With My Whole Heart

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Yeah, but the cost is crazy. Adoption has become easier for gays over the past few years, but still invites a level of scrutiny that Trent and I are just not comfortable with.” He made a noise, sounding frustrated. “There’re surrogates, of course. But then we hear stories about how the process is so iffy, with women changing their minds and keeping the baby. I have at least three friends who had that happen. Broke their hearts. They were there for the sonograms and heard the heartbeats and everything. So hard to watch people dealing with that kind of thing. Puts me off the idea, ya know?” He sounded sorrowful, sad, and she hated that for him.

  “But you know about the process of surrogates and stuff?” She shifted, shoving a throw pillow underneath her head. Time for the hard part.

  “Yeah, we’ve looked at it, even talked to a couple of registries and agencies. We’re…just not ready to follow through. Not yet. Maybe someday.” He chuckled. “Trent as a momma, I’d love to see that.” With a sigh, he asked, “Why all the questions, James?”

  “I’m going to be a surrogate.”

  Silence greeted her announcement, stretching on so long that she squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for him to unload on her with whatever was going through his head. Then he shocked her, tears thick in his voice when he said, “That’s amazing, Jaime Raquel. Absolutely…amazing is the only word I have. What a gift. A precious, precious gift.”

  Now Jaime was the one who couldn’t speak, and she sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her wrist. Through a clogged throat, she whispered, “It ain’t rocket science. But it’s something I can do.”

  She could almost see Jacob settling onto the sectional in his living room with a mug of hot tea, questions bubbling over as he sorted through the details with her, proving once again that her big brother was the best sounding board and friend she could hope to have. At the end of the conversation, she felt even more determined to help Marie and Cooper. When Jacob finally hung up, she stared unseeing at the door, her vision turned inward where she again saw the joy on the couple’s faces. “I’m going to make a baby.”

  ***

  “Nate, when you’re finished with homework, I’d like to chat.” Jaime rinsed the last plate, stacking it in the dish drainer as she scooped up the clean silverware, running it under the hot water before stuffing it into the little cup she had taped in the corner of the drainer. She ran the wet rag over all the countertops in the kitchen, finishing with the faucet and edges of the sink. After wringing it out, she draped the cloth over the top of the faucet and turned, dishtowel in hand, wiping water from her fingers while she watched Nate at the kitchen table.

  He was working his way through a complicated math problem, and even with him being engrossed, she knew he’d heard her, so there was no need to demand a response. While she waited, she moved to sit on the couch with her book, reading about the manner of romance in regency England. Absorbed by the story, she didn’t notice when Nate finished, just complained when he intentionally jostled her as he joined her on the couch. “Hey.”

  “We talkin’, Mom?” He bounced on the cushion again, and Jaime was reminded that he was only nine years old, not a teen yet, and playtime always needed to be on his schedule. The challenge was other kids, because the ones his age weren’t engaging to talk to, and the ones who could hold a conversation with Nate were driving and dating. Ugh.

  “Yup. I want to talk about something I’m considering.” Doing, her brain supplied, and she winced. He stilled, glancing at the front door, and then back to her. Odd. “You know about babies.” He narrowed his eyes, squinting as he nodded. “Yeah, not my favorite conversation, either. But bear with me, buddy.” He wrinkled his nose and angled his chin down, keeping his eyes on the cushion between them. “Some people, some women and men, have trouble having babies.” She’d already thought through this, knowing he would appreciate the scientific details, but wanted to get to the meat of the conversation before he got distracted. “Or they’re like your Uncle Jake, and can’t have babies. Not without help. So when that happens, they have a couple of options.”

  She paused, and Nate filled in one of the blanks, like she expected him to do. He had two friends who were adopted, and their parents didn’t make a big deal out of it, but didn’t hide it either. “Adoption is one way.”

  “Right. Exactly right. There are a lot of babies out there who need homes, but sometimes that process, the adoption piece, isn’t right for the couple.” She took a moment to compose herself and pulled in a breath. “Those couples do something called surrogacy, where they make an arrangement with a woman to help them have a baby. Not an easy thing, and there’s lots of technical stuff that I can tell you, but I wanted you to know I’ve decided to try and help a couple have a baby.” He opened his mouth, and she rushed to finish before he interrupted. “I’ve talked to them, and I like them. They are super nice. They’ve already done this once, and have a little boy. He’s four years younger than you are. But they want to have another baby. And that’s where I come in.” She paused now, to give him a chance to break in with questions but he just stared at her. “If it all works the way the doctors say it will, then I’ll carry a child for them, and once that baby is born, it will be entirely theirs. Not ours. Does that make sense?”

  Raising his chin, he looked at her. “We’re studying reproductive cells.” He stared intently, wanting something from her, but she didn’t have enough clues yet to know what. “In science, I mean. I know how the zygote is made, how the embryo starts. It’s a sperm and an egg. How…” Nate’s voice faltered, then he picked up the question, never looking away. “How do the sperm and egg work with this?”

  Not the question I expected. “Well, the egg will be from me. The doctor will take it out, and put it in a laboratory, and then they’ll have the sperm and introduce it into the same—” Don’t say test tube, that sounds weird. “—container.” She held his gaze, giving him time to ask whatever else he wanted.

  “And then?” His nose wrinkled again, but he never looked away, even though his fingers were working nervously along the seam of his shorts. “What happens then, Mom?”

  “And then they put it back inside me. And nine months later, their baby will be born.” She sighed in relief when he dropped his eyes, glad he’d accepted the brief explanation.

  “And you’ll be okay?” His fingertips plucked and pulled at a loose thread. “You’ll be…okay?”

  “They’ve been doing these procedures for a long time now, and it’s all safe, honey.” He darted a glance at her face, then back down. “I’ll have the normal baby stuff. Some tummy troubles at first, and then lots of doctor visits as we go along. Nothing’s going to happen to me.” Jaime studied him and reminded herself again that he was only nine. “Want a hug?” He didn’t answer, just threw himself at her. Jaime pulled him into her lap, letting his head rest above her heart, bending her neck to nuzzle into his hair. “I love you, Nathan.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.” He sighed. “Are they nice?”

  “Very nice. So very nice, and they want to have a baby so much. It’s a blessing to be able to do this for them, honey.” She squeezed him, tightening her arms around him. “They know about you, know I have a little boy, but I haven’t told them much about you, yet. If there was one thing you’d want them to know, what would it be?”

  “Don’t tell ‘em about the school stuff.” That was an immediate response, and his rejection of something so core to who he was surprised her. “Don’t, because then if the baby wasn’t like that, they’d be disappointed.”

  “Hmm. Okay, so the big brain piece is a no-go.” He giggled, and she squeezed him again. “If not the big brain, then what?”

  “Tell ‘em I like to ride bicycles. And I’m good at basketball. And I do my homework without being asked.” He lifted his head, looking up into her face with an unsure grin. “And that I hate broccoli and love pork chops.”

  “All good things to know,” she agreed. “I’ll share those with them when I meet them next
week. Do you have any other questions?”

  “About a million.” Still grinning, Nate tried to arch one eyebrow like his favorite superhero character often did. He failed, as usual, and they laughed when both of them rose nearly to his hairline. “But I can wait.”

  “Meaning you’re going to do your own research.” He nodded, and she smiled, relieved the conversation had gone so well. “Okay by me. Less talking I have to do.”

  “Mom?” In the process of crawling out of her lap, Nate paused and looked up at her again. “You’ll be okay, right?”

  “Yes, I will.” First him worried she was ill, and now this. There seemed to be a deeper reason for his concern, but she would wait to try and dig it out later. “I promise.”

  Chapter Six

  “You’re going to have to get out of the car, ma’am.” The cab driver’s voice surprised her, and Jaime whipped her head around, staring at the man who was scowling at her. “I got another fare.”

  Scrambling towards the door, Jaime tugged on the handle. “I’m so sorry. I just got distracted.” She’d already paid him, and once she was on the curb with the door closed, the vehicle pulled out into the circular drive, headed towards the quiet street that led out of the development. Turning back to the house, Jaime’s head tipped back as she stared up at the columns and sweeping porch. It’s a beautiful house. Made for a family.

  Swallowing hard, she took a step up the walkway as the front door opened. Marie came through and stood on the edge of the porch, hands out in welcome. “Jaime,” she cried as her face lit with a broad smile. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

  Two additional video interviews and one contract later, their futures were now connected in a way that Jaime still had trouble wrapping her head around. Not that she’d had any misgivings about the process, but the fact that this woman would be caring for and loving a child they would work together to make. It still was surreal that they looked so much like the other. Like sisters.

  She walked up the handful of stairs to place her hands in the offered grip, taking comfort from the fact Marie’s hands were as cold as hers. The two women stood and stared at the other for a moment, and Jaime saw a matching welling of tears in Marie’s eyes. “I’m a hugger,” Jaime blurted and felt Marie’s fingers convulse around hers. “Can I…would you mind if I hugged you?”

  Marie didn’t answer with words, but she pulled Jaime in close and released her hands, lifting her arms and wrapping them around Jaime. Returning the embrace, she felt Marie shift, felt a pressure on her shoulder as Marie rested her head there. “I’m a hugger, too.” The words were whispered, accompanied by a sniff that made Jaime smile. “I’d love a hug,” Marie said belatedly, and Jaime felt a squeeze.

  “I’m glad,” she whispered the words in response. “I’m so glad you’re a hugger.”

  “Marie, is she here? Is Jaime here?” A masculine voice came from the still-open door, and the two women pulled back slightly, turning to look. Jaime watched as the good-looking man she’d seen on video came through the door. Cooper smiled and extended a hand with a smile. “I see she is. Hello, Jaime. Is Marie already all up in your space?”

  His words worked to break the tension and Jaime laughed, her palm meeting his in a quick shake. “I think I was the one in her space first.” She glanced at the woman. “I was so nervous, but she put me right at ease.”

  Marie’s arm wrapped around her waist and she urged her towards the door. “Let’s head to the kitchen. I’ve made a light lunch for us. I was too nervous to eat breakfast, so now I’m starved.”

  Inside, Marie and Cooper led the way, and Jaime looked around curiously. Huge rooms with high ceilings, the living room and den were both filled with comfortable-looking, overstuffed furniture that invited you to sit and stay a spell. The walls were what held Jaime’s attention, and few other details registered as she looked at the pictures that decorated the rooms.

  Not too many so it felt crowded, but they were grouped in ways that told the story of the people in the images. Here were pictures of a much younger Marie and Cooper, together and separately surrounded by smiling people who looked enough like them so you knew they were family. Marie’s group was smaller, her parents and an older couple certain to be grandparents. Small, but you could tell at a glance they loved one another.

  Cooper’s was more expansive, and in more than one image he stood with arms over the shoulders of two men who looked to be slightly younger versions of him. His brothers, the twins Cole and Connor. His parents were with them in one picture, then the boys, their mom, and an older woman, a huge, white farmhouse in the background. That was probably after his grandfather had died, leaving the farm to his only daughter’s husband, Cooper’s dad. Jaime had learned that about Cooper from the background dossier provided. He’d been eighteen and in school in New England, withdrawing to come home and take care of family. Cooper had transferred to a local college, not letting anything stop him from following his dream while making certain the people he loved were okay.

  She drifted along the wall to where another group of frames were hung. These were from the couple’s wedding, and many of the same faces were smiling in these images, too. There was only one brother standing with him here, though, the second twin serving in the military at the time. Jaime let her gaze travel to the fireplace mantle and saw the polished wooden frame there, a triangle holding the flag that had covered that brother’s casket. Cole. Tragic, she thought, her gaze glancing back across all the pictures of the three boys together. They’d clearly been close, like her and Jacob.

  Then came the pictures of Marie, Cooper, and Samuel, and Jaime was surprised to see a woman in some of them. She didn’t look like either of them, and Marie decided she must be either Samuel’s egg donor or the gestational carrier. It made her throat tight to think about them maintaining a connection with the woman after Sam was born. Connor was in the pictures, too, and it was clear he had a close relationship with his nephew.

  She realized that Marie and Cooper had paused, waiting for her to finish her scan of the pictures. “You have a beautiful family.” She looked back at the flag, knowing the loss it signified. Cole, dead before he really had a chance to live. Like Brice. Tipping her chin away from the couple, she swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s so hard to see promise like that cut short. So young. Before they have a chance to fly.”

  “He loved serving his country. Born to it. Some men are. Cole struggled in school.” Cooper’s voice didn’t hold any sorrow, and Jaime turned to look at him, seeing he was looking up at one of the pictures on the wall of the three brothers, a look of pride on his face. “The army gave him a purpose. He didn’t like being away and missing things, like me marrying this beautiful woman.” His arm tightened around Marie, pulling her against him tighter. “But he loved serving. If he had to go, he at least went doing something he loved.” His gaze turned to Jaime, and she saw the loss in his smile, but his expression was also filled with love. “Let’s get something to eat. And if you have any pictures of your family you’d like to share, we would be honored to see them.”

  “I’m so glad you chose me.” Jaime felt her eyes grow round and she ducked her chin, horrified her mouth had just blurted those words. That fear fell away when Marie laughed. Jaime raised her gaze to see a broad smile on her face.

  “I like to think that we chose each other.” She held out a hand, “Now come on, and let’s go sit down.”

  ***

  Connor

  Standing just around the corner from the living room, Connor was glad no one had heard him come in the front door.

  Marie and Cooper both knew where he stood on this meeting, and it wasn’t in favor of it at all. If they’d seen him, they would have clammed up, afraid to set him off. He was excited about them having another baby, knew it was something Marie had dreamed of nearly since Sam was put in her arms.

  With a gestational carrier, he had no worries there. There was absolutely nothing to tie the baby back to the
womb that nurtured during the pregnancy. Needing an egg donor, well, he got that it took two to tango, and with Marie’s eggs not an option, a donor was necessary. But he’d urged them to do a blind donation, not someone you had to look in the face for nine months. Sperm donor, also a necessity, and one he was honored his brother had asked him to do again.

  Connor didn’t get confused, though, didn’t have any issues with Sam calling him Uncle Con. Never thought of the boy as his child. Sam was Cooper’s kid, end of story. This, though? Having the egg donor and carrier in one person and then getting to know that person intimately? Mistake.

  That was how he’d felt until five minutes ago, at least.

  Hearing this woman express sorrow at the death of someone she never knew shocked him, but her sincerity couldn’t be questioned. She sounded like she knew how it felt, and the genuine sadness in her voice picked at the scar he carried inside him.

  When Cole had died, he’d known it. The minute it happened, he’d felt it. That damn psychic tie so many twins had that he and science couldn’t explain. The echo that had been so strong between them, always. Bicycle wrecks and broken hearts, everything had been shared between the two of them.

  It meant the very instant his brother was no longer breathing on this earth had branded in his brain. Connor had been on the basketball court, taking a class of freshmen through a new set of drills when it felt like his heart exploded. He’d fallen to his knees, hands clutching his chest, silent in the face of an overwhelming pain. Scared the fuck out of the kids. They’d thought Coach was having a heart attack, and two of them had dialed 911, calling the sheriff to the school before he could stop them, leaving Connor to have to try and explain something he couldn’t even put words to.

  Four days later, when the same sheriff came visiting they’d shared a knowing look. It wasn’t news to Connor that Cole was gone. Not to him. The silence in his head was enough proof for him.

  If I’d gone in the military with him, I would have been there. Could have saved him. That was the only thing he and his twin had ever really argued about, and in the end, Cole’s driven need to protect and serve had won out, separating the two men for the first time in their lives.