Page 52 of The Surrogate Mother
He smiles. “Oh yeah? That must be something.”
“It is.” She returns his smile. “Here, feel.”
And then she picks up his hand and places it firmly on the bulge of her abdomen. To his credit, Sam looksembarrassed, but he doesn’t pull away from her. He allows her to hold his hand on her belly. After a few moments, his eyes widen. “Oh, wow! That’s incredible!”
“Isn’t it?” she laughs. “It’s like he’s always keeping me company.”
Monica removes her hand, but Sam doesn’t move his. He’s still got his palm pressed to her midsection, feeling the baby shift. He’s got a silly grin on his face. “Abby,” he says, “you’ve got to feel this!”
I don’t want to touch Monica any more than she wants me to touch her. Fortunately, we’re saved by a nurse calling out Monica’s name.
The three of us are heading to the back, but the nurse stops us. “I’m so sorry,” she says, “but we only allow one other person in the room during pregnancy checks. It’s just a rule we have.”
What kind of stupid rule is that? Monica’s eyes immediately go to Sam, and it’s obvious who her preference is. But Sam quickly says, “Abby, you should go. I was already at the last two appointments.”
Monica’s lips set into a straight line. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He smiles crookedly. “I’ll just wait out here. I got to feel the baby, so that’s the best part.”
Monica doesn’t speak to me at all on the way to the examining room, clearly pissed at me for being here when Sam is not. She makes a point of walking several steps ahead of me, so she doesn’t even have to look at me. And when we get to the examining room, she regards me coolly and says, “Would you mind stepping out so I can change?”
“Sure,” I say, not mentioning the fact that she was fine with me being there when she changed during the first visit.
I step outside the room, but it’s clear she’s not going to call me back inside until the doctor arrives. Which is finebecause the last thing I want is to be standing awkwardly in that room with her.
Dr. Wong comes walking down the hall, her white coat hanging loose on her shoulders. She sees me standing outside the room, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh!” she manages.
“Hello.” I give her a half-hearted wave. “I’m Abby. I don’t know if you remember me from the first visit…”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her smile is strained. “Sorry, I just… somehow I didn’t realize you were still involved.”
I blink at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” Her cheeks color. “Monica’s husband has been here for the last couple of visits, so I thought…”
“Monica’s… husband?”
Dr. Wong nods. “Yes. He’s maybe in his thirties, brown hair, glasses, fairly, um,… attractive.”
“Sam?”
She snaps her fingers. “Yes, that’s right! Sam.”
“No, Sam ismyhusband,” I correct her.
“Oh!” She laughs. “Well, I suppose that makes more sense, doesn’t it? I could have sworn they said he was her husband though.”
I want to tell Dr. Wong she’s got it wrong, but I can’t quite get the words out. All of a sudden, I get this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can imagine Monica telling the doctor that Sam is her husband—that seems consistent with her recent behavior. But Sam would never have gone along with it. If the doctor had asked him, he would have told her that he wasn’t Monica’s husband. He would have corrected her.
Wouldn’t he?
21
When Monica comes into my office this morning with my coffee, there’s no denying it anymore—she is really visibly pregnant. People at work are going to start noticing very soon, if they haven’t already.
It’s not surprising. She’s now seven months along. It’s amazing she’s managed to hide it this long, even with her creative fashion choices. I heard some snarky secretaries in the ladies' room whispering about how Monica needs to “cut back on the chocolate.” I’ve heard still others joking about who the father might be. The gig is definitely up.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her carefully.
