Sister Surrogate

by LaChelle Weaver

  A few minutes later, Nick emerged from their master bathroom. He was naked and still damp with beads of moisture from his shower. Bridgette looked up from her magazine, her eyes following his milk chocolate, athletic frame as he strolled the distance to their large, walk-in closet. After ten years of marriage, seeing her husband nude still elevated her body temperature.

  Nick had been a champion swimmer all through high school, which earned him a full athletic scholarship at North Carolina State University where they’d met over two decades ago as freshmen. Now a high school swim coach, he tried to be a role model for his students in taking care of his body and staying active, working out at least three times a week and for the most part, watching what he ate. At forty years old, his body hadn’t changed much. Bridgette wished she could say the same about hers, but the twins could be blamed for that.

  When Nick returned from the closet wearing a pair of boxers and settled in next to her in bed with the remote control in his hand, no doubt to turn to ESPN to look at sports highlights, Bridgette decided that she wasn’t going to waste any more time and while she still had the nerve, she’d get straight to it before he got too comfortable.

  “Honey, I’d like to talk to you about something,” Bridgette said, staring at Nick’s profile. His attention was focused on the large flat screen TV and the two sportscasters talking.

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, I’d like to help Savannah and Julius with something, but I want to see what you think about it.”

  “Okay? What’s that?”

  Bridgette could hear the tone of his voice change slightly with uncertainty about what she was going to say, and she took a deep breath.

  “I’m hoping you’ll keep an open mind about it.”

  That comment gave her his full attention because now he was peering at her. Bridgette averted her eyes toward the TV.

  “Bridgette? What’s going on?” Nick asked.

  Bridgette heard impatience in his voice. “I offered Savannah a solution to having a baby. Nick, she deserves it. So does Julius,” Bridgette declared, her voice going up an octave. She hadn’t even told him what it was yet, but she already felt the need to defend herself.

  Nick remained silent, but she could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say next, so she braced herself for his reaction.

  “I offered to carry a baby for her,” Bridgette said. “I want to be her surrogate.”

  His response was slow because she assumed he was trying to process what she’d just said.

  “You’re kidding? Right?” Nick replied dryly. His voice was devoid of emotion.

  “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

  Nick stared at her like she’d grown an extra eye in the middle of her forehead. “Are you having a moment of temporary insanity, woman?” he asked her with seriousness. “Because I know good and doggone well you ain’t saying what I think you are.”

  “You heard me right, Nick. I want to carry a baby for my sister. But most importantly, I want your support.”

  Nick guffawed and Bridgette glared at him. There was nothing funny about this topic at all, so she didn’t appreciate him laughing about it, even if he was being facetious.

  “Bridgette, have you lost your mind? There’s no way in the history of life that I would ever co-sign on something so foolish. You’ve been watching too much Lifetime,” he retorted, shaking his head as if what she’d said was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard and refocusing his attention on the TV, making Bridgette feel as if he was dismissing her.

  “Nick, I want to do it. I’m going to do it,” Bridgette countered with finality.

  He looked back at her with a deep frown on his face. “I’ve let you pretty much run things how you want to in this marriage without much interference and against my better judgment at times, but I’m still the man of this house and as long as I am, you won’t be doing this. I forbid it.”

  Now, it was Bridgette’s turn to frown.

  “Nicholas Langston Harper, you can’t forbid me to do anything. We’re not in the Fifties.”

  “If it affects the welfare of this family, I most certainly will. Have you even thought about those boys sleeping down the hall? What do you plan on telling them when you’re walking around here with a swollen belly they think has their brother or sister inside of it, but in actuality it’s their cousin? It’s ludicrous, Bridgette. There’s no other way of putting it.”

  Nick shook his head like the thought of it all disgusted him.

  “If we explain to them the situation, they’ll understand it, Nick. They’re smart young men for their age,” Bridgette argued.

  “They’re eight. Nowhere near men,” Nick countered. “And speaking of age, you’re no spring chicken yourself.”

  “Meaning?” Bridgette asked, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

  “I’m not a doctor or anything, but I know you’re much older than you were when you were pregnant with the boys. It could be dangerous.”

  “Forty is hardly old. Women my age and older have babies everyday. And yes, there are some risks for women after a certain age, but that’s with any pregnancy.”

  “But why would you even chance it, Bridgette? Now, I know that you love your sister. I do too. And I’m sympathetic to what her and Julius are going through. I truly am. But, you have to think about our family.”

  “I am. We’re all family, Nick. We should all be able to help each other if we can.”

  “Within reason. And this, my dear, isn’t reasonable at all. Have you thought about the what ifs? God forbid it, but what if something happens to Savannah as a result of the cancer and then we’re stuck with another child that we both agreed a long time ago that we weren’t going to have.”

  “I didn’t agree on anything. I just went along with what you wanted. But, I’ve always wanted more children,” Bridgette said, now, fighting back tears.

  This conversation was becoming far more emotionally draining than she had anticipated, and she was ready to end it. She’d made up her mind, and she wasn’t going to change it. Nick would just have to understand because it was her body and she had a right to make decisions regarding it. And plus, she’d already told Savannah she was going to do it, and she certainly wasn’t going to renege on that and risk sending her sister back into a depression.

  “Well, that’s certainly news to me, but that’s neither here nor there. I think I’ve made my stance on this whole surrogate tomfoolery quite clear, so I’m done talking about it,” Nick declared, looking back at the TV and dismissing Bridgette a second time. But, it was one time too many for her.

  Bridgette swung her legs to the side of the bed and planted her bare feet on the cool hardwood floor below her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “This tomfool is going to sleep in the guest room,” Bridgette announced, her back facing him as she stood. She snatched her magazine from the bed and her iPhone off the nightstand so she could set her alarm on it to get up in the morning since she wouldn’t be using the alarm clock in their bedroom. It would be the first time in ten years of them being married that they slept apart while being in the same house. But as the saying went, there’s a first time for everything.

  “Well, if that’s what you feel like you have to do. But while you’re in there, I suggest you think more about how your decisions are going to affect us all. I know you have a problem doing that, but make sure you really think about all of the risks.”

  Bridgette didn’t bother to look at him or respond as she marched out of their bedroom, but his last sentence made her uneasy and she wondered what he really wanted to say. Was he threatening to leave her if she went through with this? He would never do that. Would he?

  Chapter Fifteen

  “P

  ut me down,” Ivy demanded through her laughter. Kean had her lifted over his shoulder with her rear end in the air.

  “Not until you call me
Big Papa,” said Kean.

  “I ain’t calling you Big anything. Now, put me down. I got to pee from all that wine I drank.”

  “Well, you better get to talking then,” said Kean, smacking her on the buttocks.

  “I’m serious, Kean. I really have to go, so I suggest you put me down or I won’t be responsible if there’s an accident right on this nice, expensive shirt you’re wearing,” Ivy warned, her laughter turning into giggles. She did have one too many glasses of merlot during dinner.

  Kean surrendered and gently placed Ivy on her feet. He slapped her on the behind a second time as she raced out of the living room. His laughter filled her ears.

  “Hurry up so you can give me my foot massage,” Kean called after her.

  “Boy, bye. I’m not touching your rusty feet with my freshly manicured hands,” Ivy yelled over her shoulder.

  “That was the deal. You can’t renege,” Kean yelled back.

  Minutes later, Ivy returned to the living room and joined Kean on the couch, stretching her legs across his lap. She wiggled her cotton candy-pink colored toes.

  “My feet could use massaging, though,” Ivy said with a sheepish grin. She leaned back on the arm of the sofa to get more comfortable.

  “Not until I get mine first. A deal is a deal,” said Kean as he turned his body to hers, stretching his long and lean legs across hers. He had a wide grin spread across his face.

  Ivy always thought his best feature was his teeth other than his dark chocolate complexion, which she likened to Godiva chocolate, another indulgence of hers other than red wine. Kean had the pearliest, whitest teeth Ivy had ever seen on a man, which reminded her of Tic Tac candy mints. She thought he favored another famous athlete and her favorite quarterback of all-time, Michael Vick, except Kean was much taller.

  “You lost fair and square, babes, so it’s time to pay the piper,” he added. Ivy rolled her eyes playfully. She’d lost in a game of Monopoly.

  “Everything is a competition with you. Isn’t it?” Ivy replied.

  “I’m a natural bred athlete so I get it honest. Now, get to rubbing. I ain’t got all night.”

  Ivy grabbed an accent pillow from behind her and threw it at him. He dodged it with his forearm and laughed, pulling her into him and tickling her. Ivy’s laughter filled the room as she wiggled to get out of his reach.

  “Stop it, Kean. I’ll give you your massage,” Ivy conceded.

  “That’s what I thought,” he retorted.

  A few minutes later, Kean rested his head back on the arm of the sofa with his eyes closed as Ivy kneaded the soles of his feet with her fingers.

  “Girl, you got skills,” he said. “Now, if I could get you to use those skills in the kitchen.”

  Ivy sucked her teeth.

  “Says the man with the personal chef.”

  He chuckled. “I still need a woman to cook for me sometimes and a frozen Stouffer’s lasagna in the oven ain’t it,” Kean joked.

  “Well, I didn’t hear you complaining when you were wolfing it down,” Ivy responded and Kean laughed.

  “I have to admit that I was a little surprised by your invitation to dinner. I thought you enjoyed being wined and dined.”

  “Of course. It’s a nice thing every now and then, but I’d much rather be in the comfort of my own home. I don’t get to enjoy it often,” said Ivy.

  “I get it. It’s hard being away from your loved ones and having to travel so much. That’s why any chance I get, I make it a point to come home and spend time with them, especially with my baby girl. She’s growing up so fast and I’m afraid that I’ll miss something.”

  “You sound like a different person when you talk about her. You light up. Reminds me of my dad. He loved his daughters like no other.” Ivy smiled at the thought of her father and sisters, but she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. She missed them all, especially her sisters. It almost felt like they were estranged and Ivy didn’t like that feeling. Bridgette still hadn’t returned her any of her messages from the day before, so either she was busy or ignoring her and she was leaning toward the latter, and that hurt her feelings.

  “Most definitely. Marley is my world. I can honestly say she changed me for the better. Now, don’t get it twisted. I’m still a work in progress, but I tend to think things through instead of acting on impulse.”

  Ivy smiled in response. She was glad that he was comfortable enough around her to show that side of himself. It was refreshing.

  Kean hadn’t had the best reputation when they’d first met, but Ivy had always been one to form her own opinions about people, and so far, he hadn’t lived up to that bad boy, womanizer image that preceded him and was synonymous with male athletes. And she’d dated a few.

  “Sounds like a special little girl,” Ivy said.

  “She definitely is. She reminds me a lot of you,” he said. His light brown eyes bore into hers.

  “How so?” Ivy queried.

  “Stubborn,” Kean replied with a smirk.

  Ivy rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she retorted, pushing his long limbs from atop of hers.

  “Hold up. You didn’t massage my other foot.” He laughed.

  She picked up another pillow and tossed it at him, hitting him in the face. His laughter was infectious and Ivy laughed along with him. She really enjoyed his company and he seemed to feel the same. He was a nice distraction from her thoughts about her sisters.

  “I’d really like you to meet Marley, Ivy. I think y’all would hit it off,” Kean said.

  Ivy didn’t know about that one. She didn’t actually consider herself to be kid-friendly. Now, she loved her nephews, Dylan and Ryan without question, but she didn’t have to interact with them on a daily basis either.

  “We’ll see,” was all she said. She was uncomfortable with the topic of meeting his daughter, and she wanted to talk about something else. It was still fairly early, but the three glasses of wine she’d consumed at dinner were starting to catch up to her. Plus, she was still a bit jet lagged. But, if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t ready for their evening together to end just yet.

  “You feel like watching a movie?” she asked. “It’s Monday night, so there’s not much on TV. Well, unless you’re into watching ratchet TV like Love and Hip Hop?”

  “Nah. I’m good on that. We can do a movie, though. As long as it ain’t one of those male-bashing, Tyler Perry movies I’m cool with whatever you want to watch,” said Kean, chuckling.

  She laughed. “Hater. I love his movies, but I’m biased. My first big gig was on the set of Why Did I Get Married? I did Jill Scott’s make-up.”

  “Jilly from Philly. That’s my girl. I’ve met her at a few events in Philadelphia. I’m a big fan of her music. Her acting, not so much,” said Kean.

  Ivy chuckled, shaking her head. “I love her new album. It’s on heavy rotation. I play it daily.”

  “It is hot. I love that Track Fifteen. Jah-something other,” said Kean.

  “Jah-ray-me-co-fas-ola,” Ivy sang. “That’s my favorite too,” she exclaimed.

  “Wow, you have a beautiful voice,” he complimented, causing Ivy to blush.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Seems like you might’ve chosen the wrong profession.”

  Ivy shook her head.

  “This voice is strictly for singing in the shower.” They both laughed.

  “I beg to differ. I hope I can hear more of it. I enjoyed it,” he said, gazing at her.

  She didn’t know if it was the effects of the wine or being in such close proximity to him, but she was feeling warm. Their chemistry was almost explosive. Ivy hadn’t wanted to complicate things with sex because they were still in that friend zone, even though they’d shared kisses so intimate they might as well had. She knew he wasn’t lacking in the sex department. He was a single, handsome, wealthy, professional athlete, and she’d be a fool to think he wasn’t getting any, but he wasn’t getting any of her goodies. Well, at least not yet anyway, which is
why she needed to break the distance between them. If only momentarily.

  Ivy stood to grab the remote to her Apple TV and pulled up the queue of movies she’d downloaded, but hadn’t had a chance to watch. The first movie on the list was Addicted, the popular book by author Zane that had been turned into a movie, featuring actress Sharon Leal who she’d also worked with on the set of Why Did I Get Married? and actor Boris Kodjoe. Ivy had been anticipating watching it, but she’d seen how steamy it was from the previews, and the lustful feelings she was having for Kean in that moment, there was no way she was going to watch that movie with him. So, she scrolled on to the next one, Ride Along with Kevin Hart and Ice Cube.

  “What about this one?” she asked, joining him back on the sofa.

  “Sure. Let’s check it out. I hadn’t seen it yet either,” said Kean. “Anything Kevin Hart in is always funny.” He wrapped his arms around her in a comfortable embrace with her head rested on his chest as the movie began to play.

  “I feel like we’re really booed up right now,” Ivy joked.

  “What’s wrong with that? We could be boos. I’m ready when you are.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She couldn’t help but blush at his gesture.

  Ivy thought about what it would be like to be in a committed relationship with Kean from time to time, but it never moved her to want to actually be in one. It had been almost two years since her last—well, if you wanted to call it that, which still left an acidic taste in her mouth. And, she still had nightmares about it. No, she was definitely good on relationships because the last one almost killed her—literally.