Page 10 of The Surrogate Nanny
“I’m gonna fight, baby. You’ll see. Maybe you would...have more...with him: more toys, space, pretty dresses, and a private school education. I’m sorry, but...I love you, Nori, and I know we can be happy. It doesn’t take much—just me and you dancing together on the porch.”
I lay on the rug and closed my eyes. I doubted I’d get any rest—too much on my mind.
Why can’t we share her? It’s only fair, but no, Anthony Powell is a selfish prick.
***
The night faded into morning without me getting a lick of sleep. Shockingly, Nori hadn’t woken yet. Her father’s unexpected appearance must’ve drained her as much as it did me. I paused when I heard knocking at the door.
It’s barely 8:00 in the morning. Has he come so soon to take Nori away?
I unlocked the multiple locks, prepared to give Anthony a piece of my mind. Instead of Anthony, I was greeted by a lean, but handsome man in an expensive suit. He pushed his glasses up his nose anxiously and shifted in his spot.
“Hello, Ms. Livingston. I’m Jonathan Baker. I’m representing Mr. Powell. May I come in?”
“Right now is not a good time. I—”
“I insist. I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“Fine. Make it quick,” I demanded, standing aside to give him room to enter. “Would you like some coffee?” I asked in an attempt to be hospitable as he followed me to my cramped kitchen.
“No, thank you.”
I shrugged my shoulders dismissively, and he sat at the kitchen table. I glared vehemently at the nervous attorney who shuffled through papers, trying to get his life in order.
“The contract you signed was very clear,” he stated. He looked up at me before ducking behind the papers. “If you take this to court, you will exhaust your funds and lose.” He shifted and slid a copy of the contract over to me. I didn’t bother looking at it. I knew what it said. “You agreed that you wouldn’t have any parental or visitation rights to the child. Also, Nori isn’t biologically yours. This could be seen as a kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping?” I repeated softly. “I waited two days. I didn’t touch, nurse, or name her. I didn’t even want to look at her. I waited for him to show up. I’m sympathetic, but what happened to him is not my fault. His time was up, and I stepped in.” I picked up the contract. “I took care of her and loved her. As I said, I’m sympathetic and will be happy to let him see his daughter and be in her life, but she’s not just some kid I gave birth to anymore.” I tore the contract in half and pushed the papers across the table. “Nori’s my child, and you’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands. I’ll never stop fighting for her.”
Mr. Baker lost his air of nervousness and took his glasses off with a heavy sigh. “This is an extenuating circumstance, Ms. Livingston. Mr. Powell is grateful that you took such good care of Nori. But she was never yours. The time has come, Ms. Livingston. You have to return her to her biological parent. I hope you say your goodbyes.” He stood and gathered his briefcase. “Please excuse me. I’ll see myself out.”
“Do you have any children, Mr. Baker?” I asked.
He glanced back at me. “Yes.”
I smiled. “What would you do if you were me?”
He closed his eyes and turned his back to me. “Good luck, Ms. Livingston.”
***
I glanced down at the torn copy of the contract.
Simone Livingston will have no parental—
I looked away. I couldn’t torture myself further. I abandoned the kitchen for my bed. Nori wasn’t gone yet, but there was a hole in me—always had been until Nori—but with her gone, that hole would turn into a crater.
My baby will be taken from me. I want to be optimistic, but optimism isn’t realistic right now.
Nori’s cries propelled me out of bed. My feet touched the thin beige carpet, but I couldn’t move. It was as if my feet were stuck like flypaper. All my energy escaped out of the house with Mr. Baker.
“Come on, Simone. She’s still here. You still have to fight,” I encouraged myself. I shuffled to Nori’s nursery and found her standing in the bed with her hands around the bars for support. She squealed and bounced up and down upon seeing me.
“Mama, Mama, Mama,” she repeated before blowing a raspberry.
I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Well, good morning to you, too, love bug. Are you hungry?” Her response was more raspberries. I felt her pull up and perked up when she was dry. “Let’s go to the potty first,” I said, sweeping her into my arms. We made it just in time. I did the happy potty dance while she smiled and clapped at my antics.
Moments later, she was cleaned up and propped in her highchair.