“I appreciate your desire to be helpful, Delta. But, no.”
“OK. Just tell me how I can help you.”
“This is how you can help me.” She looked at me, and then at Natalie. “Both of you.” She scanned the room and I wasn’t positive what she was looking for. “Just keep your mouth shut.” Amelia turned her back and picked up several used dishes and glasses from the coffee table.
“Just keep your mouth shut,” Natalie quietly mocked her mother’s voice. Amelia didn’t seem to hear. She walked down the hall to deposit the dishes in the kitchen sink.
I pretended not to hear. I was still recovering from Amelia’s dismissive and hurtful comments. Moreover, if I had heard, I would have had to say something or do something. I didn’t want to cause any friction in their relationship. I wanted to support their family. Honestly, I did. My goal was to strengthen the bond between Amelia and Natalie, but still provide Natalie with a sounding board and another badly needed perspective. I wanted Natalie to have a warm, loving home. To the degree that Amelia was absent and unable to attend to Natalie, I would step in and offer my assistance. I wanted Amelia to have the baby that she dreamed of having, and I strongly believed that I could help her. Together, we could achieve her dream.
I knew that Lucia’s baby was not the right one for the Straubs. I loved them. I wanted what was best for them.
CHAPTER NINE
“What a beautiful home,” Lucia said. “Natalie, I love your unicorn collection.” She and Fritz returned to the library after touring the house.
Natalie forced a tight smile. “Thanks.” She was looking more like her mother all the time: her face was getting thinner and she had a growing air of sophistication. Not sophisticated in her clothing or her language or her ideas, but sophisticated in that her innocence was leaving or had already left. Maybe the right word was worldliness. Over the last couple of months, her carefree spirit had been replaced by a quiet understanding of the emotional landscape she lived in. I felt as though she were seeing her home for the first time. And witnessing a divide between her parents. One that she’d probably witnessed in the past, but in this situation, that divide could not be ignored.
Perhaps she was also seeing her mother’s actions more clearly. Amelia’s actions had little to do with promoting the interests of her family. I understood Amelia’s need for a baby. It was a desire to pull herself from the abyss. To be lifted out of her suffering. To leave her own body and become someone else.
“Have a seat,” Amelia said to Lucia, gesturing to the sofa, and sat down across from her. Natalie was sitting tense and cross-legged on the arm of the sofa. I sat down between her and her mother.
“Lucia,” Amelia said, “your medical bills must be a burden.” She clasped her hands in her lap in an earnest-looking pose. “And you mentioned that you had to cut your hours back at work because you haven’t been feeling well. Pregnancy takes such a toll on a woman’s body. Such a toll. I remember it well. I think … it’s important to have support. Assuming that this works out, and that we all feel comfortable, I’d like to provide the kind of support that would allow you to rest, to study, to exercise, and to have proper nutrition.”
Amelia was successfully managing a maternal tone, as if the only difference between her and Lucia was age.
“Assuming that it works out,” Amelia said, “I’d like to cover all your expenses—medical, food, transportation—retroactively and for the duration of your pregnancy. It’s the least Fritz and I can do.” She looked at Fritz like she was hoping for a nod of affirmation, but she received none. She quickly turned back to Lucia, who appeared to be confused by Amelia’s offer. “Furthermore, I recognize that your pregnancy interrupted your studies, so I’d like to cover the remainder of your college tuition. Wherever you choose to go.”
Lucia held the end of her red scarf in her fingers and twisted the tassels. She didn’t smile or say thank you. Maybe she recognized the semi-bribe for what it was and was insulted. Maybe she saw in Amelia an easy target and planned to squeeze her for all she was worth.
Leaning his back against the doorway to the library, Fritz removed his glasses, revealing a red indentation on either side of his nose, and cleaned the lenses meticulously with the bottom of his undershirt. I gathered he and Amelia had not discussed the subject prior to Lucia’s arrival. I gathered he was angry.
I sensed Natalie feeling her importance in the family slipping out from underneath her. Amelia’s offer to Lucia would have a financial impact on their lives. I thought about that unpaid tuition bill.
Amelia moved to the opposite sofa, next to Lucia, and she took the girl’s hand in her own. “Thank you for coming to our house tonight. It means the world to me. And I know that Fritz and Natalie feel the same way.” Fritz checked his watch. Natalie glued her eyes to the floor and chewed her nails.
The meeting was coming to a close. I needed for Amelia and Fritz to view Lucia’s state of mind accurately, and I only had a few minutes left in which to shine a light on the cracks in their understanding of her.
“What is the baby’s name?” I asked.
“Nina,” Lucia said.
Perhaps my question was ill timed, but I knew I wouldn’t have another chance.
“Who gets to name the baby?” Natalie was suddenly reengaged.
“The baby’s parents name the baby.” Amelia spoke with an edge in her voice.
“Who counts as the baby’s parents?” Natalie asked.
A silence fell over the room. I could feel Amelia’s anger emanating like a hot stove.
“That’s an odd question, Natalie.” Amelia made an effort to sound lighthearted. “Because Lucia is the child’s birth mother. But someone will adopt the baby and that person or those people will be the baby’s adoptive parents.”
“So who names the baby?” Natalie asked again, her voice and face now animated.
There was a brief silence before Fritz interjected. “Honey, the adoptive parents usually name the baby. The baby takes their last name, and they choose a first name for the baby.”
Natalie had released her limbs from their constricted position and seemed to be regaining control of her voice and her body. She addressed Lucia directly. “So why did you choose a name already?”
Lucia paused. “The baby’s inside me.” She placed her hand on her middle. “Right now I’m the child’s mother. And I need to talk to my baby. So I call her Nina.”
“Well, won’t that be confusing for her?” Natalie asked everyone. “Now she hears Lucia calling her Nina, but then later she has a different name. I don’t think that’s fair to the baby. If her name is Nina now, it should stay Nina. It’s a nice name anyway.”
“Wow,” Amelia said. “I didn’t realize what time it was. It’s almost ten. Lucia, you need to get some rest.”
“Yeah.” Fritz checked his watch again.
“Let’s get you a car home.” Amelia picked up her iPad from the coffee table to call a car.
Amelia and Lucia both stood. Amelia planted a kiss on Lucia’s forehead. It was almost a religious gesture, very unlike Amelia. “I want you to take care of yourself. Promise me you will,” she said.
Lucia nodded self-consciously.
“Bye, Lucia.” Fritz gave Lucia an awkward thumbs-up and then disappeared into the kitchen.
Amelia helped to bundle Lucia into her red coat. Then she slipped on her sneakers, which were next to the front door, and walked Lucia outside to the car. I stood in the doorway with my hand on Natalie’s shoulder and watched the interaction between the two women on the sidewalk. Amelia, who had neglected to wear a coat herself, must have been freezing cold with her bare legs and sneakers. She put her hand to Lucia’s cheek. Lucia, with her high ponytail and round face, looked like a little girl compared to Amelia. Once Lucia climbed into the car, Amelia blew her a kiss through the window, then clasped her hands to her heart. As the car pulled away, Amelia waved both hands in the air as if she were saying goodbye to her daughter. And I suppose, in h
er mind, she was.
* * *
I opened the hall closet and found my coat. It was next to Amelia’s shiny purple Moncler. I’d tried on the exact same one at a store recently. One day I planned to ask Amelia if I could borrow her coat, but today was probably not the best day for that.
I didn’t want to leave, but I also didn’t want to face a moment when the Straubs wished I wasn’t there.
Amelia walked back up the front path, shivering from the cold. I kissed Natalie on the cheek.
“Delta.” Amelia stood in the doorway. “Why did you ask the baby’s name?”
The hostility in her voice gave me a sinking sensation.
She closed the door behind her. “The baby doesn’t have a name.” Amelia’s words came at a fast clip. “In the Jewish religion, you never name a baby before it’s born. Neither do you buy clothes or a crib for a baby, or you might draw the attention of the ‘evil eye.’”
“I’m sorry … I was curious,” I said, “because I overheard her talking to the baby when I walked her to the bathroom. The baby is probably better off with a birth mother who is invested in the child’s well-being. No?”
“No. Yes. No.” Amelia kicked her sneakers off by the coat closet. I followed her down the hallway toward the kitchen, where Fritz was sitting on one of the counter stools, drinking another beer and eating a large bag of chips. She leaned her torso all the way forward onto the Calacatta marble of the island, her arms crossed to create a pillow for her head. After a minute of silence, she stood up and faced me again. “Lucia has decided that she is not the baby’s mother. That’s her decision. Whether she chooses us or another family, she has no right to name the baby. She has no rights at all regarding this baby.” Amelia stood uncomfortable in her body, almost as if it belonged to someone else.
Next to the open refrigerator, Natalie held a container of milk in her hands. Inside the refrigerator, at least ten bottles of champagne, lying sideways, covered one of the shelves. Perhaps they’d had a party recently or were going to have a party. One I hadn’t been invited to.
“Of course,” I said, “her rights will be terminated as a birth parent. After the baby is born.”
Amelia’s hands involuntarily flicked in the direction of the floor, like she was shaking water off them.
“Amelia,” I continued, “it’s just I sense ambivalence about her decision. I’m scared you might be hurt.”
“No one’s made any decision yet.” Fritz tossed the empty bag of chips into the trash under the sink and slammed the cabinet. “Not Lucia. Not us. And this conversation is bullshit.”
Apparently, Fritz and Amelia had little regard for Natalie’s presence in the room and how she might be processing their conversation. They prided themselves on being transparent with their child.
Natalie reached up high to pull a tall blue tumbler from one of the open shelves. She poured the last few ounces of milk into her glass. She looked exhausted.
“I have to invest in this baby,” Amelia said, her voice devoid of inflection. “I don’t have a choice. I have to invest in this baby.”
“No, Amelia,” Fritz said. “You will not force this down my throat.”
“Amelia,” I said, “you have options.”
I tried to envision an Amelia who was not overflowing with confidence.
Tears filled her eyes. It seemed to me that she was encouraging the tears. She didn’t have an answer for Fritz and, strategically, probably thought that crying was her best response. Not to suggest that she wasn’t impulsive and dramatic. She was. But, to achieve her end, I believed that Amelia could control her behavior. She and I were alike in that way.
I had never felt a strong urge to have a baby. The urge for me was to be a surrogate for Amelia and Fritz. The intimacy of that act. The importance. Very soon after the baby’s arrival, Amelia would return to working long hours. I could bond with the baby. I could potentially have a stronger bond with the child than Amelia would. And perhaps even more critical, my presence would be forever integrated into the Straubs’ lives.
It wasn’t the right time to introduce the subject to Amelia. I didn’t want to appear to be invested in any particular outcome. Amelia covered her face and wept, her body caving in. Something about her crumpled form made me know that I wouldn’t be able to repair the rift today. I needed to come at it from another angle.
“You all should get some rest.” I put my arms around Natalie and kissed her. Leaving the house took tremendous willpower. I told my legs to walk and they didn’t. An undefinable magnetic force held me in place.
Fritz moved toward the door, expecting me to follow. I forced my feet to lift and step in that direction.
“Call me if you need anything,” I said to Fritz. I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to know how much I cared about him and his well-being.
“Thanks, Delta.” He leaned forward, as if he might embrace me, but then thought better of it and stepped back.
That night, I had a recurring dream. I was running toward a baby, and then I became the baby that I was running toward. Someone’s arms were wrapped around my body. I felt encompassed by warmth and love. I belonged to someone.
CHAPTER TEN
I woke up early with Lucia’s face etched in my mind. I pulled up the photos of her and clicked through all of them until I landed on the one. She was the Madonna. She was an Angel. A Child.
The photo needed more sex if it were to achieve its intended result. Making a pregnant woman look sexy is a subtle art. If I made any alterations, they would have to be indiscernible so that Lucia wouldn’t catch them. After some careful scrutiny, I developed a game plan: I darkened the shadows around her breasts. I took a sliver off her waist to make it slightly smaller than it actually was. I moved her hand so that it was closer to her crotch. I layered beads of moisture on her face. And I parted her lips a little bit. When Lucia’s boyfriend saw the photo, he would see a woman who was sexually aroused, notwithstanding her angelic innocence. He would imagine fucking her again. At the same time, he would see the mother of his child. And he would see his unborn child inside her. It would be difficult to resist all of that. Maybe impossible.
When my work was finished, I emailed Lucia the photo. Lucia, I had to send you this. Don’t forget what we discussed.
For the remainder of the day, I checked my email constantly. It was close to midnight when she wrote back. Wow. Thanks, Delta.
I felt certain she would send her boyfriend the photo. I had extreme confidence in my work. I knew how he would react to the picture of Lucia. He would want to claim her and her baby as his property. Right away, before someone else did.
* * *
The Straubs and I had established a routine; they assumed I would babysit Natalie every Friday. But given the nature of our last exchange, I could no longer take the routine for granted. I texted Amelia on Friday morning. She didn’t respond.
I tried to distract myself with errands and activities that day.
Friday evening I returned home and gave Eliza her dinner, and afterward we sat together on the sofa for several minutes, at which time I stroked the soft fur on her back and told her about my day. If she had been able to speak, she would have asked me not to leave her for so many hours. She would have asked me to bring her along next time. She would have told me that loneliness made her want to end her life—that the walls of the apartment we shared were inching imperceptibly toward each other, so that she feared she would one day be crushed.
I took a glass of wine to my office and spent two hours online researching adoption in New York State. I learned that a birth mother can decide whether an adoption is “open,” and if she stipulates, she can see the child as often as she chooses to. That kind of ongoing connection to Lucia would be an albatross around Amelia’s neck, especially if Lucia were struggling financially. The Straubs might find themselves coerced into supporting Lucia’s whole family.
I also researched surrogacy laws. From a conversation with Amelia, I’d already gather
ed that paid surrogacy wasn’t legal in New York. I’d have a significant advantage as an “altruistic surrogate,” if the Straubs were to go that route. A whole layer of logistical complication could be eliminated, though they wouldn’t have an enforceable contract. In New York, a woman who gives birth is presumed to be the legal mother at birth and she has preferred parental status. If I were the surrogate, they would have to trust me.
Later that night, I opened up one of the folders on my hard drive. It contained photos of the Straubs’ kitchen, the ones I took when I was babysitting Natalie and Piper. I couldn’t help dwelling on the high ceilings, the exquisite finishes, the various touches of brass, copper, nickel all working in unison with glass to create a shimmery vision. I remember when I first saw that kitchen. It appeared to be made out of crystal because it sparkled so much.
I pulled up the photos of myself that I’d used for my website. Five years earlier, Lana had shot them as a favor to me. They were by far the best photos of myself that I’d ever had taken. The close-ups emphasized my bright blue eyes, creamy skin, and silky hair. The long shots highlighted my hourglass figure. I’d enjoyed designing my website, primarily because it had been an opportunity to showcase the photos. Once finished with my website, I’d sought out other occasions to use them. I considered it a waste to leave such extraordinary pictures sitting unused on my computer, so I placed my image in advertisements I found online and created photos of myself skiing or hiking or scuba diving. The activity was amusing, but since I didn’t know the other people in the frame, and I’d never been to the locations, it was hard for me to believe in the pictures. Whereas, I discovered that inserting myself into my clients’ photos wasn’t such a stretch for my imagination, and, as a result, I found it much more gratifying.
When I layered my image into the Straubs’ kitchen, it was a way to spend time with the Straubs, all of whom I missed terribly, and a way to fully inhabit their home and their life. I found stock photos of pots and pans online and layered them into the scene too, along with cutting boards, knives, vegetables, and fruit. I already had photos of Natalie and Piper watching Mean Girls. And now I had photos of myself cooking. I cut back and forth between the images to create a short slideshow. One would have inferred that I was their mother, or possibly Natalie’s big sister. Then I cut to photos of Natalie and Piper sound asleep in Natalie’s room. That came afterward in the sequence. Then, at the end of the evening, I cut to photos of me and Fritz. We were making love in the Straubs’ bedroom. I had already taken independent photos of Fritz, me, and the Straubs’ bedroom. I just had to layer our bodies on their bed. Fritz’s naked body posed a bit of a challenge, but I combined a few different images, some I had taken myself and some from Amelia’s Instagram account—pictures of him in his swimsuit. As luck would have it, the light in all of these was coming from the same direction, hitting him at the same angle. I had more than one AI “undressing” app on my computer. All I had to do was input Fritz’s image in a swimsuit, and after a couple of minutes, I’d get Fritz completely nude, front, back and side views. The computer’s best guess of what he’d look like naked was close, but inferior to my best guess, so I tweaked the computer-generated image, changing the skin tone and muscle tone slightly.
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