California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  Bernie led the way to the small formal living room. Hayes stood when they entered. He looked nervous, Zennie thought. They both did.

  Zennie perched on one of the wingback chairs while Bernie and Hayes sat next to each other on the small sofa. The room was completely silent.

  Zennie thought about the few minutes she’d spent online, looking up the basics of the procedure. She figured pregnant was pregnant and she would learn about that as she went. She was healthy, fit and she loved her friend. The decision had been an easy one.

  Zennie smiled at them. “I want to do it. I want to be your surrogate.”

  Bernie reached for Hayes’s hand. “But? Is there a but?”

  “There’s no but. I talked to a friend of mine who works for an ob/gyn and she said it’s a relatively simple procedure. I already have an appointment with my gynecologist to check blood work and have a physical. Once we know everything is fine, we wait for me to ovulate. When that happens, Hayes, um, provides us with his sample, then it’s inserted into me and we wait to find out if I’m pregnant.”

  She smiled. “I’ve contacted my HR department and they’re sending over information on what’s covered through my health insurance. My paid leave is six weeks, which should be plenty.” She paused. “I think that’s all I have now. So if you two still want to do this, I’m in.”

  Bernie and Hayes looked at each other, then Bernie ran over and pulled Zennie to her feet. “Thank you,” she breathed as they hugged. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Zennie hugged her back, then looked from her friend to Hayes. “I’m happy to do it. I just need you to be clear on one thing.”

  Hayes and Bernie exchanged another look.

  “What?” Hayes asked, sounding worried.

  Zennie moved next to Hayes. They were both blondes. He had hazel eyes while hers were blue, but their coloring was the same.

  Zennie shrugged. “You’ve got to be okay with getting a white baby. I want to say we could be hoping for a very pale olive skin tone, but it seems unlikely given what we’re working with here.”

  Bernie burst out laughing and rushed over to hug them both. “I have a white husband and best friend. I can deal with a white baby.”

  Hayes pulled her close and kissed her. “Good to know. If we move to a nicer neighborhood, everyone will assume I’m sleeping with the nanny. It’s kind of sexy.”

  Zennie was glad they were keeping things light, but she’d wanted to bring up the race thing. Bernie wasn’t going to look like her child and that needed to be okay.

  She and Bernie sat together on the sofa while Hayes ducked out.

  “Are you sure?” Bernie asked.

  Zennie grabbed her hand. “Look into my eyes as I say this. I want to be your surrogate. Nothing would make me happier. Once we start the process, you have to promise you’ll never ask me that question again. Got it?”

  “I swear.”

  Hayes returned with a folder. “We’ve drawn up a contract. You’ll want to read it and have a lawyer go over it. Basically it says we’ll pay every expense you have. Everything from deductibles to prenatal vitamins.”

  “Which you need to start taking,” Bernie said with a smile.

  “We’ll cover your salary if you need more time after delivery,” Hayes added. “We’re also taking out an insurance policy on you so if something happens and you can’t go back to work, you’ll get two million dollars.”

  “That seems excessive,” Zennie murmured, slightly overwhelmed by what was happening. She reminded herself that she’d only been thinking about this for a few days while they’d been planning it for months.

  “It’s just in case,” he told her. “We’ve also made arrangements to have the baby given up for adoption, if we die while you’re pregnant. We’ve researched different agencies and have found the one we think is best.”

  “We’re not going to die,” Bernie assured her. “But if the worst happens, you’re covered.”

  Zennie hadn’t considered the possibility that something could happen to them, leaving her with a baby.

  “This is a lot,” she admitted.

  “It’s overwhelming,” Bernie told her. “That’s why we wrote it all down and want you to read everything before you make your final decision. You can still back out. It’s perfectly okay.”

  “I’m not backing out. I will look everything over, as you said, then we’ll move forward with the pregnancy.” Zennie had made up her mind—she was sure. The details were intimidating, but once they got through this initial part, everything would be easier.

  “Then we’re doing this?” Bernie asked.

  “We are. Now let’s go out to dinner and celebrate.”

  Hayes looked at his wife. “I made reservations at that great vegan place you like.” He turned to Zennie. “The food is great and now that you’re going to be eating for two, every bite counts.”

  Oh, goodie, Zennie thought as she smiled. Vegan for dinner. And based on the fact that she’d just agreed to get pregnant, there wasn’t going to be any wine to wash it down.

  Chapter Nine

  By Friday Finola couldn’t stand her own company anymore. The disastrous conversation with Nigel had meant a sleepless night. She was tired, heartsick, emotionally battered and mentally lost. She needed to be around people who cared about her. She needed sympathy and hugs.

  Based on the text loop with her mother and her sisters, she knew everyone would be at her mom’s house after work today to come up with a plan to go through the house, sorting years’ worth of memories and junk so the place could be sold.

  Finola didn’t want to feel this awful, she thought as she drove from Sherman Oaks to Burbank. She didn’t want to be in pain or face the humiliation. She wanted her old life back with her great husband and her plan to get pregnant. Why couldn’t she have that?

  “I can’t have that because my jerk of a husband can’t keep his dick in his pants,” she yelled while she waited at a stoplight. “Damn you, Nigel!”

  She ranted the entire drive, then pulled up in front of the house where she’d spent much of her childhood. Zennie’s and Ali’s cars were already in the driveway. The whole gang was there.

  Finola paused before getting out of her car. She had to be strong. She had to hold herself together. It was one thing to get some sympathy, it was another to scare her family with her overwhelming sadness and anger. She could lose it, but only if she stayed on this side of normal.

  She let herself inside and listened to the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. No doubt they were having an organizational meeting before they got to work. After dropping her bag on the small table by the front door, she called out, “Hi, everyone. It’s me.”

  “What?” Mary Jo cried. “Finola, darling, is that really you?”

  All three of them hurried through the living room. Ali reached her first and hugged her.

  “What are you doing here?” Ali asked. “I thought you were in Hawaii until tomorrow night. Did I have that wrong? I’m so happy to see you. Did you have an amazing time?”

  Her mother pushed Ali aside and reached for Finola. “You’re not tan at all. Good girl. You’re using sunscreen. When did you get back?”

  Zennie simply waved. “Hey.”

  “Hey, back.”

  Finola looked at the three members of her family. She knew she could trust them with her broken heart, that they would be there for her and take care of her. She let her grip on her self-control slip a little and tears instantly filled her eyes.

  “Nigel left me.”

  “What? No!”

  “That’s impossible. He adores you.”

  “Are you okay? What happened?”

  The questions flew around her. Finola covered her face with her hands and started to sob. She was led through the house to the kitchen where someone helped her into a chair. A box o
f tissues appeared in front of her. Mary Jo and Ali sat on either side of her while Zennie boiled water for tea. Her mother kept rubbing her back.

  “Tell us what happened,” she said, her voice gentle. “Once we know what’s wrong, we can help you fix it.”

  “There’s nothing to fix.” Finola grabbed a handful of tissues. After wiping her face, she blew her nose. “You can’t tell anyone. No one can know. I mean it. You can’t tell anyone, no matter what. If this gets out, I’ll be ruined.”

  It was going to get out, she thought grimly. It was just a matter of time.

  “Of course we won’t say anything,” Ali assured her. “But, Finola, Nigel couldn’t have left you. He loves you. We can all see it, every time he looks at you.”

  “I wish that were true, but it’s not. He’s having an affair.”

  “With who?” her mother asked. “What bitch did this? Was it someone at his office? It’s always the young receptionist.”

  “Mom, don’t,” Zennie said from the stove.

  “You don’t know it wasn’t her.”

  “You don’t know it was.”

  Finola took Ali’s hand and laced their fingers together. She and her sister had always been close. Ali would give her strength.

  “He told me last Friday, right before the show.”

  “I knew it!” her mother crowed. “You said it was food poisoning but I knew you were off for another reason.”

  Finola told them what had happened. She started with Nigel’s blunt declaration and ended with Nigel’s visit the previous day.

  “They’ve gone to Chile to ski,” she said, still crying. “I don’t think he’s coming back. I think it’s over.”

  “It’s not over,” Ali said soothingly. “I can’t believe he would do this. Maybe he hit his head or something because we all know he loves you.”

  “I’m never getting grandchildren,” Mary Jo complained.

  “Mom!” Ali and Zennie said together.

  “You’re not helping,” Zennie added, setting a mug of tea in front of Finola.

  “I wish he’d hit his head, but he hasn’t,” she said, releasing Ali and taking the mug in both hands. “He says it’s my fault he cheated.”

  “What? No.” Zennie sat down across from her. “That’s crazy. You’re way too good to him. You spoil him.”

  “It’s important to spoil a man,” her mom said, looking pointedly at Zennie. “Something you would know if you ever stayed in a relationship more than fifteen minutes.”

  Finola sniffed. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Zennie said, glaring at their mother. “Clark and I broke up, but we were hardly dating. It’s no big deal.”

  Mary Jo sighed. “What a horrible week. First Zennie, then Finola, then—” She jumped, as if someone had kicked her.

  “Not now,” Ali said quickly, glaring at her mother. “This is more important.”

  Finola knew there was something going on, but honestly, she just couldn’t find it in herself to care about anything but her own pain.

  “You don’t deserve this,” Ali continued, turning back to Finola. “You were always so careful. You knew you wanted a career, so you never played around with guys. You barely dated in college because you didn’t want to be distracted. You chose Nigel. Doesn’t he know what he has in you? You’re perfect.”

  Finola basked in the warm praise even as she knew her sister wasn’t right about any of it. At least not the perfect part. She had been careful in college, not wanting to get tied down. It was easier not to date than to risk falling in love. When she’d met Nigel, she’d known right away he was the one, and he’d felt the same way about her. Everything had been so easy with him, she thought, fighting new tears. So wonderful. They’d been good together.

  She’d warned him her mother could be difficult, so the first time she’d brought Nigel to this house, he’d been charming and attentive to Mary Jo, winning her over when no other guy ever had. He’d been sweet to Ali and Zennie, remembering all the birthdays and helping her buy presents. How could he have changed so much?

  “I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “It’s going to come out. If he was dating a regular person, no one would really care, but this is Treasure. The press follows her every move. They know she has a thing for married men and they always go after the wife. Most people get to suffer through an affair in private, but not when Treasure’s involved.”

  She thought about her show and her viewers and how they were all going to judge her. At some point she would have to tell her producers and Rochelle. She shuddered, thinking of the humiliation and how people would pity her.

  “You can stay here if you want,” her mother offered. “In your old room. It’s all still there.” Mary Jo put an arm around her. “No one will find you here. You’ll be safe.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I might take you up on that.”

  Not this second, but if she had to, at least she had a refuge.

  Ali started to say something, then stopped. She patted Finola’s arm. “We’re all here for you, no matter what. I even know someone who probably knows a guy who can beat him up.”

  Mary Jo glanced at her. “Who would you know?”

  “Daniel, Glen’s brother. I suspect he has some interesting friends. Or maybe he’d just do it himself.”

  While Finola wanted Nigel bleeding and in pain, she didn’t think hiring someone was a smart move. At least not today. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Zennie said from the other side of the table. “He’s such an asshole.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I know what will take our minds off everything,” Mary Jo said cheerfully. “Let’s start with the junk room. It’s a big mess. We’ll each take a side and be done in no time.”

  “Zennie and I will tackle the closet,” Ali said. “Finola, do you feel up to it?”

  “Of course. I could use a distraction.” Anything was better than being home alone where she alternated between trying to figure out a plan to win Nigel back and wondering if she could find a few anthrax spores to send him in the mail.

  They went upstairs to the bonus room. It was long and narrow, with a peaked roof and one small window at the far end. Shelves lined the two long walls, and there was a huge craft table under the window. Right by the stairs was a massive walk-in closet with more shelving.

  Finola looked at all the boxes and bins, the stacks of fabric and grocery bags filled with who-knows-what and knew there was no way they could get through all this.

  A distraction, she told herself. She was here for that and nothing more. Mindless sorting would help.

  She and her mother started on the shelves, while Zennie and Ali tackled the closet. Finola reached for a couple of small bins and set them down. She opened the first one and stared inside.

  “Fabric scraps?”

  “From my quilting projects,” Mary Jo said. “I just couldn’t get inspired. Maybe if I’d had grandchildren.”

  “Mom!” Ali and Zennie said together.

  “You’re not helping,” Zennie added.

  “It’s not my fault,” Mary Jo complained. “At least one of you should have popped out a baby by now. Speaking of not being in a relationship and giving your mother the only thing she’s ever wanted, Zennie, I’m setting you up on a blind date. I’ll text you the details.”

  Finola turned toward the closet. “Won’t you need time to get over your breakup?”

  “We’d only gone out a few times. It’s not a breakup.”

  “It is to me,” her mother muttered. “Finola, be a dear and go into the garage and bring back a couple of boxes. We’ll put what I’m giving away in one box and trash in the other. Things I’m taking with me can stay on the shelves.”

  Finola did as she was asked. By the time she was back with the boxes she
saw that Zennie and Ali had found the family’s Christmas village. The sight of it reminded her of many holidays, when each of the girls had been allowed to add to the village. There wasn’t a master plan and they each liked different styles, so their village was a hodgepodge of Victorian and modern, ceramic and wood. There were three pet stores and at least five churches. Lots of trees and lampposts and a big carousel Finola had picked for her sixth Christmas.

  She touched the beautiful carved horses, remembering how much she had loved it. The carousel could be wound so it moved and played music. Since the divorce, Mary Jo hadn’t bothered decorating much for the holidays, but she’d also refused to give anything to her daughters. She was saving it all for when she had grandchildren, or so she’d claimed. Now she looked at the collection and shook her head.

  “Take what you want. I won’t have room for any of it in my new place. It’s too small.”

  “Ali, isn’t the Victorian church your favorite?” Zennie asked.

  “You mean the one she broke?” Mary Jo sighed. “You might as well take that one, Ali. No one else will want it.”

  “We were all playing,” Finola said sharply. “It wasn’t her fault.” She moved close to Ali and smiled. “Remember how we used to make streets out of cotton balls so it looked like snow?”

  Ali smiled. “Yes, and then we’d sprinkle on glitter. We made a really big mess.”

  “Maybe, but it was beautiful. Which pieces do we all want?”

  Zennie took one of the pet stores and a church. “I don’t need anything else. Just these two. Okay, and the toy store if no one cares.”

  “Go for it,” Ali said, touching the carousel. “You’ll want this, Finola. It’s always been your favorite.”

  Finola nodded because her throat was too tight for her to speak. She remembered sitting with the carousel for hours, winding it up over and over again, listening to the music and watching the horses move. She used to daydream about where she would go if they were real. Her destinations were always far away, where she would meet interesting people and learn things no one else knew. Years later, she’d imagined setting up the carousel in her own house.