Page 4 of The Surrogate Nanny

“Of course. When you arrived, your jaw was broken, and your face was lacerated from the windshield glass in several places. We set your jaw, and one of our surgeons, who specializes in plastic surgery, expertly sewed your face back together.” My fingers flew to my face. “Don’t worry. The scars make you seem more dangerous and rugged. I traced a finger along my jaw, where a scar ran from below my ear to my chin. My fingers smoothed a six-inch scar from my lip to my cheek. The others were minor and weren’t worth mentioning.

“What about my leg?”

The nurse sighed. “You’ve had a few surgeries to repair the extensive damage.”

“Extensive damage?”

“More likely than not, you’ll rely on assistive devices to ambulate.”

“A wheelchair?” I asked in shock.

“Or a walker or cane,” she rushed out when the beeps of the heart monitor picked up speed. “You have permanent muscle and nerve damage. I wish we could give you a better outlook, but you’ve been confined to a bed for a year, so we’re shooting in the dark here.”

“I’m sorry. What did you say? I’ve been in bed for how long?”

“You’ve been in a coma for a year.”

I closed my eyes and attempted to pray away my oncoming headache. Flashes of the past made their presence known.

Past

Knocking at the conference room door interrupted my anxious pacing. “Come in,” I called out. A woman’s head popped in through the narrow opening.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I’m in the right place.”

“Are you looking to have a stranger’s baby?” I asked bluntly. She nodded. “Then I guess you’re in the right place. Please come in so we can start the interview.” I sat at the head of the long mahogany conference table and steeped my fingers together as she shuffled in. At first glance, she appeared young—maybe too young, but she appeared healthy with child-bearing hips, as some would say, that punctuated the end of her hourglass figure. She chose a seat. Unsurprisingly, it was the furthest from me. Some described me as intimidating, but those who knew me best would say otherwise. “Closer.”

“What?”

“Please sit closer. Unless you prefer shouting,” I said, pushing back the black leather office chair nearest me. I focused on the file I had splayed before me and bit my bottom lip to avoid smirking. She was shaking like a leaf. “Are you always this nervous?” I asked when I flipped a page.

“Only when I’m having a baby for a stranger.”

I grinned. “Bonus points for you. You have a sense of humor.”

I’d spent the next hour and a half grilling the young woman, learning every intimate detail of her past, present, and future. I was surprised at how forthcoming she was. “We’re nearly done. I have one more question for you. Why?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why become a surrogate? You’re young, single, with no family and an average job. Why do you want to do this?”

“I mean...I want to make someone happy. Give them the gift of life,” she explained, smiling meekly

Lies. No one is that self-sacrificing.

“Since you’re giving the gift of life, then payment isn’t required. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Her mouth popped open in utter disbelief. “I-I-I-”

“Relax. I’m joking.”

“I’m sorry. You’re difficult to read. I don’t know when you’re joking or serious.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry. You’ll be compensated well. If our terms are agreeable, I’ll need you to sign on the dotted line,” I said, sliding the contract to her. She moved slowly to pick up the ink pen. I noticed she had a knack for making the simplest movement unnaturally graceful.Picking up a pen should not be so enchanting.

“I have a question,” she announced after thoroughly scanning the documents. “You’re by yourself?”

“Pardon?”

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