by Clara Reese
If there’s no upfront payout, I’m going to struggle here. I can’t keep myself healthy enough to conceive the way I am now. This shot looks longer and longer the more consideration I give it, but I’ve still got to try.
I look at myself in the mirror, pressing my lips together. Remembering the days when I actually had a decent lipstick, or a nice lip balm. I lick my lips and pinch them between my teeth instead.
I head out through the apartment building, which looks just as unkempt as the apartments in it, and hit the street. I can’t afford a cab or even a bus, so it’s just me and my feet today.
I look up into the sky, lines of clouds looking smudged on the edges. A tear burns at the corner of my eye and I take a deep breath. I try looking down, then up again. Eventually I have to stop and lean against a wall, taking more hard breaths.
It doesn’t matter what I do. These moments just come upon me. Along with the pain of being physically hurt by another human being, there is the absolute horror of knowing someone you love could do something like that.
And I did love him, so much. So much that I thought I could heal him, if only I could love him enough. Tomorrow, I’d do better. I’d be the perfect woman. The one he didn’t need to hurt.
The kind of therapy I need I can’t possibly afford. Someone told me mental illness is a rich person’s disease, but really, that doesn’t sound right to me. The rich don’t get mentally ill. They go into therapy and then they’re ‘in treatment’ and everyone can nod sagely about how great it is. Poor people just drown under their shit until you see one on the street before 9am crying her eyes out in a dark alley.
No one actually looks at me. It must not be that strange of a sight. A young woman in poorly-fitting clothes crying around the edge of a building. No big deal. Don’t let it ruin your day.
I wipe my face and sniff hard, trying to put some hope into my morning. Maybe I’ll sell a pile of eggs and walk out of there with fifty grand. Maybe I’ll sell some blood and walk out with a few hundred to pay my rent with. Who knows?
The thoughts don’t give me hope. They just make me worry. I can’t stop myself evaluating every single person I see on the street as they flow by me.
They all look so normal. I can’t help but try and see through them. Is this one a narcissist? Is this one a murderer? Does this one kill animals? I know that, realistically, every human being has some good in them, and the majority of people that I walk past have decent lives. They don’t hurt anyone. I just can’t help it.
This suspicion is the only thing that’s kept me safe. Well. Somewhat safe. I need to rely on my instincts so that I can actually get out of things before I get trapped. So far, I haven’t met a single person that I could trust. Not properly.
I’m so lost in thought I barely notice I’m right at the clinic. I stop and look at the doors, wondering if I’m really going to do this.
I keep thinking of the conditions I have and the many questions I’ll have to ask before I actually agree to have a strange woman’s embryo implanted in me. I think about the changes to my body and getting to know a baby I will eventually have to give up.
I think about Grady. I think about how he always finds me. Always. I’m his only focus, his singular target. I find myself gulping back tears all over again in my helpless rage.
Why? Why me? Can’t he pick someone else to dominate and hurt? Was my submission really that intoxicating that he can’t let it go?
I step away from the door and cover my eyes. I have to stop this shit. I’m never going to get anything done if I can’t stop crying.
I take another deep breath, coaching myself. This is what you’re here for, to get some money and make another leap, hopefully so far away he can never catch up. I’m not that special; he’ll give up if he can’t find me.
I close my eyes. Without taking time to think, I turn around and stride purposefully towards the door.
I don’t open my eyes until its way too late. The only thing I see of the other person is a flash of dark hair and a nice suit before we collide.
I hear us both grunt and papers are flying everywhere around us. I stagger back and hold my side, my ribs throbbing from the collision.
Through the fluttering pages I see blue eyes, icy and deep. Even though the entire world seems shaken by my whirlwind, she is a still point right in its center. All of a sudden, I can’t move. I’m stuck in place by the vision in front of me.
Her hand reaches out and snatches a piece of paper, still staring at me. Bashfully, I reach out and start gathering papers too.
“I’m so sorry.” My voice comes on like a running tap and I can’t turn it off. “Really sorry. God. Totally my fault. Had no idea where I was going. I’ll help you get all this—”
“It’s all right. Thank you.” Her voice cuts through my chatter like a hot knife in butter. She’s not rude or nasty, just completely calm, a calm my nerves can’t affect. I’m fascinated by her.
She’s willowy and graceful, with amazing skin. Her gorgeous face is only marred by a very light scar that nicks the edge of her eyebrow and traces her right cheek.
Her narrow hands flash out, efficiently gathering the pages. She hardly looks up at me at all. I scuffle away and grab a few more sheets from behind me, handing them to her.
“I really am sorry. My name’s Katrina. I should have been looking where I was going.”
“No problem.” She looks up at me and I’m transfixed by her eyes. “I’m Charlotte. Thanks for the help.”
She stands up and enters the clinic without looking back. The door swings closed, and I’m left standing on the street still wondering if I want to go inside or not.
Charlotte is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, and this is one of those moments where your head and your heart get mixed together and you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.
All my reservations vanish as I think about seeing Charlotte again. Even if it’s just a glimpse, a word or a smile.
I grasp the handle and push the door open. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but that fact hasn’t changed for me in the last few months. All I have left is damage control and survival.
At least I have a good excuse to go in, now.
I stride into the warm room with an air of confidence that I can’t feel. I might as well look like I have a purpose here, even if I can’t be sure what it is.
4
Charlotte
While I’m standing in line at the counter, the feisty redhead that ran into me out the front comes charging in. She sweeps the door open with more determination than confidence and then looks around like she has no idea what she’s doing here.
For some reason, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s gorgeous with that tumble of flame pouring over her shoulders. Her eyes may be wide with fear, but they are deep and beautiful. She’s slender and petite, looking nowhere near strong enough to deal with the trials of the world. It fills me with a sense of wanting to protect her, an urge that I haven’t felt so strongly in so long. Perhaps ever.
She lets the door swing shut behind her and looks more terrified than before. She glances around at the people reading magazines or waiting in line. When her phone rings, she looks like she’s going to bolt again.
I try not to watch her, but I can’t help myself. She burrows through her big canvas bag, so ratty and dirty it’s amazing that it still holds anything. The strap is frayed, and she handles it carefully.
After rummaging through the bag, she pulls out the phone. As she steals a glance at the screen, she groans a little and puts the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
She moves over to an out of the way corner and everyone ignores her. I’m not sure how they are doing it, when the girl practically crackles like fire.
“Yes. I told you, I will have the money. I’m sorry, Alec, I really am—What do you mean, we aren’t on a first name basis? Since when? Seriously? You don’t want me to get too familiar with you because then I’d hassle
you for more time. Well that’s just great. No, I don’t have anything for you today. I know the rent is months overdue. I know!”
Her voice is starting to rise in a frightened, frustrated way. People are beginning to look up from their magazines. I can’t stop looking at her.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Look if you just—no. No, don’t! Shit!”
She drops her phone back in her bag. I can see her hands shaking.
My heart just goes out to her. Something about her reminds me of Addy. I don’t know why. Addison was poor and struggling when we met. I was astounded to find out how much of the little money she made went to charity, as well as volunteering her time.
My eyes mist up but I’m good at holding that in now. I just look around the room quietly, finding that my eyes keep coming back to rest on Katrina.
She needs help. That’s plain to see. She’s young and healthy. She’s obviously here for a reason. If it’s to volunteer for surrogacy, that will be a definite sign.
It’s completely crazy, but I want to ask her. I just want to walk up to this strange woman—who ran into me, no less—and ask her to have my dead wife’s embryo implanted in her womb.
It sounds crazy. No one knows that more than me. But it’s like Addy set this up somehow. I can’t explain it. I clutch the ring around my neck and close my eyes, just missing her. It’s like she’s all around me, living in my air and behind my eyes, but I can never touch her again.
The line has moved and I’m next. The secretary smiles warmly, knowing me. Behind her I see Clara, one of the managers beckoning to me to come back into a private room.
I shake my head just a little and tear my eyes back to Katrina. She’s clutching at her bag like it might be a life raft, eyes wide and scared as she crumples in the corner of the room.
“Excuse me…Katrina, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Charlotte, right? Look, I’m really sorry about running into you. Maybe if—”
“No, no. Don’t worry about that. I want to ask you something else.”
Her eyes narrow just a little.
“What?”
I can see her withdrawing, like some kind of sea creature pulling its tentacles into a hole in the rocks. She seems to wander through the world expecting people not to notice her, even while she’s flying through life like a fireball. When she’s pinned and given someone’s full attention, she does a full retreat.
Her eyes dart around like a wild animal. I find my tongue creeping to the corner of my mouth. I don’t know what it is, but she interests me. That look says she had a safe place and lost it, now she feels she’s not safe anywhere.
I want to make her feel safe. I want to take her out of this crazy world she doesn’t understand and put her away in a place where she doesn’t have to be bombarded by attentions she doesn’t want. Her fear is partially because the world just keeps letting her down.
I can’t get into all of that. She’ll think I’m a lunatic. Maybe she already thinks that.
Nothing for it. Go girl.
“Well. I’m sorry to just come right out with this…Since you are here, I thought maybe…Why are you here? Are you having fertility issues?”
She scoffs, laughing at me. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much. I suppose I’ll find out. I’m just here to offer myself, you know, if I can find a nice person, I can help out…” Her voice trails off and I can see by her face even she isn’t buying it. If she can’t sell the lie to herself, she can’t expect me to swallow it.
“Okay. I’m just going to say it. I’m sorry if you feel I’m coming on too strong. I’ve been in here for a while now looking for a surrogate. If that’s what you’re here to do, we should talk. Maybe I could buy you breakfast or—”
Her eyes go wide. She looks me up and down.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asks bluntly.
I blink slowly, pressing my lids together to force Addy out of the edges of my vision.
“I’m not…not suitable. The embryos are ready to be implanted. I just haven’t found the right person yet.”
She takes a step back and the wall is waiting behind her. I don’t understand her reaction. If she was here for this, isn’t having me approach her a good result? I can’t believe the offer of free breakfast had no effect. Addison lived for free food, it’s always been a good way to get a beautiful woman to listen to you.
“I’m sorry.” She says again. “I’m not sure about this at all. I mean, I came in here and everything, but I wasn’t ready to commit. Not yet.”
“Look, I can see you’re in trouble.” I try my no-nonsense voice. “I don’t know why, but I want to offer this to you. I’ve been looking a long time and I want to discuss things further with you. A lot of women don’t like my conditions.”
She just stares at me, her face barely showing the thoughts that I know are racing behind her expression.
I’ve come on too strong. I do that when I really want something. I take a step back, so she feels less trapped.
“Can you think about it, at least? If we agree, then I can certainly help you out, straight away. All I want to do is talk.” I try a smile, but it feels strange on my face. I don’t have much cause to smile, not anymore.
She looks up at me with her eyes shining and her face hopeful, but sad. I haven’t hung on someone’s response like this for a long time. I have no idea what she’s going to say, but suddenly I feel desperate. I don’t want to let this woman get away from me.
I try to reason with myself and not be so possessive. Still, I can’t help getting nervous about what she’s going to say.
5
Katrina
I’m so shocked, I can barely react. Charlotte is standing in front of me cool and collected like she has conversations like this every day. I can’t see a hint of nervousness in her. She’s completely in control.
I feel like flame on water, rising and falling, burning hotter all the time. I know that Charlotte is only doing this because she overheard my conversation. It’s really nice that she wants to help out but I’m not ready for this.
I know I walked in here hoping for a quick fix to all my problems, but I really don’t think this is it. I have to admit that part of the reason I feel so confronted is that Charlotte seems so nice.
I don’t want to drag my shit into her life. I don’t know why, but she has an effect on me. I feel like if I accept, it will end up going to hell like everything else in my existence.
“I’m sorry. No. I’m not interested.”
I wait to see a reaction on her face but there is none. Her smile dies a little, but it doesn’t change her eyes.
“Okay. I hope you don’t mind me asking.”
She turns and walks away, and I feel like I just lost something. Something really important that I can’t get back. It makes me want to run after her and grab her arm, but I don’t. I just let her go.
The secretary sticks her head over the counter and peers at me.
“Are you alright there, miss?”
“Sure. Yeah.” I head for the counter now that Charlotte has moved. She goes behind the desk and talks to a lady who must be one of the managers. I try not to look at them.
“I just want to put my name down. For the surrogacy program.”
“Okay dear, I’ll need you to fill out some forms. If there is any interest in you then you’ll have to come in and have some tests done. That’s just standard.”
She hands me a clipboard with several sheets of paper on it and I go through each page. I fill the forms in as best I can, hoping all this stuff is not that relevant. I leave feeling worse than when I came.
I head home, trying not to think about all my problems. It’s really difficult to get away from them when they are all you have.
I walk through a park on the way home and look at all the happy people. It would be so nice to just walk up to a juice bar or ice cream stand and buy something. I don’t need money to enjoy the sun or the flowers, but it would be nice to no
t be hungry and thirsty all the time.
I’m even sadder when I leave the park. It felt good for a few minutes but when I remember the only place I have to go, it makes everything seem dark.
I get to my building and head slowly up the dark stairs. People are yelling and crying everywhere, and I have to dodge piles of garbage. No one gives a fuck in here.
I ram open my door and think about what I can do. I got away from Grady and now I’m still trapped. It’s a small comfort that this, as bad as it is, is not as bad as life with Grady.
That cheers me up a little as I make a cup of tea. It’s one of the few things I can afford, and I make it up carefully, determined to enjoy it. When my phone rings suddenly, I almost drop it and curse as hot water splashes on my hand. I assume it’s Alec again.
“Hello?” I try not to sound confrontational.
“Hello. Katrina Stone?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Nancy, and I’m calling from the local clinic, where you recently filled in an application. Charlotte Monroe has requested you be put on her list. Are you available to discuss the contract?”
“Ah…” I don’t know what to make of this. “I don’t know.”
“Well, let me just start by saying Charlotte has a full list of conditions. She has had trouble finding a surrogate who can agree. Let me just run through a few and if you aren’t prepared to comply, we can end the conversation right here.”
“Okay.” I’m even more confused now than before.
“First of all, you would have to move in with her. Charlotte is a rich woman who can provide you with private lodgings at her apartments. She will need to be in contact with you at all times. There will be an approved meals list as well as supplementary nutrition requirements. Medical appointments will be every two weeks. Any lifestyle changes Charlotte wishes you to make will have to be complied with. You will be fully compensated, of course.”