Page 34 of The Surrogate Mother
“Listen to me, Abby,” my mother says, her voice suddenly very serious. “Life lesson—you can’t trust men. None of them.”
“I can trust Sam.”
“Especially not Sam.”
“Mother!”
“Fine,” she grumbles. “Sam is no less trustworthy than other men. Happy?”
Not really. But I’m not going to belabor the point.
“All I’m saying,” she continues, “is you don’t want to leave him alone withthat woman. He’s a man and he won’t be able to help himself.”
“OhGod.”
“That’s simply the way men are.”
“He’s not ananimal,” I snap at her. “He’s a decent person. He’s not going to cheat on me because the opportunity arises. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t he?”
“No! He wouldn’t!”
And I believe that. I really do.
“Fine, Sam’s a saint,” my mother snorts. “But… all I’m saying is be careful, Abby. Don’t tempt fate.”
Maybe I won’t mention to my mother that we invited Monica to have dinner with us. I get the feeling she won’t approve.
14
“Do we really have to do this?”
Sam is being his usual antisocial self and kicking up a fuss about having Monica over for dinner tonight. I called to remind him to put the lasagna I made in the oven, and he’s taking the opportunity to piss and moan about how he doesn’t want to do this. I’m sure he must realize it’s futile though—Monica is coming, whether he likes it or not.
“Yes, we have to,” I say.
“Do I have to wear nice clothes?”
“Yes.”
“And by nice clothes, you mean…?”
“I mean if you open the door in sweatpants and that T-shirt with the rip in the sleeve, I will murder you.”
“Okay. Gym shorts then. Got it.”
I roll my eyes at the phone. “I’m going to trust you’re joking.”
“Relax, Abby. I’m putting the lasagna in the oven as we speak while wearing my tuxedo.”
“Sam…”
“I just don’t understand why we have to do this,” he sighs. “We’re paying for her to go to grad school. We’re going to cover her expenses when she quits your company. Why do we have to havedinnerwith her?”
“You don’t like to have dinner with anyone.”
“I like to have dinner withyou.”
