Page 7 of The Surrogate Nanny

I scooped her out of the playpen. “You’re not worried, are you? Of course, not because you’re a baby.”

I paused and pressed my nose against her head, inhaling her calming scent. I looked into her eyes, those misty pools of trust, and sighed.

They’re getting lighter.

“Do you have to look so much like him?” I murmured. She cocked her head in question, unsure whohimwas. I shook my head. “Never mind, you don’t know him. Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?” Nori squealed. I suspected the word ‘rubbish’ tickled her. “That’s a funny word, huh? Rubbish.” She giggled harder.

I swept her into the bathroom as her giggles died into a deep yawn as we neared her bedtime.

“Are you gonna bite me when I try to brush your teeth?” I inquired. She stared at me somewhat blankly. I nodded. “I figured as much. Let’s get this over with.”

I sat her on the bathroom floor and handed her my phone as I got her water going. Ironically, she couldn’t speak, but somehow, she navigated to the same song repeatedly. I hummed along to the soulful track as I added her strawberry bubble bath.

“I think we should stay in tomorrow. I can take some time off. I can put those big bows in your hair that you conveniently lose, and we can go to the park. What do you think?” I was met with silence. I turned around and picked her up, collecting my phone from her hands. Before she could cry, I stripped her and put her in the pink plastic baby tub. The water settled then excited her while she splashed happily. I let her tucker out until the bubbly tub’s warmth faded.

***

The sound of rain caught my attention as I lotioned my little diva for bed. It was strange because there wasn’t a cloud in sight earlier. Nori stared at me with hooded eyes as I slipped her arms and legs into a yellow and white striped onesie. She was out before her little body hit the mattress in her crib. I eased the sheer white canopy around her crib closed and left her nursery to perform my evening motherly duties.

First, secure the house.

I padded toward the door and double-checked the locks.

You’re tripping. You triple-locked the house earlier. Get it together, Simone.

As I was about to walk away, someone rapped their fist against the door. My heart seized in my chest as the persistent knocking continued. Against my better judgment, I undid the locks and opened the door to find a familiar shock of wet black hair.

He stared at me with his white shirt translucent and plastered against his chiseled body. It remained quiet as the rain poured behind him. I expected him to yell and demand that I hand my baby over, but he remained silent with his lips pursed. He finally spoke after a minute of deafening silence.

“Terrible weather we’re having.”

Chapter Four

Anthony

“A-Anthony...what are...where have...you have to go!” Simone sputtered, attempting to close the door in my face. I wedged my cane in the door, refusing to leave as she demanded. “You need to leave before I call the police.”?

“What are you going to tell them? That you stole a baby from the hospital?”

She wrenched the door open and confronted me, giving me enough room to force myself in.

“No! Get out!” she shouted as she followed me through the apartment. I moved fast with my cane; the constant pain seemed to ebb away the closer I reached my daughter’s nursery. I stopped outside the door that was decorated with a pink and gold glittered wooden ‘N’ hanging from it.

N. I wonder what her name is.

“You forced yourself into my home. I’m calling the police.”

“You do that,” I said, ignoring her empty threat.

I entered the nursery and almost considered turning back around. The room was decorated in soft pinks and lilacs, fitting for a princess. I was drawn to the white crib nestled under a sheer white canopy.

“You can’t just show up after a year and take her away from me after you abandoned her!”

Simone’s accusations didn’t sit well with me. Anger and bitterness roiled inside of me chaotically. I was always present for Simone and my child—every appointment, maternity clothes shopping, the occasional late-night craving, and the intimate baby shower we had for my daughter—just the two of us.

How dare she.

I whirled around and confronted her. “I did not abandon her!” I seethed angrily. “The driver of an 18-wheeler thought it was a good idea to take a nap behind the wheel and t-boned me. I was in a coma for over a year. That is why I missed her birth, but I swear to you, I made plans to find her as soon as I woke.” My confession softened her hard features as she took in my injuries for the first time. “I don’t have to ask you for permission, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to meet my daughter for the first time.”

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