The Italian

by Beverly Preston

  “Hey, me and my girl—” Hope threw a glance toward the apex of her thighs. “—we have a very tight bond, no pun intended, and it most certainly has a bigger purpose than reproduction.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage to keep it in tip-top shape.” Riley snickered.

  Staring sharply into his espresso eyes glinting with sarcasm, it was easy to see why Faith loved him so much. Riley bore an easy going style and had a knack for turning what could’ve been a heavy situation into a light-hearted yet serious moment. After growing up with their mother’s constant uncontrollable outbursts and dramatics, Riley’s natural way of deescalating any situation had to come as a breath of fresh air for her sister.

  Hope couldn’t stop a crooked grin from wedging upward at the corner of her mouth. “Alright, I’ll give that one to you. It was funny.”

  After signing all the necessary documents, and happily agreeing to part with her first born, Hope raised her glass. “Let the gestational carrying begin. To your new family.”

  “To our new family,” Faith corrected, waterworks pooled near the rim of her lashes. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

  After blood tests, ultrasounds, egg harvesting, and a host of medications, all the stars aligned into the perfect baby-making formation. Doctors had officially taken control of Hope’s uterus and it was primed and ready to receive a fresh embryo.

  “I had no idea we even had follicles on our ovaries,” Hope rambled nervously, squeezing her sister’s hand in a vice grip. Her back, damp from perspiration, stuck to the thin, sterile sheet. Her heart pounded wildly as she stared up at the ceiling, counting the perfectly square white tiles.

  “You okay?” Faith asked, her voice coated in empathy and enthusiasm.

  “Define okay?” she croaked through parched lips. Pulling her gaze from the ceiling, Hope peered into her sister’s sea-green eyes, glistening with wetness. “I know this moment is supposed to be all about you, but this isn’t exactly how I envisioned getting pregnant. Not that I ever really envisioned getting pregnant, that would typically get labeled as one of my worst nightmares, but this is the furthest thing from my wildest dreams.”

  “You’re right, this is supposed to be all about me.”

  “I certainly expected there to be an incredibly gorgeous man involved . . . not that you’re not attractive, doc . . .” Hope lifted her head from the stiff pillow, making brief eye contact with Dr. Ace. His gorgeous smile was hidden behind a mask, but humor creased the edges of his dreamy blue eyes. Returning her attention to the stark ceiling, waiting for the embryo to be implanted into her uterus, Hope continued to babble on like a runaway train, “Not to mention there should be some very heavy breathing involved, and a toe-curling-end-all orgasm that should be blowing my mind right about now. I mean seriously, I feel like I’m getting totally juked. Shouldn’t I be getting some pleasure out of this?”

  Embarrassment colored the brim of Faith’s cheeks. Her eye’s popped wide in a glaring fashion, indicating for Hope to stop the nervous ramble spewing from her lips. But Hope’s filter was lost, completely obliterated by a full-blown panic attack.

  “Doc, you should tack your doctor photo to the ceiling. Something. Anything to give women some sort of gratification while getting impregnated. This seems so impersonal.”

  “You might feel a little pinch,” Dr. Ace warned gently, inserting the syringe tube into her vagina.

  “Oh, great. That’s all I get out of this . . . a little pinch?”

  The good doctor had the nerve to release a throaty chuckle. “All done. One perfect embryo safely implanted. Congratulations.”

  “That’s it? We’re done?

  She could barely hear his words of caution over the thrashing of her erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears.

  “Now we wait. You need to rest for the remainder of the day and allow the embryo to settle into its new home. We’ll do a blood test in two weeks.”

  Reality rushed forward, slamming into Hope like a bowling ball zinging down a freshly polished lane, robbing her of air and rationality. All of the casual dialog, the easy-breezy attitude, the bold assurance she bore over the last month, now shriveled down to a small conclusive whisper, “I’m pregnant?”

  “If the embryo attaches itself firmly to the wall of the uterus, you’ll officially be labeled pregnant.”

  Fingers still entwined, she could feel her sister’s body quaking with emotion. Faith sprang from her seat, leaning over the top of Hope, hugging her as best she could without full access.

  Yanking the mask from her face, Faith gulped in fits of air between showering Hope’s face with kisses. “We . . . we’re gonna have a baby.”

  Tears of fear and uncertainty leaked from Hope’s eyes. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

  THE FOLLOWING TWO WEEKS CRAWLED by at a snail’s pace, driving each sister to the brink of crazy. Feelings of desperation fueled Hope’s anxiety. She needed to know if she was pregnant. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every. Single. Second. She didn’t know how her sister survived all the years of constant waiting.

  They’d spent more time together than they had in a decade. Though the attention bordered on smothering, Hope was beyond thankful for the constant company. Plus, it kept her thoughts from spinning out of control like an F5 tornado tearing up the Midwestern landscape.

  Hope scooped a heaping spoonful of peanut butter onto a platter and shuffled barefoot into the living room. Setting the dish on the glass coffee table, she dipped a thick slice of red apple into the creamy goodness before easing back into her pre-molded comfy spot on the sofa.

  “Have you and Riley discussed whether or not you’re ever going to tell the baby how he or she was conceived?” Hope paused. “Because I better get credit for this. Seriously. This kid better think I’m the coolest aunt ever.”

  “I’m not sure when or how, but we want the baby to know you were our birth mother—”

  Hope drew in a hiss of air, hearing the unsettling term, capturing her sister’s attention. Their gaze linked across the sofa, Faith’s features softened with apology.

  “—I mean surrogate. I’ve always felt compelled to be open and honest about our struggles. They’re too painful for me to keep bottled up. Riley’s brothers at the station, and their wives, all know what we’re going through. Firefighters are one big family unit, so it’s easy to confide in our friends.”

  “So, you plan on telling all your friends?”

  “Of course. It’s not like I can keep it a secret. First off, I’m beyond excited. I’ll be bursting at the seams as soon as we get the bloodwork back. Plus, hopefully in nine months, I’ll be toting a baby on my hip. They don’t magically get left on the doorstep.” Her face contorted, frowning suspiciously. “It’s not like you can hide being pregnant, Hope. You’re going to have to tell people.”

  Hope held up a palm. “Don’t freak me the fuck out right now, Faith. I haven’t even considered if or how I’m going to tell anyone.”

  Blinking repeatedly, Faith asserted, her tone brimming with fact, “People are going to notice that you’re pregnant. You have to be somewhat open about it, Hope.”

  “I just haven’t decided how I’m going to explain it.”

  “Explain it? How ‘bout the rational way . . . you know . . . the truth.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to lie. I just need to figure out the best time to tell my boss. I’m most definitely not mentioning anything until after we get the results back, and I think I can manage to keep it quiet until my trip to Napa.”

  “That’s only a few weeks away. You won’t start showing for at least three or four months, so you could easily push it till after Christmas if you wanted to.”

  “I can’t do any tasting. I won’t be able to hide the fact that I’m not drinking. Wine’s the biggest staple on a sommelier’s menu and there’s no way Samantha is going to let me out of the Napa Holiday Tasting Extravaganza, she needs me too much. I have to address it beforehand. I’ve already used
the flu as an excuse for the days I missed for doctor appointments.”

  “Is she going to freak out when you tell her?”

  Hope propped an elbow on the armrest, cradling her forehead between her thumb and fingers, massaging the oncoming possibility of a migraine at the mere thought of telling her boss. “No, of course not. Samantha is way too collected and conniving to show any visible signs of anger. She’s far more dangerous than that. Her resentment builds, slowly and silently gathering friction, and just when you think you can breathe, she goes for the jugular.”

  Faith shot to an upright position in concern. “You don’t think she’ll fire you, do you? She couldn’t possibly . . .”

  “No, nothing like that. She simply enjoys chastising employees, demoting them to a bottom feeder, until you’ve played nice enough and kissed enough ass, that she deems you worthy again. It’s a game to her, Faith. She reminds me a lot of Mom, only more spit and polish. I simply need to figure out the best way to approach the situation so it seems as if it’s in her best interest. Apparently, I have a knack for handling narcissists. I guess I can thank Mom for that.”

  “She sounds like a nightmare.”

  “It’s a toss-up between Nightmare on Elm Street and The Wizard of Oz . . . Nightmare on the Yellow Brick Road.”

  Monday. Wait.

  Tuesday. Wait.

  Wednesday. Wait.

  Thursday. Wait.

  Friday. Hope waited in her car outside the doctor’s office.

  She’d survived the longest week of her life, but just barely. An upsurge of insecurities and countless questions gathered force, leaving her vulnerable and nervous. On the outside, she appeared calm and unruffled, however, on the inside it felt as if a powerful, well-formed dust devil had taken up occupancy, battering her mind with a field of debris and distractions, leaving her unable to focus on anything but Friday.

  Hope gripped the steering wheel, locked her arms, and molded her back to the tan leather seat. Heat gathered beneath her blouse, the burgundy material clung to her back. Her heart and mind raced, silently counting down the minutes.

  The clock on her dash read 8:12 when she turned the key to her Mazda Miata, cracking the window for fresh air. “Forty-eight more minutes? This waiting is going to kill me,” she groaned, glaring at the vibrant orange numbers. Dropping her hands to her side, she closed her eyes and relaxed her shoulders, pulling a slow, deep breath in and out through her nose.

  Tap tap tap

  Hope jumped in her seat, hearing the rap on the window.

  “What are you doing out here in your car?” Faith questioned.

  “Waiting. Of course,” Hope blurted, her cheeks puffed releasing an agitated huff of air. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep your sanity all these years. Seriously. How the hell do you do it? My hands are sweating, my heart is pounding, I could almost pee myself. The stress of all the waiting is killing me.”

  Faith slipped a loose strand of blonde mane behind her ear, peering over the top of the amber lenses of her sunglasses. “This is just the beginning—” Reaching through the open window, she placed a warm hand on Hope’s shoulder. The hard edge to her jaw and dark shadows beneath her eyes, revealing the stress of a lifetime. “—but the first two weeks, this period of not knowing, is the most agonizing. Or at least they always have been for me.”

  Hope patted the seat beside her. “We still have a half an hour, you wanna come sit in here with me?”

  Faith whipped her head back and forth, opening the car door. “No more waiting. It’s time. Let’s do this.”

  Together they strode, arm in arm, into the doctor’s office. Half an hour later, a nurse led them down the familiar white corridor lined with large framed pictures of Seattle cityscapes. After stopping to donate a sample of urine, she ushered them into a small, private room, taking Hope’s weight, temperature, and blood pressure before assuring that the doctor would be in shortly.

  The silence of the small stale room was all-consuming. Hope and Faith sat side by side in grey arm chairs, each sister’s fingers coiled around the others, forming an unbreakable bond. Nervous energy pinged between their locked hands.

  The sound of the door opening instantly drew their attention. Dr. Ace smiled as he entered the room, his blue eyes accentuated by a pair of well-worn scrubs.

  “Congratulations.”

  “We’re pregnant?” Faith leaped from her chair bringing both of them to their feet. Her nails digging into the tender flesh of Hope’s palm.

  Hope bobbled, her knees weak from shock. Her heartbeat pounded wildly in her chest as if she’d run a marathon; tears needled the back of her eyes. She felt as if she were in a daze watching the scene from outside her body, witnessing the one moment in her life she swore would never happen.

  Seized in her sister’s euphoric embrace, Hope’s upper body wobbled back and forth like a large-headed figurine mounted to the dash of a car.

  “I’m pregnant,” Hope said numbly. Peering over Faith’s shoulder, her gaze drifted to the closed door. In the back of her brain she knew this was what they’d hoped for, but the impulse to run welled up inside her, setting fire to the blood inside her veins.

  Faith released her sister, throwing her arms around Dr. Ace. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much, Dr. Freeman.”

  Energy rapidly drained from her body, making it difficult to remain standing. Hope’s knees buckled and she dropped to the grey chair, firmly gripping the arm rests. A blur of ceil blue moved in front of her. She felt a hand gently clasp her upper arm, as if she were a small child, drawing her focus upward. A pair of warm eyes settled on her face. She heard him say, “After the initial shock wears off . . .”

  “Exactly how long will that take?” Hope took a deep cleansing breath, clearing the fog from her brain. “For the shock to wear off? A day? A week? Nine months?” Sarcasm rolled off her tongue, but she’d never asked a more serious question in her life.

  Dr. Ace concealed his amusement behind another heart-stopping grin. “I’m sure you’ll be fine by the time I see you next month.”

  WHILE MILLIONS OF AMERICANS SPENT the day before Thanksgiving preparing the perfect celebration for family and friends, and avid consumers planned their attack on Black Friday, Hope attempted to relax in the Zen-like atmosphere at the Napa Spa. She spent the morning indulging in a pumpkin spice facial and cranberry pomegranate pedicure, but unfortunately, not even the exquisite holiday rejuvenation package brought harmony to her mind, body and spirit as promised.

  After careful consideration and turning into a complete chicken shit, Hope took Faith’s advice and waited to share the news of her surrogacy with Samantha. Thankfully, November was a magical time of year in wine country. The valley floor sprang to life with vibrant foliage doused in yellows, oranges, and reds, summoning large numbers of photographers and color spotters to the Holiday Tasting Extravaganza, making it easy for Hope to evade her boss, getting lost in separate social circles.

  “Did you tell her?” Faith probed with a grunt. Sounds of exertion filtered through the cell phone.

  “No,” was all she could manage, not wanting to admit she’d lost her nerve somewhere between the two little words I’m and pregnant. “The right time just never presented itself. I’ll wait till we get back to Seattle after Thanksgiving. As long as I tell Samantha before the first of the year, she’ll have plenty of time to amend the travel schedule for the summer months. Why are you breathing so heavy? Riley’s not with you, is he?”

  “Yes, I’m having sex on the pastry counter.” Faith snickered. “Of course not! My employees left half an hour ago and I’m buttoning up a few things at the bakery. The last few days have been crazy. This has been my busiest week since we opened Sugar Pies three years ago.”

  Hearing the pride and happiness spilling over in her little sister’s voice sent a burst of warmth to the apples of her cheeks.

  “We sold out of pumpkin, apple . . .”

  Hope interrupted, “You better have saved me a pec
an pie.”

  “Do you really think I’d forget to bring your favorite?”

  Joyous sounds of pie-appreciation hummed in her throat. Glancing down, Hope noticed her hand turning a slow circle over her midriff. It was the third time she’d caught herself caressing her stomach. She quickly dropped her hand and plopped onto the luxurious cream-colored chair nestled beside the window in the corner of her well-appointed suite.

  They’d always shared a close bond, but from the moment they learned she was pregnant, Hope felt a deep attachment to her sister. Overwhelmed by the profound need to feel secure was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. All their lives, Hope played the role of protector, but the pregnancy hurled her into scary, uncharted territory. She quickly found herself gravitating toward the safe haven of her sister to keep her grounded.

  For the first time in twenty years, Hope felt completely out of her comfort zone, leaving the door wide open to her least favorite emotion . . . vulnerability.

  A heavy sigh pushed from her lips. “God, I can’t wait for you guys to get here.”

  “Me too. I’ve got about an hour’s worth of work left before Riley picks me up for the airport. By the time we land and make the drive from the airport to Napa, it’ll probably be late. Do you want us to come by your room after we check in or do you just want to meet for breakfast?”

  “Let’s plan on breakfast,” she confessed regrettably. “After dinner, I intend to climb into the gorgeous pedestal bathtub that overlooks the hillside, and then I’m going to curl up beside the fire and read some legendary book that’s supposed to tell me what to expect when I’m expecting. Somehow it mysteriously got delivered to my mailbox.”

  Squeals of satisfaction rang in Hope’s ear.

  “Yay! I’m glad it got delivered before the long weekend.” Faith paused. “Hope?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for reading it. I truly appreciate the fact that you’re taking this seriously.”

  “Well, it better include a chapter on what to do if I feel like I’m dying during delivery because that seems to be what’s scaring the shit out of me at the moment. My nightmares are getting ridiculous.”