by Rye Hart
“This explains the process,” he said. “Once you've decided to go forward with this, we will begin the search for the right surrogate for you. You'll have the option of choosing your surrogate, and you'll meet with them, to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
“How long do you expect that to take?”
“It usually takes a few months to find the perfect fit.”
“A few months? I don't have a few months,” I said. “My dad – well – he has about nine months to a year before he starts declining in health. And, I need to have a child as soon as possible. I want him to be able to see his grandchildren before – well – you know.”
Her eyes narrowed a bit as she studied my face. “Malcolm, we can do our very best to hurry the process along, but I make no guarantees,” she said. “We have to find a surrogate that fits both of our needs – ours and yours. There's usually a waiting list.”
“What if I brought in my own?” I asked. “Somebody who'd volunteered to be a surrogate.”
Lisa pondered the question, then answered, “Yes, that's an option. You may bring in your own surrogate, if you know someone who's willing and able,” she said. “There's a list of requirements for potential surrogates in your folder. However, when we work with new women, we have to run a few tests first, just to make sure everything is on the up and up. There's also a six-week period where we freeze your sperm before implantation to test both you and her for HIV and other diseases.”
My heart dropped into my gut. First, I'd have to find someone willing, and once I had that, then, I had the tests. Six weeks was a long time to wait, I thought. I licked my lips and stared down at my hands, opening the folder to the page outlining the requirements.
Must have had a successful pregnancy already.
Must be under the age of 35, ideally under the age of 30.
No medical issues from a long list of common ailments.
I sighed and stopped reading.
“Malcolm, is everything okay?”
I shook my head. “I don't think this is going to work,” I said. “Is there any way – any way at all – to rush the process along? I have money and I’m willing to pay.”
“Malcolm,” her voice sounded stern, “everyone who walks into my office has money. You're not the first millionaire to set foot in here, nor will you be the last. Unfortunately, the process is the same for everyone. It is designed to keep everyone safe – baby and mother. We wouldn't be able to continue operating if we cut corners. Surely, we'd get sued.”
I understood. It wasn't like anything she'd said was out-of-line. We were talking about creating life here, and I couldn't blame them for having these restrictions and procedures, it just wasn't going to work for me.
I closed the folder and decided to hold onto it to show my mother. Maybe if she knew this wasn't going to work out, she'd talk some sense into my father. It was all I could do, honestly.
“Thank you for your time,” I said, standing up.
Lisa stood up in front of me, reaching out her hand. “My card is included in the paperwork,” she said. “Don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions, Malcolm. I'd be happy to help you, if only there was a way I could.”
“I understand.”
I left Lisa's office as another woman was bringing the younger couple to the back. There was so much hope in their eyes, and they held each other's hands tightly as the three of them walked by me in the hall.
If only my eyes held the same amount of hope.
~ooo000ooo~
“It's impossible,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I looked down at the dining room table, feeling utterly hopeless.
Mom was looking through the folder, reading everything she could. She was looking for any loophole or fine print that might help us find a way around our predicament. So far though, even my incredibly detail-oriented mother couldn't find anything that would help us. At least not with the surrogates. I could see the resignation and frustration in her eyes.
“You told them you were single?”
“I told the truth, yes.”
She pursed her lips together. “Maybe you could tell them that was a mistake.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And what good would that do?”
Mom pushed the folder over to me, her finger directing me to a section in the paperwork that dealt with couples.
“It says here, if you're already together, the testing period is waived,” she said. “Meaning, they wouldn't have to wait six weeks.”
“Great,” I said. “Except I don't have a partner.”
She cleared her throat and I saw a shadowed look in her eyes. I knew the next words coming out of her mouth were words I wasn't going to like.
“You could ask Danielle,” she said, her voice soft and gentle.
Sometimes, I hated being right. Hearing her name again filled me with a dark anger and made me clench my jaw so tight, I was half-afraid I was going to crack a tooth.
“No,” I said simply.
“Come on, Malcolm, it's not like you two have to stay together forever,” she said. “She'd just be your surrogate. And once that was over, you two could go on your merry ways once more. It would be a mutually beneficial relationship.”
“At what cost, mom?” I asked her. “Because you know Danielle wouldn't agree to just being my surrogate. She'd try to weasel her way back into the family for some of the money as well. And as the mother of my child, she would have a solid claim.”
Mom sighed. “It might not be the best option, but it might be the only option, Malcolm,” she said. “You can't let Adam take over the company.”
“What if neither of us give dad a grandchild?” I asked. “Not like Adam has any options that I don't have. Maybe we'll both fail. What happens then?”
“Do you really want to take that chance, Malcolm?”
“It's at least worth talking about it,” I said. “What happens if neither of us give him a grandchild?”
“Only Terrance knows the answer to that one.”
“I'll talk to him,” I said. “Find out what the contingency plan is. And maybe, it'll be worth forgetting this whole thing after all.”
“Do you really want to let your father down, Malcolm?” she asked, her voice holding a hint of melancholy. “This is his dying wish – to have grandchildren. It's not just about who takes control of the company. This is about him wanting something good and pure in his life before he goes. And there is nothing more good and pure than children, sweetheart.”
She had a point, but it was asking for far too much, too fast. I reached across and took her hands in mine, trying to convey that with my eyes.
“I'm merely going to ask the question, Mom,” I said. “In the meantime, I'll be looking for other ways to give Dad his wish.”
Mom nodded her head just as Alba came into the room, carrying two mugs for us. She sat a mug of coffee down in front of me, and another one of tea for my mother. We stayed quiet with someone else in the room, even though Alba had known all our secrets over the years. This one though, seemed too personal. It was something I didn't want to share with anybody or have accidentally get out into the world. Alba flashed me a very maternal smile.
“You look stressed, Malcolm,” she said. “You really shouldn't stress so much. It's bad for you. Bad for your heart.”
“I wish it was that easy, Alba,” I said quietly.
“I know you, Malcolm,” she said. “There's no challenge you can't overcome. Not when your heart is in it. You're much like your father that way.”
“This might be out of my league even,” I said.
“Listen, I know what your father has asked you to do,” she said.
I looked up, shocked, but she smiled gently, patting my cheek like she'd done countless times when I was a little boy. She knew? I couldn't believe it. This didn't seem like something that should have been discussed outside the walls of dad's office.
But, Alba knew. And for that, in a way, I was glad. She'd always been good to
me, acting as a second mother at times, and I hated keeping things from her.
“Women would be lining up to have your child, Malcolm,” Alba said. “Look what you could offer a child – wealth beyond most people's wildest dreams. Who wouldn't want that for their child?”
“And not be involved with the parenting themselves?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “That seems less likely.”
“For the right price, anything is possible,” she said. “Just look around you, you have options. You just need to think of this as a business arrangement. You may need to think, as they say, outside the box a little bit.”
Alba and my mother exchanged a glance and then both of them turn and look at me, serious expressions on their faces. I could see the anticipation in both of their eyes.
“Alba is right, Malcolm. Take love out of the equation,” mom said. “Offer them money. However much it takes. And get Terrance to write up a binding contract that gives them no rights to the child once it's born. You really need to take the emotion out of it. This is a business deal and nothing more.”
Yeah, a business deal that consisted of bringing a brand-new life into this world. That's a pretty big fucking deal. But, I was willing to play this out with them and see where it goes.
“Okay, suppose that all works out and I find someone willing – then what?” I ask. “The clinic requires a six-week waiting period, remember?”
“Who said anything about using a clinic?” Mom shot me an almost sinister smile. “Son, I know it's awkward to talk about with your mother, but I know you understand how babies are made.”
Ah, great. Talking about sex with my mom and Alba. Yeah, that's not completely uncomfortable already. As if my day could get any worse.
“Even if I did – sleep with a woman under this arrangement,” I said. “there are no guarantee she'd get pregnant. Not for a while at least, and we don't have time.”
“There are ways to push the process along, Malcolm,” Mom said, her smile widening.
When it was clear I wasn't getting it, she added, “Crane Enterprises is a pharmaceutical company, and I have connections,” she said, looking at me like I was dense. “I'm sure we could get ahold of fertility drugs. You find a willing woman, I'll handle getting the drugs. Under the table, of course.”
“Is that safe?” I asked.
Mom shrugged. “More than likely, yes,” she said. “Make sure you pick a healthy woman to bear your children, Malcolm, and everything else will be just fine. You'll see, it will all just start falling into place.”
Alba smiled and nodded. She seemed to be in on this. Both my mother and the housekeeper who was like a second mom to me were okay with me finding a random woman and paying to have sex with her. What the hell was happening to my life?
“If I'm being honest, I'm not sure I can do this,” I said.
“What choice do you have, Malcolm?” Mom said. “You know your brother and how conniving he is. If we don't think of something – he will.”
Alba nodded her head in agreement enthusiastically. “This company belongs to you, Malcolm. Not Adam. Not anyone else. You,” she said. “You are the one who's put in all the hard work ever since you were a child. Do not let this man come in and steal it from you.”
They had a point. It gave me a lot to think about, that was for sure. I stared down at my hands and thought it over. Neither woman moved or spoke as I tried to think my way through it all. I mean, it wasn't much different than what I'd considered the other night – with Casey – but I backed out because it felt dirty and because I doubted she'd find the idea very enticing.
Both my mom and Alba seemed to think I was wrong, and well, they certainly knew women better than I did.
“I'll think about it.”
“Don't think about it too long,” Mom said. “The clock is ticking.”
Geez, thanks Mom. Like I needed any more pressure right now.
She was right though; the clock was ticking. If I closed my eyes and strained my ears, I could almost hear the faint tick-tock, echoing like a whisper in the back of my mind.
Time was running short. Very, very short. If I wanted to save my father's company and keep it out of the hands of somebody like Adam, I had to get on the ball. Sooner, rather than later.
CHAPTER SIX
CASEY
Living in Los Angeles is something people all over the world dream about; the beaches, the glitz, the glamour, the lifestyle. All these things were all a lie though.
Sure, some people got to live in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air – well away from the true reality of day to day life in the City of Angels. The wealthy elite got to enjoy their brunches and shopping trips on Rodeo Drive.
Others, like my family though, were scraping and clawing to survive. Given the chance, I would have left town in a heartbeat. But, being born and raised in Southern California – and with my family stuck here – it made the idea of packing up and getting out incredibly hard.
Impossible, actually.
For the present, and the foreseeable future, I was stuck in a small, cramped, shitty two-bedroom apartment in Echo Park. It wasn't exactly the glamorous part of Los Angeles. It definitely wasn't the idealized image of LA people have in their minds. There's no glitz or glam to be found in Echo Park.
But then, not even Hollywood was really what tourists expected it to be. Tinsel Town was dirty, filled with broken dreams, and the wreckage of ruined lives. The homeless and addicted littered the streets, and you didn't want to be caught in Hollywood at night – not unless you knew where you were going and could get there quickly.
Hollywood was where most dreams came to die. Or maybe, I was just being cynical.
My sixteen-year-old sister, Sierra, was at the kitchen table doing homework when I woke up that afternoon. When I glanced at the clock, I knew my fourteen-year-old brother, Nick, was at basketball practice. I always knew where they were and had their schedules down cold.
“How's Mr. Peabody doing? Is he still teaching biology?” I asked Sierra.
I stood there, staring into a empty fridge. Shopping didn't get done, go figure. My stomach growled, and eventually I made some toast. There was no jelly, since we were out. Of course. Margarine was all we had. Great. I sighed and dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster.
“Yeah, he's still a hardass,” she said, taking her headphones off.
She stared back at me with the sweetest, most innocent looking face I'd ever seen on another human being. A lot of people said we looked alike, and maybe we did back when I was her age. Before life started getting to me and piling on the worries. But, I couldn't remember – or even imagine – ever looking as sweet and innocent as my little sister.
“He's a hardass because he cares about you, chica,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Thinks you have what it takes to make something of yourself. I do too, by the way.”
Her hair was the same dark brown, bordering on black, as mine, except, hers was long and straight, where mine was thick and wavy. Unruly at times. I always thought she got the better end of the stick in the hair department.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sierra said, laughing.
My toast popped up and I buttered it, before putting it on a plate and joining my sister at the table. I snacked on my lunch/dinner combo before I had to head into work.
I dug into my pockets and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, all that I had left over after paying the bills. I handed it over to Sierra with a sigh.
“Here, get you and Nick something to eat for dinner,” I said. “A pizza or something.”
Sierra looked at the money, then back at me. She didn't take it and a sorrowful expression crossed her face.
“I hate taking your money, sis.”
“You need to eat.”
“So do you.”
“I'm eating, aren't I?” I held up my toast and gave her a smile I hoped didn't look as fake as it felt. “Besides, I can always grab something at the club. You guys can't.”
“Mom said she's going to the stor
e tomorrow.”
“That's tomorrow. You need dinner tonight,” I said and forced the money into her hand. “Speaking of which, do you know when mom's getting off work?”
Sierra shrugged and went back to her homework, slipping her headphones back into place. Music was her escape, as it had been mine at her age. I stared at my sister for a long time, watching her study. Sierra was smart, and I prayed every single day that she'd get a scholarship and get into a good school or something. Anything to get her out of this shithole and into a better life.
Nick had his athletic ability which could take him places, and Sierra her brains. I wanted to believe that I only had to do this for a few more years. After that, both of them would be adults. Hopefully they'd both be off at college somewhere, and I'd be free. Free to live my own life and do what I wanted to do. The sound of something heavy crashing down came from the other room, followed by the distinctive noise of something breaking and glass shattering. My dad's voice called out for my mother and I felt my heart sink a little lower in my chest.
“Maria?” he bellowed. “Where the hell are you?”
Sierra looked up from her textbook, a look of fear in her eyes.
“Maybe you should go study in your room,” I said quietly, hoping to avoid drawing our father's attention.
She nodded and quickly picked up all of her things before hustling to the bedroom she shared with Nick. Mom and I also shared a room – dad usually slept in the living room. He had apparently just woken up for the day in a foul mood. Not that it was all that surprising. That was his usual mood.
At least I worked all night and missed most of his angry rantings and ravings about this thing or that thing, about whatever injustice he felt was inflicted upon him, or who was trying to screw him over for one reason or another. My dad hadn't worked in years – not since sustaining an injury that left him in constant and chronic pain. Ever since then, he did nothing around the house but bitch and complain and drive all of us crazy.