Page 27 of The Surrogate Nanny
She popped her head into the living room. “It’s me.”
“Is everything okay? It’s late. Is your room comfortable?”
“Is my room comfortable? I never thought it was possible to sleep on a mattress so soft. It’s beyond comfortable. Thanks for asking. I just...new place...I’m finding it difficult to sleep, and I’m thinking about everything I must do to break my lease and settle my apartment.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a hassle. I’ll hire movers when you’re ready to get the remainder of your belongings.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Of course, I do. According to your contract, moving expenses were also covered.”
“Right. Well, I won’t continue to bother you-”
“You’re not a bother. Come and join me,” I urged, standing to fix her a drink.
“I guess one drink won’t hurt. Plus, we need to discuss baby-proofing the house,” she commented, glancing warily at the fire poker near the fireplace.
“Ah. The dreaded babyproofing where you must wrap everything in bubble wrap and lock all doors and cupboards,” I said, chuckling at the imagery.
“Pretty much,” she agreed, accepting the glass from me before perching on the couch with a leg tucked underneath her.
“Salud,” I said, offering my glass to her in a toast. I laughed when Simone started sputtering and gasping after a single sip. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely not. This is awful,” she complained with a sour look.
“I apologize. How about a nice dessert wine?”
“I’ve never had dessert wine before,” Simone confessed.
“Prepare to be amazed,” I said, leaving the couch again to fix her beverage. Simone’s face twisted in confusion when I handed her the small glass. “Trust me. This will be sufficient. I suggest taking a tiny sip.” I watched her as she brought the glass to her full lips.
“Oof. That’s sweet. No wonder it’s called a dessert wine. I can substitute this for a piece of cake.”
“Then it has served its purpose.” We sat in companionable silence for several minutes. From how she rubbed the back of her neck and shoulders, I could tell she was uncomfortably deep in thought. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Can you tell me about your wife?”
My eyes widened in shock. “My wife?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up. I’m sure mentioning her brought back painful memories. You never spoke of her before, and she’s half of Nori...so....”
“I see. I’ve come to peace with her death. It was three years ago.”
“How did she pass, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Cancer,” I answered before taking another gulp of my spirit.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I remember being so angry at her for a long time. She was such a free spirit. She couldn’t stay planted for long. She was always traveling, whether I was with her or not—she had the spirit of a nomad, but it made her happy, and as long as she was happy, then I was happy. I was ready for kids, but she wasn’t. She still wanted to travel and felt kids would get in the way. She kept reassuring me that we had time, and what’s the rush? So, I let her be. Not soon after, we discovered she had Stage 3 cancer—pancreatic—the worst kind. I wanted her to fight it and undergo chemo and radiation, but she refused. She said she wanted to live the rest of whatever life she had left to travel. She died three months later.”
I paused to wipe away a few stray tears with my thumb. A few escaped, requiring the back of my hand. “I found out at the reading of her will that she gifted me her eggs that she had frozen.”
“Oh, my God. Is that why she didn’t undergo treatment?” Simone gasped.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah...that’s why. She wanted me to have our child or children when I was ready. I felt like a dirtbag for spending all that energy being mad at her, and she sacrificed potentially extending her life to give me what I wanted. That’s why I was willing to do whatever it took to get Nori back. She was mine—a gift to me from my late wife, and I couldn’t let her down.”
“Fuck...I really want to keep hating you,” Simone mumbled.