Page 51 of The Surrogate Mother
“And what does she say about it?”
“She’s thinking about it.” A guy cuts Sam off and he curses under his breath, but doesn’t honk. “She wants to apply to our program, but I thought that might be awkward because… well, you know.”
“Gee, you think?”
Sam lets out a sigh. “Look, let’s not talk about Monica anymore. Okay?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know.” He grins at me. “How about baby names? We don’t have much time left to decide.”
I can’t help but return his smile. “I’m not going to cave on Adam.”
“What’s wrong with Adam? It’s a great name. Biblical.”
“Adam Adler? It’s a little too much alliteration. Sounds like the civilian identity of a Marvel superhero.”
“What about Jacob?”
“No. I dated a guy named Jake.”
“So?”
“So it would be weird!”
“Fine.” Sam rolls his eyes. “What about Richard?”
“I also dated a guy named Richard.”
“Matthew?”
“I also dated a Matthew.”
He snorts. “Maybe we need to look to more international names to find one that you haven’t already dated.”
“Okay, but keep in mind, I spent a semester abroad in Italy.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to know.”
It’s sort of odd in a way how Sam and I haven’t discussed our prior relationships much. I know he’s had girlfriends before me—it would be weird if he hadn’t since we didn’t start dating until we were in our mid-twenties. If I ever asked him about it, he’d say something vague about it being in the past, then ask me why I wanted to know so badly. Or he’d make some comment about them, like, “The relationship wasn’t a big deal.” It irked me because I worried someday he’d be talking to a future girlfriend about me, and say, “Abby wasn’t a big deal.”
Of course, then when we got engaged, I recognized our relationshipwasa big deal to him, so I put that particular worry out of my head. But I was still curious about his previous girlfriends. Maybe because I couldn’t imagine any girl breaking up with a great guy like Sam, but at the same time, it’s hard to imagine him dumping anyone. I can’t picture him having a conversation like that.
We arrive at Dr. Wong’s office with enough time for Sam to find parking and then walk over together. I can’t help but notice that while we walk to the doctor’s office, he doesn’t hold my hand like he usually does. But I suppose this isn’t really a hand-holding type of atmosphere.
When we get into the waiting room, Monica is already there. She stands up when she sees us, and my jaw falls open. She usually makes an effort to hide her baby bulge when she’s at work, but now she’s wearing a blue maternity shirt with a string that ties just below her large boobs, and… God, she lookssopregnant. I shouldn’t be surprised because she’s nearly seven months along, but wow, she’s big. There’s no question of there being a baby in there.
Sam’s baby.
Monica’s face lights up at the sight of us. As we get closer, she rushes over and throws her arms around Sam’s shoulders. If my jaw weren’t already hanging open, that would have done it. I had no idea Sam and Monica had a hugging type of relationship. Sam especially is not much of a hugger. He’s very affectionate with me, but he’s ranted before about how he dislikes random displays of affection from friends or relatives.The only person I want to hug or kiss is my wife. And maybe my mother.
And Monica, apparently. Because he is definitelynotpushing her away.
Monica waves at me—I don’t warrant a hug. I can’t stop staring at her midsection. I can’t get over how big she is. Whatever she’s been doing to hide it at work is admirable, but it’s clearly not going to work for much longer.
Sam seems equally mesmerized by her stomach. He keeps looking at it and finally feels compelled to comment, “The baby’s getting big.”
She nods eagerly. “And active! He’s been kicking up a storm today.”
