Page 6 of Both Sides Now

Shawn downs the rest of his drink, motioning to the server for a refill. “Callista, I know you’ll be an amazing mum. No doubt about it. If this is what your heart is set on, then I applaud you. I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” he adds, eliciting a groan from me, “I want you to consider two things.”

“Which are?”

“One is that you’ve suffered a few miscarriages already. You need to consider there may be something anatomically amiss that might prevent you from carrying Charlie’s baby. Idon’t want you to get your hopes up, only to have them dashed.”

I bite back a smile as my best friend slides on his doctor cap, although it’s a rational concern.

Hell, after my first miscarriage, I assumed there might be something wrong with me. By the third one, I was convinced I was broken.

I nod and take a long pull from my drink. “You’re right, and I’ve decided if I can’t carry the child safely, I’ll hire a surrogate.”

“That’s a great idea, but surrogates are ridiculously expensive,” Suzanne adds as she fiddles with her fork. “A coworker went that route and it cost her well over $150,000. Not to pry, but do you have that kind of money?”

“I do. Charlie, being Charlie, had an obscene life insurance plan. I have more than enough to cover the surrogate costs all the way up to when our child leaves for college.”

I know my friends’ concerns are valid, but I need to maintain my momentum. Every one of their questions is an obstacle tossed onto my mental racetrack in an attempt to slow me down. I don’t want to take the time to consider the what-ifs of the scenario.

I just want the baby. Our baby.

“What was your other concern, Shawn?” I inquire, smiling as the server brings around a refill.

Keep them coming, sir.

Like I said, I’m not pregnant yet.

“Not a concern, so much as a request.” Grabbing a napkin, he scribbles down a name in his illegible scrawl. “Give this guy a call.”

I study the napkin. “Keegan Russo. I hate to break it to you, Shawn, but a man will make a terrible choice for a surrogate.”

“Aren’t you all piss and vinegar this morning? He’s a reproductive endocrinologist.”

“Okay, I understood one word in that title.”

Shawn and Suzanne exchange grins before collapsing into a fit of giggles.

Either the alcohol is catching up to them or I missed a step somewhere.

I hold up the napkin, shooting my friend a strange look.

“What’s so damn funny? Did I mispronounce the bloke’s name? It is a bloke, right?”

“Yes. He’s most definitely male.”

“All man,” Suzanne chimes in with a wink, earning a glare from her husband.

“So, what’s with the chuckles?”

Shawn leans in as if letting me in on a high-level government secret. “They call him the Baby Maker. That’s his unofficial official title.”

“The Baby Maker?” I toss the napkin down on the table. “No thanks. I’m getting a bad feeling from this one already. Besides, why would I need a reproductive … whatever he is?”

“Call him, Callista. He’s a genius in the field of reproduction. They call him the Baby Maker because he’s helped so many couples—and single women—become parents. Hence, the Baby Maker.”

“That’s not theonlyreason.” Suzanne can barely contain her laughter as her husband shoots her another glare. “He’s also gorgeous. Every woman dreams of making a baby with him.”

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