know the menu by heart, I look at it anyway.

  “How are you?” I ask.

  “I’m doing good. We stayed up way too late last night packing.”

  “Packing?”

  “Yeah, Ethan and I are going to go spend some time up north with my parents. Just a week or so before the summer programs start.”

  “That will be fun!” I smile.

  After a few minutes, she asks about Wendy. “You’re in a good mood. I take it everything went well?”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “You can’t stop smiling.”

  I’m smiling? I grin even wider—until it’s almost painful.

  When I don’t answer right away she says, “Spill it.”