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Back The Surrogate Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Part Two
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Forty-Five
  51. Forty-Six
  52. Forty-Seven
  53. Forty-Eight
  54. Forty-Nine
  55. Fifty
  56. Fifty-One
  57. Part Three
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Fifty-Four
  61. Fifty-Five
  62. Fifty-Six
  63. Acknowledgments
  64. About the Author
  65. About the Publisher

Deena shook her head and looked down. She’d pulled her feet up onto the chair and was hugging her knees, cigarette in one hand. The smoke rose up and mixed with the light from the fixture that hung over the kitchen table, just like when we were kids and our mother sat and chain-smoked all day. “Don’t be stupid,” she said.

In one motion, I stood up and shook the table. I hated when Deena—or anyone—called me stupid.

Deena didn’t flinch. Just grabbed our beers so they wouldn’t tip over. The baby fussed. “Now you woke her up,” said Deena, taking a sip.

I paced around the kitchen, trying to calm down. “There’s probably a reward or some shit. More than five grand.”

“Is there or isn’t there? Or are you just guessing?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I bet that lawyer and his wife would pay dearly. They were gonna pay Cally, so why not?”

“Okay, so take it to them.” Deena put out her cigarette as she stood up. The baby was crying. Deena put a pan of water on. Started another bottle. “You can’t leave her here with me, that’s for damn sure.”

“I know,” I said. “My plan is to bring the kid to them.”

“Then go do it. What are you waiting for?” She finished her beer. The baby’s cries were getting louder.

“What are you waiting for?” I mocked her voice. So annoying. “I’ll tell you what I’m waiting for: I don’t know who they are or where they live.”

“Oh my Lord,” said Deena, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, toward the baby. “You’re stupider than I thought.”

“God DAMN it, Deena.” I slammed my palm on the table.

The baby stopped crying for a second. Everything was still.

Deena came back. She stood in the doorway, holding the baby. Finally, she said, “So you want me to help you?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said finally. “Yes, goddammit.”

The baby wailed. Like she’d forgotten and then remembered what she was mad about. Then cried harder, to make up for it.

“If I do this,” said Deena, pointing at me, “I get half the money.”

Forty

Cally

MONDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2002

Afternoon

On the drive to the Blue Anchor Grill, I wanted to believe I was wrong. Maybe Digger would come back to the cabin. Maybe he’d gone for a very good reason. Maybe he wanted to let me sleep or just went to get some beer. But I knew he wasn’t coming back. He’d taken too much with him.