He was right. We’d made a deal during the drive north from the hospital. After Digger had seen the baby, he’d wanted to turn around and bring us back. He said he didn’t want to get involved in whatever kind of trouble this was. He never wanted to be involved in the surrogacy at all. And now he was just getting his life in place, a good job working for his uncle, even though he never knew when or where the next project would be, but it was good money. He wanted to save enough to buy a house, a fixer-upper he could remodel, maybe rent it out, and eventually flip it. Maybe start a business flipping houses.

I’d needed help getting away from town, hiding out for a few days with the baby before I turned her over. I hadn’t known I’d want to spend extra days with her. I wished I’d put that in the contract. So I offered him a piece of the money to help me. It was worth it. I didn’t have anyone else to call. Maybe Sarah from birth class, but I didn’t know her that well. And besides, I wanted Digger to see Nell. How cute she was. I wanted him to see that this had been a good idea, that I’d been a success.

Before we broke up, he’d wanted me to come down to Missouri with him while he worked. But what would I have done in Missouri? I wanted to go back to Inver Grove Community College. I had credits there. I’d picked out my courses. I’d picked a career. All I needed was the money.

“You’re right,” I said. “I agreed to pay you. And I will.”

“With what?” he said. “If you don’t turn over the kid, they’re not gonna give you that money. And you’ll have to pay them back what they already gave you, right?”

“No, I don’t think so. Besides, I can’t afford that.”

“Damn straight,” he said. “And don’t even think about asking me for it.”

This made me think Digger had made good money down there working construction. He must have built up his savings. Good for him.

“The contract says I can change my mind,” I said.

“Oh, no no no no no no,” said Digger, sitting up again. “We talked about this.”

“Relax. I could turn her over next week and they’ll still want her. I have time.”

“Twenty thousand dollars, Cally.”

“I know,” I said.

“Fifty, actually,” he said. “In total, right?”

“Almost fifty-five,” I said, thinking about that. “So . . . you don’t think I should keep her?”

“Hell, no,” he said. “Take the money. For college and shit.” We sat there on the bed in the quiet cabin, thinking about fifty-five thousand dollars. “You could probably get more at this point,” said Digger.