Page 6 of The Surrogate Nanny

“Simone Livingston.”

I spent the next few minutes giving Jonathan as many details about Simone as I could remember off the top of my head.

“I’ll take care of it. Where are you?”

“I’m at West Saint Memorial Hospital.”

“Where the hell is that?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“I’ll make a few calls, and then I’ll be on my way to get you.”

I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I fucked up badly.

“Jon?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, Ant... I know.”

Chapter Three

Simone

It was spring and the heat was already sweltering. It was the type of heat that not even the shortest shorts and coldest ice cream could combat. I frantically waved a persistent mosquito away as I propped my bare feet on a folding lawn chair beside me.

The sun was setting, and I took a moment to enjoy the enticing sunset with my daughter. It was just the two of us enjoying the heat, as it was meant to be.

Nori sat on a musical playmat in front of me with a pufferfish water toy that squirted water at when squeezed. Her chubby hands motioned the toy to her mouth. I pushed them down gently and stroked her black hair. I didn’t know anything about the other half of her—her mother’s side—but all I could see was her father when I looked at her. She looked up at me and grinned, putting her beaver teeth on full display. I smiled back and kissed her head as her hands flapped in excitement.

“It was a beautiful day, Nori. Not as beautiful as you, of course, but a close second,” I said, picking her up from the mat. She squirmed excitedly in my arms and patted my face with her cool hands. She giggled, and I wondered if she understood me sometimes. Some suggested that babies her age only understood tone; others would say they knew exactly what you were saying. I wasn’t sure about anyone else’s baby, but mine hung on to every word. I could tell from the way she looked into my eyes.

“Wanna dance?” I asked, preemptively turning our little boombox we picked up from a thrift store to the R&B station. I smiled widely when she cheered and clapped in my arms when “I’m Goin’ Down” by Mary J. Blige played harmoniously from the speaker. The song was just right for dancing as the sun went down and the temperature cooled. I spun us around with her hand in mine as she laughed gleefully. I admired her. She lived from moment to moment without a care in the world. She didn’t care that it might’ve been a little tacky to dance on the stoop of our apartment as her mother horribly butchered the song. She only cared that it was me that she laughed and danced with. I felt the same—never wanting the moment to end.

It wasn’t long before the day, and the ravenous mosquitoes caught up with us.

“Okay, baby. I think it’s time for us to go inside,” I said, setting her on her feet. I took her hand and led her into our humble abode. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was all I could afford on my measly salary of $17.00 an hour working at a call center. None of that mattered. It was ours and served us well.

I started to shut the door behind us and paused as a chill seeped into my skin. I had no idea what caused the rolling sensation in my stomach. I peered out the door through narrowed eyes, attempting to determine where the feeling came from. I had an unnerving sense that we were being watched.

I slammed the door quickly and secured it with the deadbolt and chain. I grabbed Nori and checked the backdoor. She protested, but I didn’t have time to stop and soothe her. Something felt...off.

The skin on my arms pebbled. A hand touched me, making me jump. I sighed a breath of relief when I realized Nori was the source.

“Mama.”

I smiled and reassured her. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m just paranoid,” I expressed as I set her in her playpen. I rounded the small apartment to check the windows. “This isn’t a bad neighborhood. Yeah, it has its issues occasionally, but you’re more likely to have your car broken into than be murdered, you know?” I rambled. I glanced back, and Nori was perfectly content eating her hands, giving her blessing for me to continue to revel in my paranoia. “I don’t think anyone is watching us. Who could possibly be watching us? There are no convicted child molesters in the neighborhood. Believe me. I check monthly.” I frowned to myself.

That’s just convicted. What about the ones you don’t know about?

My stomach unsettled even more. Having a child made you fearful of the world. It wasn’t until you had a child that you fully understood the horrors that lie out there.

“Mama!”

I smiled and tucked away my fears. Nori only knew a few words, but Mama was at the top of the list. She made other little sounds, but they weren’t quite words, at least not words I could decipher.

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