A Whisper Of Solace

by K. J. Coakley

  "Are you comfortable? I can turn the heat up if you'd like?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the road.

  "No, thank you. I'm fine."

  For the next ten minutes, we ride in complete silence. I try to focus on the sights as we make our way to the other side of the city, but my eyes continue to gravitate toward Mr. Scott. I've never seen a man dressed so impeccably. His expensive smelling cologne drifts my way whenever he shifts in his seat. It's a masculine scent, but a tad provocative as well.

  I like it. I like it a lot.

  No one dresses like he's dressed where I come from. Most of the guys in my town wear camouflage and coats are never meant to be fashionable, just warm.

  He notices me staring, and I quickly avert my gaze to the window and buildings passing by.

  "So tell me, aside from trying to pay for your education, what made you decide to become a surrogate?" His deep baritone causes me to jerk to attention. My eyes flash to him quickly, but he's still focused on the road and doesn't acknowledge my jumpiness. I turn back to the window, my mind racing to come up with a response.

  It's a simple enough question, but also one that I am completely unprepared to answer. My lips purse as I try to work through the correct way to respond.

  "Don't overthink it. The truth is always the best option."

  My gaze jerks back to him, expecting to find his eyes on me, but he's still watching the road.

  "Um ... truthfully, I just needed a means to escape my old life. I wanted a fresh start and an education seemed like the right place to begin." I answer with as much of the truth as I'm willing to offer to him. After all, he's still a complete stranger to me.

  "Your profile said that you had completed two years of college. Did you drop out, or cut back on classes to work, or was it something else entirely?"

  ‘Definitely something else entirely ... as in, my husband was a jealous asshole and refused to allow me to attend after he accused me of cheating on him with a professor.’ The memory of that night flashes through my mind, and before I can think to hide my reaction, I visibly cringe.

  "I see," he says, his eyes momentarily focused on me before returning to the road. That's all he says, but those two words carry a heavily weighted implication in their meaning.

  I fidget, my nerves getting the best of me. "I just needed the means to afford college, that's all." My response is lame at best and defensive at worst, but it's all I have to offer at this time. I can't divulge my rocky past or else he might decide to inject his baby into another willing host, and frankly, I've already spent the deposit paying off my debts. My next check comes after the successful implantation of the embryo, which I'm hoping is today.

  Nine months ... I tell myself. That's all I have to pull off this charade for ... nine months.

  "I have one simple rule that you are to follow throughout the duration of this arrangement." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before continuing. "Always ... always. Be honest with me."

  My eyes widen at his words, and I gulp. I don't know if it's a threat or a request. But for now, I'll take it as a deal breaker. That alone nearly pushes me over the edge. My hands begin to shake, and I find myself shifting in my seat nervously. This man exudes power and a great deal of intent to wield it without remorse.

  We pull into the parking garage, and he turns the vehicle off. I can feel his eyes staring a hole into me so I turn to face him, albeit reluctantly. I can't force myself to make eye contact though, so I stare at his tie and his Adams Apple as he begins to speak.

  "Ms. Murphy, I want you to understand that I take this arrangement very seriously. My wife was the love of my life and this child that I'm about to entrust you with was the epicenter of her existence. I am doing this to honor her memory and to keep a promise we made to each other on our wedding night. I will always maintain a brutal honesty with you throughout your time spent in my household. I expect the same in return."

  I raise my eyes to his and find myself staring into eyes as sharp as a razor. Furrowed brows and a tightly narrowed gaze cause my eyes to flick back to his tie. It's as if he's reprimanding me for future wrongs, and it leaves an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  He can't know. He can't possibly know and still allow this to continue. I mentally give myself a pep talk. Mr. Scott has no idea that I'm running from a life I have no desire to share with him. I am who I present myself to be. I have to keep my shit together or risk ruining the only chance I have at affording a new life for myself.

  I steel myself and raise my eyes back to his. "Yes, sir. I understand completely." My voice is a little raspy as my throat seems to shrivel in on itself. My tongue feels thick and my words completely foreign as they pass over my lips.

  He eyes me for an intense moment before giving an accepting nod.

  Before I can think any more on it, he's at my door and escorting me into the clinic.

  Chapter Seven

  Will

  By the way she kept white knuckling the armrest, I could tell she was nervous. And it wasn't just my driving that caused her discomfort. It was my questions and my demands of honesty between the two of us. Maybe I crossed a line that I wasn't supposed to cross, but I had to know what drove her to put her womb out for hire. From the looks of her, she's working middle class. Probably struggling to make ends meet and this was the easiest way to solve her financial crisis. My only concern with that scenario is if there is a boyfriend waiting for her to send the funds back home to. Once the embryo is implanted, she could essentially kidnap my unborn child and run away with the deposit and any other funds fronted to her during her pregnancy. That's a very legitimate concern, and in my opinion, a valid excuse to further interrogate her about her past and her current motives.

  While I don't doubt she intends to use some of the money for her education, not even Ivy League universities cost what I'm paying her to carry my child. If she's smart, she'll invest the money and be set well into her late thirties. If she invests well, maybe even longer. But I won't be divulging the final cut until my baby is in my arms and she is well on her way back to North Carolina. No need to entice her into making a bad decision. The carrot at the end of the stick is sufficient enough ... for now.

  "I understand that this may all seem a bit formal, and in an effort to maintain total transparency, formality was my intention. I would like personal feelings to be set aside and this treated as a business transaction." Her startled gasp draws my attention, and the look of shock on her face has me feeling somewhat guilty for my harsh explanation.

  I reach to loosen a button behind my tie. I don't mean to be such an ass, but I want to make sure my expectations are clear. There can be no blurred lines between the two of us. I open my mouth to explain myself, but she cuts me off with a raised hand.

  "Don't." She shakes her head. "The more you talk, the more you make me question whether I'm doing the right thing." At my perplexed expression, she continues. "I need to know that having this child for you is the right thing to do. If you keep talking and berating me like I'm some stupid backwoods hick, I'm going to think that you don't deserve the gift that I'm going to give you. I don't want that, and I know you don't either. So let's be civil and keep this strictly business. I won't take offense to your cold remarks so long as you keep them to a minimum."

  My mouth opens ... and closes ... and opens again, but no words come out. I look like a fish out of water gasping to breathe.

  She reaches over and places her warm hand over mine. "I want to like you as a person, Mr. Scott. Please don't make it hard to do so." With that, we exit the elevator and she strides to the magazine rack in the waiting room and takes the seat in the corner of the room.

  My eyes narrow in her direction, but she doesn't give me a second glance. I check us in and take a seat as far from her as possible. If it's distance she wants, then I'll gladly oblige. I pull my phone from my jacket and text my sister to let her know we're at the clinic. Maybe things will be more relaxed between us once Abbi a
rrives.

  I look up from my phone to find her giving me a narrow-eyed glare.

  Then again, maybe not.

  Chapter Eight

  Kara

  It doesn't take long for the nurse to come out to the waiting room and call my name. When I go to pass him, Mr. Scott quickly sets his magazine down and gestures for me to go in ahead of him.

  "You're coming?" I ask, casting him a glance over my shoulder.

  "Of course, I'm coming. This is my child we're about to implant into your uterus."

  I stop and shoot him a look. "Again ... you're making it difficult, Mr. Scott." Before he can say anything, I turn around and walk off.

  He huffs and quickly follows behind me.

  After the nurse leads us to the ultrasound room where the procedure will be performed, I'm led to a curtained off area to change into a hospital gown. "Have you used the bathroom this morning?" the nurse asks as I exit the changing area.

  "No, ma'am. The doctor said I was to have a full bladder to make the ultrasound easier to see."

  She smiles at me. "Good job. The doctor will be here in a few minutes to perform the embryo transfer. Do you have any questions regarding the procedure?"

  I shake my head. "No, ma'am. He explained everything to me already, and I've researched it online until I'm fairly certain I'll be able to give him pointers." She laughs and pats me on the shoulder.

  "I'll be assisting him today. You're in good hands; Dr. Carter is the best there is."

  After she leaves, I'm left to sit in the room alone with Mr. Scott. I don't know how to strike up a conversation with him, so I opt for silence instead.

  "There will be one embryo implanted. Has he explained this to you?"

  I turn to Mr. Scott and give a nod.

  Silence lingers for several minutes until he finally drops his head to hands, his fingers rubbing circles over his temples, forearms braced against his knees as he stares down at the floor. Something about his posture and the way his body is coiled so tightly makes me want to console him. My hand reaches over, but before I can touch him, he starts talking, and I jerk my hand back before he notices.

  "Sophia had fertility issues so there were only three viable embryos at the time of her death. If this one is unsuccessful, the other two embryos will be implanted simultaneously. This would increase the likelihood of a successful implant and resulting pregnancy."

  I look into his eyes and it's then that I see the depth of emotion swirling in them that I first noticed in his photo. He appears to have it together on the surface, but underneath it all ... he's terrified and unsure of himself. I'm sure that in his profession he isn’t familiar with these types of insecurities. Lucky for him, insecurities are what I'm used to and dealing with them is an art that I have perfected.

  "Mr. Scott ...” He looks over at me from his seat a few feet away. "One will take. I'm fertile Myrtle. One of them will take." I assure him as best I can, cracking a smile.

  He gives a strained smile, but it's a smile nonetheless.

  He sighs and straightens back up in his seat. "You're right. One will take."

  The doctor chooses that moment to enter. He's already met Mr. Scott prior to my arrival, and I've been seeing him for the past four weeks, so there are no long introductions. Dr. Carter gets right to work.

  The nurse helps get me into position—my feet in the stirrups and my butt scooted down to the edge of the table. I'm covered with a paper blanket, and Mr. Scott is sitting to my left just beside my shoulder so he can't actually see any of my girly bits.

  "I'm going to insert the speculum and then rinse out your cervix prior to inserting the catheter." I look down at the doctor as he warms the speculum with his gloved hands prior to insertion. So far, it feels like I'm having a pap smear. Nothing too uncomfortable and no pain.

  "You'll feel a little bit of fluid leaking during and after the procedure. Don't worry; it's not the embryo coming back out. They're inserted in a fluid to help ease them into your uterus." The doctor shuffles around, and I feel a tiny bit of liquid running out from the rinsing, but nothing any more awkward than he's explained. "All right. Are you ready?"

  "Yes." I look over at Mr. Scott, and he nods to the doctor as well.

  The door opens and a woman enters with a pink tube that she hands off to the doctor. He takes the tube and sets it down on a sterile tray and then proceeds to insert the catheter.

  I feel like I'm going to pee on myself as the nurse assists him with the ultrasound to ensure the catheter is positioned correctly. She presses down on my stomach to get a better angle with the ultrasound, and I nearly lose control of my bladder.

  "Oh, god. I really need to pee."

  The nurse and Dr. Carter both laugh but continue with the procedure.

  All in all, it takes less than twenty minutes. The embryo is implanted via the catheter, and the doctor removes the speculum and helps to push me back and then they situate a pillow under my bottom.

  "You did great. You'll need to lie back for the next twenty minutes and then you can go home. You'll be on bedrest with limited activity for the next three days."

  "Okay."

  "Thank you for everything, Dr. Carter," Mr. Scott says as he stands to shake the doctor’s hand.

  They chat for a minute using words and medical terms that I'm unfamiliar with, but I eventually just tune them out and take a small nap. I didn't sleep well last night, worrying about this procedure, and it doesn't take me long to nod off.

  "Ms. Murphy?" I wake to the sound of Mr. Scott calling my name. When I move to scoot up into a sitting position, he shuffles around to help me.

  "The nurse came in a little bit ago to let us know that we could leave, but you were sleeping so soundly that I asked to remain here for a little while longer."

  I rub my eyes and yawn wide. "How long did I sleep for?"

  He smirks. "An hour."

  My eyes widen in embarrassment.

  "Don't worry, you didn't snore ... loud." He grabs his coat from the chair and offers to help me up from the table.

  "I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep that long," I call out to him from behind the curtain as I change back into my clothes.

  "No worries. I was able to catch up on my emails while you napped. It was a productive hour for me."

  I snarl, grateful for the curtain hiding my sour expression. I'm so glad my nap didn't hinder your ability to work, Mr. Stuck-up.

  By the time I step around the curtain, I've painted on a fake smile and take my coat from his arm and then exit the room. He follows close behind but continues to glance down at his phone the entire ride down in the elevator and the walk to his car.

  Chapter Nine

  Will

  Watching the procedure was more difficult than I thought it would be. The hardest part ... knowing that Sophia would have been ecstatic, but I can't allow myself to succumb to the joy that I want to feel. Mostly because it's simply not there.

  I wanted to watch the ultrasound monitor and feel that rush of adrenaline as I saw the embryo being implanted in her uterus. But I couldn't even bring myself to watch. I was there ... but I wasn't.

  Instead, I was with my wife three years ago when we first began our journey to harvest her eggs. She was beyond excited when they told us the success rate was high, given the fact that neither one of us had a history of birth defects or genetic abnormalities.

  But this wasn't my wife. This was a stranger I hired to carry my child. A child that I'm to raise on my own in honor of my wife.

  What in the hell am I doing? I don't know the first thing about raising a child. Sure, I have three nieces, but when they're sick or out of control, I send them back to their mom. Who am I going to hand my own child to when things reach a point where I'm questioning my own sanity? It'll happen. I've seen my sister on the verge of a serious mental breakdown—although a bottle of wine seems to solve most of her problems. I doubt that will resolve any of my problems when I'm neck-deep in soiled diapers and di
rty onesies.

  The whole drive home I don't say a word to Ms. Murphy. I know she probably needs words of reassurance, but I can't bring myself to utter nice falsities for the sake of making her feel better. Honesty is a religion of mine. Where there's lies and deceit, there's contempt and malicious intent. I demand honesty in all things––friendships, relationships, work, and especially from those I love, which is a respectfully short list.

  My eyes cut over to her as we hit the underpass and make our way to the suburbs. I thought it would be best to have Ms. Murphy stay at the main house while my primary residence will continue to be the apartment in the city. I've tried staying in the house, but it usually brings back a ton of memories, and before I know it, I'm gunning my Mercedes back into the city as if the hounds of hell were on my tail.

  "I thought you had a high-rise apartment in the city?" she asks.

  My brows furrow in deep thought. "Who told you that?" I ask, my tone a little sharper than I intended.

  From the corner of my eye, I see her shrug her shoulders. "Your sister. She mentioned it when she called me this morning to wish me luck."

  "Abigail called you?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Nothing. It's just that I'm surprised she did. That's all. She was supposed to be there for the procedure but had an emergency C-section that she had to perform."

  I try to casually brush aside the fact that my sister didn't tell me she called Kara, but deep down, I'm puzzled as to why Abbi is trying to reach out and befriend this woman. She needs to keep it on a professional level. The more attached she becomes, the more likely she is to try to find a way to stick around after the baby is born. We need a clean break after the birth. No ties. No friendships.

  Just. Her. Gone.