When their account had a half a million dollars in it and Jack was booked a year in advance with clients and speaking engagements, the happy couple set their sights on starting a family. For as much as Julia loved being a nurse, she was over the moon at the prospect of being the mother of Jack's children. Being young, the first miscarriage, although sad, didn't panic them. The doctor wasn't overly alarmed and told them they were free to try again as soon as they were ready. Tried they did, on a daily basis and sometimes twice on weekend days, but the only thing that came from it was continued heartache. Julia miscarried two more times. On that third occasion, Jack merely suggested they not try anymore and his normally calm and accommodating wife utterly unraveled. She was hysterical, her shrieking words coming out on gasped breath and hearty sobs. She blamed herself and accused him of secretly doing the same. He was willing to take all the emotional hits she swung at him until she suggested that he didn't want to be with her since she couldn't give him an heir. Reaching to yank off her wedding ring in true dramatic fashion, proclaiming their marriage over made Jack Simmons ready to trade every success in if it meant sparing the love of his life the heartache that came with each failed attempt.
Depression blanketed the beautiful brownstone the couple occupied on the upper east side of Manhattan. Julia had been through three miscarriages, and although Jack was by her side every step of the way and endured his own deep sadness, there was little he could do to ease her pain or guilt. They had always discussed having children, but the prospect that they wouldn't be able to hadn't occurred to them. Now, that thought overtook every aspect of their lives.
She insisted on seeing specialists, but the answer never changed. She was repeatedly assured that she could and would get pregnant but wouldn't likely survive gestation or delivery. Jack saw that as the final pronouncement that there would never be biological children in the picture for them. Julia did not see it the same way. She was stubborn and insistent. She had a plan and was convinced of her own invincibility. Julia rejected Jack's offer to get a vasectomy and, instead, insisted on her commitment to her oral contraceptive. She insisted that in order to maintain hope, they couldn't take any permanent surgical contraception options. Anything was possible. She was a nurse and didn't discount science, but she was also a woman of God.
Her plan was to get pregnant, defy the odds and deal with the consequences in the glowing aftermath of a successful birth. The risks her head understood never took root in her heart. Julia wanted Jack's baby desperately.
As their closest friends sang happy birthday and Jack presented his wife with the vacation he'd been promising to make time for over and over, Julia held out a surprise of her own. It was a sonogram. He wasn't sure what to say. His best friend, sitting closest to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to snap him out of his daze. Jack was full of questions and still present of mind enough not to ask them at the dinner table. Her parents, his best friend, and hers all knew why this news would bring him anything except unadulterated joy.
"Surprised? You should probably say something." Julia was suddenly far less confident in the choice she'd made little over a year ago, the secrecy she maintained over the first trimester weighing on her conscious more heavily.
"A little bit, yes. I mean it's your birthday, so I wasn't expecting a gift for me."
"So, I got you good?" The smile on her face belied the nerves coursing through her.
"Always full of surprises, my gorgeous girl." They left it there at that moment, but many serious conversations were had and every precaution taken. Having come home from a visit with her doctor, where continued bed rest was the only prescription neither Jack nor Julia could have expected, the trip to the hospital later that night, and Jack with no idea he'd return to their brownstone alone. No longer a husband or a father-to-be, but instead, the wearer of a new title, that of the widower. Jackson buried his beautiful wife a month after her thirty-third birthday.
Eleven years later and he'd only moved emotionally forward in baby steps. Sometimes, he felt that, emotionally, he was still standing in the rain at the cemetery in Queens listening to her mother's wails and looking into her father's vacant eyes, each of them burying the brightest and best part of themselves as they watched the dirt being shoveled on the woman they loved scoop by scoop.
Shaking off the heaviness of the past, Jack got in the waiting car that would take him to the airport. He had a good feeling about this trip. Seeing Michael and Brianna was always a good time. He could never see himself doing something like online dating, no matter how exclusive the site, but his friend was madly in love and excited beyond description. The energy Michael and Brianna produced together could power Yankee stadium, and it definitely gave his friend more reasons to smile than not. Mike was happier than Jack had seen him in a long time and that certainly replaced any judgment Jack could place on how he'd gotten that way.
Chapter 7
Keila wasn't quite at a sprint, but she was definitely on Brianna's heels. She couldn't see that her RA had ear buds in. She reached out her arm and pulled on the girl's dance bag before her feet caught up. The abrupt stop and halt nearly resulting in a crash landing.
"Keila, oh my God! I literally just thought I was about to be attacked in broad daylight."
When she saw how totally startled her friend was, Keila worked hard at not completely dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.
"I'm sorry. I did try to get your attention, but you were completely tuned out."
"Actually, I'm tuned in. I'm listening to a lecture I missed in my Poli-Sci class. Luckily, one of the guys in my dance class is in the same one and didn't miss the lecture. I cannot afford another C in that class."
"I can't believe you've ever gotten a C in anything."
"More than one in classes not related to dance or theatre. Alas, the school has other requirements for graduation, so I take Poli-Sci. I figured there would be a few exciting conversations and that I'd be able to write a paper or two and, you know, coast on to an easy B. Who knew I'd have the enthusiastic super professor? Anyway, what's up, because, like it or not, I really need to get back to this lecture. Seriously, one more C and Michael will cut off my allowance. I love my allowance, Keila."
It was hard not to take her at her word when the passion in her voice ran a close second to the passion she had when she spoke of the man, himself.
"Gotcha! Well, I just wanted to see what you were up to this weekend. I mean, you know if you don't have plans with Michael every night."
Brianna was immediately less consumed with her lecture. She left the ear buds dangling as she clutched her friend's arm. Suddenly, she was much more interested in getting her friend to join her for the weekend.
"The better question is what are you doing this weekend? How about spending it with me at Michael's penthouse?"
"Doing what?"
Her bag fell at her feet as she tossed her head to the side with a look of complete indignation. "What do you think we'd be doing? Weird sex rituals? Perhaps initiate you into our wanton web of wickedness?"
Keila dropped her eyes, feeling a bit sillier than she had five seconds earlier.
"I don't know. I'm sorry. Twenty-four hours ago, I thought the man was your dad and found out he was your boyfriend. Not to mention all of the other stuff."
"No judgment, remember?"
"Totally not judging. Just a little uncertain about what a weekend with you guys would entail."
"That's fair. I guess. I'll have you know that a weekend at Michael's place is way less exciting than you might be imagining. Besides, I really want you to come so you can meet his best friend, Jack."
Keila's impression of a gasping fish was mildly entertaining until Bri thought she might pass out from not taking in enough air.
"You're panicking. Why?"
"Is this a date? Like, is he looking to be someone's, you know, daddy? Because, uh, no. Just no! I mean thanks for thinking of me, but uh-uh."
"Well, you don't have to
cringe like the mere thought disgusts you beyond all thinking."
"No, I'm not. Okay, yeah, I am a little. Not disgusting for you, just not for me, you know."
"Relax. I'm messing with you. Jack is great, but he has zero interest in dating anyone. Plus, he's only in town for a week or so, and then he's headed back to New York. He's a widower and was utterly in love with his wife. There hasn't been anyone serious since she died. It's that it'll be more fun if there's someone else my age there. You know the guys are terrific, but we don't always have a lot in common to talk about. Plus, when those two get to talking about business, it makes these political science notes sound riveting. You'll be my buffer."
"What does one do as a buffer?"
"Well, one gets to eat at a few fancy restaurants, one gets to help me whoop the guys at mini golf, and one gets to shop for a new outfit or two, for one thing."
"Has one suddenly hit the lottery? Mini-golf?"
"You don't need to be a lottery winner for what I have in mind. All you need is daddy's credit card, and don't poo-poo mini golf. Whenever Jack is in town, we head over to East Potomac Golf Course. We used to go to the driving range, but they've both given up hope on teaching me to swing properly. Turns out, my technique is perfect for mini-golf, though, so we do that instead now. They're both ridiculously competitive. With you there, we can play as teams instead of individuals."
"So, I'm someone's handicap?"
"Well, that'll depend on how good you play. Handicap or ringer, it's gonna be fun."
She snatched her bag in one hand and Keila in the other, then Brianna headed in the opposite direction from where she was initially going. She figured she would just double up on her study time over the weekend.
"Where are we going? Brianna, I have a class at four o'clock." Her voice was picking up with the speed of her feet as her friend took her who knew where.
Where they ended up was the high-end mall clear across town. Keila wasn't the least bit comfortable with the turn of events. She wasn't exclusively a thrift store shopper, but the old fashion regular mall was still a once a month treat. Her scholarship covered tuition, room, and board. Her work-study job covered limited necessities, and her allowance, she was willing to bet, didn't come close to matching what Brianna was getting from Michael.
"Doesn't this place have a Gap or an Old Navy? I mean, I guess I could spend eighty dollars on one outfit if I don't plan on spending money on anything else this month."
"I told you I'm the only one spending today. If you're so weirded out by it, I'll just keep it all after this weekend. We're practically the same size."
Keila's laugh snort drew some unwanted looks as they approached yet another dressing room.
"You are either nicer than even I thought, or you really need to put more time into your academic classes. Practically the same size. Hilarious."
"I've got a few inches on you. So what. And, sure, you fill out a top better than I do, but that's nothing a good water bra won't solve. Now, stop stalling and try on the damn dress."
"For the record, shopping with you is running a close second to the torture of shopping with my grams."
In the end, Keila left with nearly three hundred dollars' worth of clothes for a weekend. One weekend. Three days, max. She was feeling so out of her league, she hardly felt comfortable even holding the bag. Her friend wouldn't be deterred for a mere cause, though. She wanted to enjoy it, but a big part of her was starting to feel extremely inadequate and out of place before she ever put two feet into this new world.
"I really can't miss class, Brianna. You have to get me back, okay? No more stops." Her tone sounded a lot more put out than it should as a freshman about to miss a late afternoon class.
"What's wrong?" Brianna asked.
"Nothing."
Brianna halted her movement in the middle of the parking lot and refused to move while she stared at Keila.
"Problem?" Keila suddenly wasn't in the mood for any shenanigans and met Bri's stare head-on.
"You tell me. Suddenly, you're acting a little-pissed off."
"Nothing little or sudden about it. You'd know that if you listened. Forget it. It's nothing. I have class, and like you reminded me a few nights ago, I can't put my scholarship in jeopardy."
"Nope. Try again."
"Oh my goodness. We aren't in your room, and you aren't my RA right now, so I don't have to share. I said it's nothing, so leave it alone."
"No. I'm always your RA unless I quit or you move, but I also thought I was your friend. I told you extremely personal details about my life, so the least you can do is tell me why you're so irritated with me, which is all of a sudden, I might add."
"If I'm not good enough the way I am, why did you even invite me to hang out with you all this weekend?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Yeah, I'm just trying to process the words that aren't making any sense. What the hell are you talking about 'not being good enough?'"
"Um, the three hundred plus dollars' worth of clothes I'm currently holding."
"I'm still going to need more words."
"It's not like I'm some destitute waif from the 1930s. I'm sure what's in my closet would have been plenty acceptable for dinner, even in a nice restaurant, and for movies and mini golf. And, really, mini golf?"
Brianna dropped her haughty indignation. She kind of got it suddenly. Being in the sugar bowl had obviously changed her more than she wanted to believe, as realizing her idea of fun may have come across as pushy and judgmental made her humble enough to put her apology before her explanation.
"Truce. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything like that when I wanted to take you shopping. It's just sort of what the arrangement is all about. Buying new outfits to go to fancy places isn't the basis of my relationship with Michael anymore, but it is how we started and it's a huge part of what being a sugar baby is all about. It's icing on the cake if things turn out like they have for me, but even if it doesn't, you have some cash and nice parting gifts."
"That's not making me feel better about this, Brianna. Michael, and certainly not his friend, aren't mine to take from. And spare me your roundabout logic. Your gift to me or not, you keep the clothes or not, we just shopped on someone else's dime without permission."
"Implied consent." Brianna thought she was being funny, but the joke fell flat.
"Nope. What are you doing?"
Brianna pulled her phone out and started dialing, and holding her hand up in the universal stop gesture, Brianna silenced her friend.
"Hi, Daddy."
Keila didn't even try to hide the eye roll. Even Bri's voice sounded manipulative and it wasn't doing anything to make her feel like this weekend was, in fact, a good idea. She could only hear her friend's side but suspected that Michael wasn't any more impressed.
"I haven't done anything. Yes, I put time into political science. Yes, actual studying. You don't need to keep reminding me that it's also an important class."
She supposed listening to part of a classmate's recorded lecture notes counted, but even she could acknowledge it would sound thin to him, so she conveniently left it out.
"I invited Keila to spend the weekend with us. Of course, not as a setup. I know better. Lesson learned. Neither you nor Jack was amused at the suggestion or efforts I made the last time. Both ends of me got your message loud and clear. She's just going to be there to keep me company and hopefully help me beat you two at mini golf."
There was enough truth in the statement to keep Keila's eyes in focus.
"Yes, I know. I'll let you get back to work."
Keila cleared her throat as loud as she could.
"Just so you know, my credit card wasn't stolen or anything. I did a little shopping for this weekend. I know you and Jack love to spring theatre tickets and fancy dinners on me and I wanted to be prepared."
More throat clearing and eye bulging stares.
"I wanted us to be prepared. I treated Keila to a few things, too, s
o this month's bill might be higher than normal. Well, yes, I know that, but she doesn't, and apparently, she wasn't going to enjoy anything unless there was full disclosure. Okay."
Keila started shaking her head and waving her hands furiously in refusal. She was not about to take the phone and have this awkward conversation with a man she barely knew. Only Brianna's hand gestured threat to straight drop the phone onto the concrete made her reach out to grab for it.
When did she develop a stutter? The word hello was caught in her throat like she just learned it, and Brianna's smirking wasn't helping.
"Hello, Mr. Somerville. Sure, of course, I can. Michael. Yes, I understand. I really appreciate it, but it really wasn't necessary. I'm not some hick who's never been anywhere. I'm sure something in my closet would've been appropriate."
Brianna started marching toward the car, and Keila had to quickstep to keep up with the taller girl's long stride. Her mind drifted a bit, when she heard Michael's voice. Keila snapped and gave him her attention more fully.
"I'm sorry. I missed the last thing you said. Oh, I don't think I did, but I'll check. Yes, I will, and thank you again. It's really very generous and, what? Sure, if I did, I'll make it right. Okay. Brianna, he wants you."
All she did was reach her arm behind her, expecting the phone to fall into her hand. Brianna needed a few breaths and to hear his voice before facing her friend again. After saying a quick goodbye, Bri slipped her phone back into her bag and got behind the wheel. Keila stood outside of the car still staring at her friend through the windshield thinking, now what?
Once she tossed the bags onto the backseat and was strapped in, she couldn't hold in her exasperation any longer.
"Okay, what'd I do now? Or say? I don't know him, like, at all, but even your boyfriend was a little annoyed and told me to make things right. First, I kind of need to know what I made wrong. Brianna, you didn't seriously think I could wear all that stuff without knowing that he was all right with it. Come on. I don't know many, but I'm pretty sure even rich people don't like to be taken advantage of by people they just met. Oh my God, seriously what did I say?"
The Daddy Arrangement (Sugar 101) Page 6