She starts putting away the first-aid kit, shutting the mirrored cabinet and then turning back to me. "Listen, your dad turned his back on you years ago, and the only thing he's invested in is his next can of beer. He's wasting away in a trailer park, and you have nothing else holding you back." She steps toward me, and I find myself lowering my gaze to my broken nail. I nervously begin picking at it ... half listening ... half trying to forget everything that happened last night. "You need to leave, Krista. He's never going to stop. I don't care how many times he apologizes; he's never going to stop." She doesn't know that I've been planning to leave. I've told her bits and pieces, but I'm afraid to reveal too much because Jay will come to her when I'm gone, and I don't want him to use his "powers of persuasion" to get the info he needs to find me.
He would beat her senseless if she didn't tell him what he wanted to know, so it's best she doesn't know all the details. Even though it would probably piss her off to know I've been hiding so much from her, it’s my only means of protecting her after I'm gone.
A single tear rolls down my cheek, and I try to avert my gaze from her intense stare, but it's no use. She sees my pain and fear as clearly as if a billboard had my scattered emotions scrolling in bold print for all to bear witness to.
"Oh, Krista ...” She rushes forward and pulls me into her warm embrace. Her arms enfold me in a blanket of love that I'm not accustomed to. At first, I struggle with what to do with my own arms, but eventually, I just give in and hug her back.
My sobs echo through the small bathroom situated at the back of the diner.
She gently pushes me back at arm’s length and eyes me. "I'll tell Tony that you're sick and couldn't make it in. I'll cover your shift tonight. You go and see my cousin and get things rolling." She steps away and rummages through her purse then turns back to face me with a wad of cash in her extended grip.
"No! I can't accept that, Sarah." I shake my head. I scramble to grab my purse and exit the bathroom, but her tight grip on my arm stops me.
"Go straight to my cousin’s house. I'll write down the address for you and let him know you're on your way. Go straight there.” She rips off the corner of the Band-Aid box and jots down the address and then shoves it in my purse. “Jay thinks you're at work, and tonight's poker night with the boys, so he won't think to drive by and check on you." She gently places the money in my hands and clutches her hands over mine. "You have to get out of here. Let me help you."
I look down to her firm hands gripping my weak ones. Sarah is a mountain of strength and perseverance where I'm a weak mound of self-pity and despair. But what if she's right? What if this is my one and only chance to get the hell away from Jay once and for all? I’ve been searching for someone to create a new identity for me, but my resources are very limited, so this is the opportunity I’ve been patiently waiting for. Had I known she had these connections, I would have asked years ago. But I had to be careful, and trusting people isn’t an easy concept for me.
Our eyes clash, and I swallow the fear threatening to overcome me. I've planned for this moment for the past twenty-four months, seven days, and six hours. This is the final piece of the puzzle, and if I pass it up, it may be another year before I'm given the chance to escape again. With that in mind, I decide to trust her. "Okay. I'll do it."
Her smile reaches her eyes. "You won't regret this. I promise."
For the next thirty minutes, she lays out a plan for me to get a fake ID and a means to start a new life. It's as if she had been planning this for months on end, and knowing Sarah, she probably has been.
She tells me a story about a friend of hers who was having trouble supporting her family and decided to become a surrogate to pay off some bills. The couple covered all her medical expenses and paid her a hefty sum for carrying their child. The process was lengthy, but the money she made would be enough to set me up for a couple of years. Even though I’m a little unsure about carrying someone else’s child, the idea holds merit and starts to take root in my mind.
I don't tell her, but her plan is far better than the one I had been working on. I was just trying to hoard enough money away to run away one night after Jay had fallen asleep. The money would get me to California by bus, where I could make ends meet by waitressing and painting on the side to earn extra cash. In a city as big as Los Angeles, I could disappear amongst the crowd. Become invisible to all and especially Jay. He'd never find me there, but Sarah's idea is a little more sound.
It's a lot riskier, but the monetary gain would enable me to go back to school and pay for my divorce while in hiding. I would be able to afford a decent lawyer and legally change my name. It wouldn't just be a start, but a means to a future without him in it.
I would finally be free!
I think about it all the way to her cousin’s house, and the idea solidifies itself with each passing minute. Even though it would feel like I was selling my body, it's better than losing my soul, which is what would happen if I stayed here.
Chapter Three
Will
I can't believe it's come to this, I muse to myself. After everything I've been through, this is what my relationship with Sophia has evolved to. I know this is what she wanted, but in the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if she'd be disappointed. But then I think of the tiny embryos that we created together and all doubt clears from my thoughts. How could I not want the baby waiting for me to take a chance? The child who would give me a piece of Sophia for the rest of my life.
All I want is to cling to the life that brought me so much happiness. Because all I feel now is dead inside.
"This all seems so callous. Scrolling through a book of potential baby carriers is not how I expected to kick things off." I set the book down on the table and sit back on the sofa.
"Kind of like the Hollywood Squares of baby mamas," my sister, Abbi, chimes in. She laughs at her own joke and reaches for the book. As she casually flips through the profiles of potential surrogates, I can't help but feel a little disconnected from the entire process. The idea of placing mine and Sophia's embryo into a complete stranger’s womb is ... well, unsettling.
"I like this one." Abbi leans over and points to a pretty blonde.
Her picture captures my attention right away. The mismatched eyes draw me in. They reflect a soul deep longing, not much unlike my own. As I stare intently down at her picture, my sister rambles on in the background, but I don't hear a word. For some reason that I can't quite explain, or understand, this woman staring back at me from a photograph in my nervous grasp is utterly captivating. Not in a sexual way. It's much deeper than that.
I can't get over the fact that I see so much of myself staring back at me. Her expression is bland, no smile or laughter brimming. She looks as if she's merely existing. At that realization, it dawns on me what it is that I find so alluring about her picture. She looks so lost and alone even with the world going about its business all around her.
"Will?" The hint of amusement in my sister’s voice is gone as my eyes meet hers. "Are you okay?" she whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.
I nod and swallow the lump of rising emotions down. My throat feels tight, and my chest hurts beyond reason. This all so overwhelming. But as I look back down at the picture again, a sense of rightness envelops me. ‘She's the one.’ Sophia's voice invades my chaotic thoughts. I know it's not really her talking to me, but my mind takes a small amount of comfort from the fact that we were so close that I could practically read her thoughts. And as I look down at this lonely looking woman, I know she's the one Sophia would want me to pick.
My gaze flicks from her photograph to her bio, taking in the information with a calculating eye.
Basic Information
Name: Kara Murphy
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 135 lbs.
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Left Eye/Green, Right Eye/Blue
Relationship Status: Single
Ag
e: 27
Pregnancies: None
Blood Type: O Positive
Religious Background: None
Occupation: Art Student
Parents
Mother: Deceased, Cancer
Father: No known health concerns
Health History
Current or Past Medical Conditions: None
Education
Years of High School Completed: 4
Years of College Completed: 2
GPA: 3.7
Educational Goals (If Any): To achieve my Masters in Art Education
Residential Status
State of Residence: North Carolina
Willingness to Relocate: Yes
U. S. Citizen: Yes
Personality
I love art and the creative outlet it provides. I strive to put my best foot forward in all things that I do. I work hard and aspire to teach art to underprivileged children who otherwise wouldn't have the opportunity to explore their creativity. I love reading and listening to relaxing music although folk music holds a special place in my heart. I am eager to help someone achieve their greatest aspiration; parenthood.
"Ah, yes, Ms. Kara Murphy. She has two other potential clients interested in her as well," Margaret chirps proudly.
Abbi looks over at me with a quirked brow. "Well, what do you think? The others are all fine, but I'd rather see you use someone who has no husband at home and children of her own to care for. Professionally speaking, the pregnancy is less likely to stress her body if outside interference is limited." When I give her a blank look, she shrugs. "You need her to live with you so we can keep an eye on her. You don't want her a thousand miles away from you seeing doctors we're not familiar with." She squeezes my knee encouragingly. "This is your one chance. We can't risk a miscarriage or poor healthcare. I want to oversee the pregnancy myself to ensure the baby develops as it should with no hiccups along the way."
I look over the other three profiles we had considered as potentials, but none of them call to me as hers does. She's everything we've requested in a surrogate. The fact that she's not married and is also willing to relocate makes her all the more appealing.
"All right. Ms. Murphy, it is." I slide the profile back across the table to Margaret who is grinning from ear to ear.
"Wonderful!" she exclaims happily. "I'll just need to pull up the contract Ms. Murphy arranged with the agency. We'll go over the financial provisions she has requested as well as the healthcare and agency fees. Then we'll submit your interest form to her, along with the other couples who have expressed interest ...”
I wave a dismissive hand. "My lawyer has already worked out the contract. I don't want competition, so I'm sure the monetary compensation will assure that my interest form is the only one that she'll see." I raise a brow in question. "Agreed?" She nods quickly and begins shuffling paperwork around on her desk. I bend down and pull the manila folder from my briefcase.
Margaret’s grin slowly slides from her now pinched features as she opens the folder and reads over the contract I've had drawn up. "I see."
Abbi clears her throat to stifle a giggle. She knows I wouldn't leave anything to chance with this arrangement.
"Ms. Grant, as I'm sure you are aware, my family is very high profile. This procedure needs to be performed as discreetly as possible. My father is up for reelection in six months’ time, and I will not abide leaks to the media of our arrangement. All matters in terms of legality will go through my attorney. All contracts will be drawn up by my attorney as well. Are we clear?"
Margaret looks from me to the legal documents and then back at me before muttering, "Quite clear."
I didn't want to risk any loophole, so I had my lawyer work up an ironclad contract between myself, the agency, and the surrogate. The contract was drawn up in a way to ensure my family’s privacy was of the utmost importance.
"The compensation clause is on page three. I'm sure you'll find it adequate."
After a few silent moments, Margaret’s face begins to turn a lovely shade of rose red. "Mr. Scott, this is ...” she stutters and tries to regain her composure. "This is an exorbitant amount of money. I assure you the agency contract seeks to provide the surrogate with reasonable compensation while simultaneously avoiding any excessive charges to our clients." She gestures to the document in her hand. "Please don't misunderstand my meaning. This is most generous but also unnecessary."
I lean forward, bracing myself with my forearms over my knees. "As unnecessary as it may seem, this is the contract and the monetary compensation I wish to proceed with. Ms. Murphy is to live at my residence for the duration of her pregnancy. She is to be cared for ...” I look over at my sister with a knowing look. "By my sister, Ms. Abigail Scott-Linsey. Abbi is the best OB/GYN in the state, and I wouldn't trust my unborn child's life under anyone else's care. These terms are nonnegotiable."
I stand and extend a hand to my sister who smirks at me before rising at my side.
"I trust you'll be able to meet the intended deadline as well?" I ask over my shoulder as I approach the large wooden door.
"Yes, Sir. I'll contact Ms. Murphy right away," Margaret responds.
I stand to the side and allow Abbi to exit ahead of me, my gaze falling on Margaret. "I expect you will. Have a good evening, Ms. Grant."
"You as well, Mr. Scott."
Before we can make it to the elevator, Abbi playfully punches me in the shoulder. "You bully. I can't believe you already had that contract drawn up." The elevator doors close, and I push the button for the lobby.
"If I had told you prior to our meeting, you would have been more selective. I needed you to go with your gut and select the one you thought would be the best candidate."
She grunts her agreement and then finally huffs. "I hate it when you're right. But I do think we selected the best one available." The elevator dings as we reach our destination and the doors slide open.
Abbi stops just before we reach the main entrance and turns to me with an excited gleam in her eyes. "I can't believe I'm finally going to be an aunt. Just think, this time next year you'll be a father."
Her excitement is the only reason that I mask the pain filtering through my veins at that exact thought.
Sophia was supposed to deliver my child. We were supposed to take crazy Lamaze classes together, paint the nursery together, buy baby clothes together, but instead––I'm going at it alone. The thought leaves me feeling hollow inside, but I hide my feelings from my elated sister and escort her to my car in the parking garage across the street.
I know it's time to move on with my life, but just because it's the right thing to do doesn't make the sting of heartache any
easier to bear.
Chapter Four
Kara
It’s been six months since the day Sarah planted the seed of hope for my escape. the surrogate agency has arranged everything, and my life is about to take a turn I couldn’t have foreseen. A smile graces my face as I finish packing my bag and exit my bedroom.
As soon as I step foot into the hall, Jay’s snoring is the first thing I hear. I sneak past the couch where he's passed out on. Thanks to the sleeping pills I slipped into his beer, he'll be out well into the next day. It might have been a little excessive to bust up three pills instead of one, but I had to be sure he wouldn't wake up. Everything I've planned has all boiled down to this one moment. This one opportunity to grab my chance at a new beginning.
I swing my bag over my shoulder, glancing over at his sleeping form.
One arm is thrown over the back of the couch, a foot on the floor, the other arm draped over the end of the couch. His mouth is wide open and his snoring causes his bottom lip to quiver as he inhales deeply. His breath comes out on a saw-like snore that rattles deep in his chest.
I look hard at the man who I used to think I loved. But I can't summon an ounce of regret for what I'm about to do. If anything, I'm finding it difficult to contain the excitement that causes my heart to race a
nd my hands to shake as a spike of adrenaline punches through my body.
I turn the corner and open the back door carefully, lightly closing it so as not to draw attention from the neighbors. All the lights have been shut off outside, and the bulb on the electrical pole busted when I threw a rock at it this morning. I want no one to see me leaving.
Like a thief in the night, I slink into the darkness of the midnight shadows. When I reach the neighbor’s yard, I dig into my bag and pull out a packet of meat, tear the plastic back, and throw it over the privacy fence.
The rustling sound of the neighbor’s Rottweiler can be heard as he darts out of his doghouse and begins to devour the treat. He's the only dog on this side of the street, and I couldn't risk him barking as I snuck past their yard.
For the next thirty minutes, I walk through the woods behind my house and finally reach the four-lane highway on the other side.
Just as planned, Sarah's car is waiting at the exit ramp.
I run over and hop into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed. She gives me a strained smile and then quickly pulls out into the slow lane.
"Did anyone see you?" I ask.
"No. Not one car has come down the road the entire time I've been here."
"Good." I glance down to my watch––11:39.
Everyone is packing up to head home from the high school state tournament football game. I had to pick a night when I knew Jay would want to get drunk. He was taking it pretty hard that the quarterback had broken his state record for passing yards in a single season. I don't know why, but Jay took an exceptional amount of pride in being the darling of our small town. The new kid had stolen his glory, and he didn't want to be around to witness his greatness being wiped clean as a new generation had the light shined on him.
A Whisper Of Solace Page 2