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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

“Cally is here.” I looked in his eyes, hoping he’d be happy, even in the midst of this room of sorrow.

“What?” he said too loudly.

Audrey looked at us, as if this were a germane matter that needed her attention. I realized I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret.

“Cally is here,” I said to everyone. “In this hospital. I just saw her.”

“Oh, wow,” said Audrey with only the slightest interest.

“Why? What’s . . . Is the baby okay?” asked Hal.

“The baby wasn’t with her, and I couldn’t get any answers.” I thought about my escorts and wondered if they were eavesdropping. “So I need you to go and ask her.”

Hal tilted his head and pulled it back as if both confused and suspicious.

“She’s in Room 310,” I said, nodding to the door.

Forty-Eight

Cally

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 10, 2002

Morning

Waking up after surgery was like being underwater, how slow everything was, and how out of reach. A heaviness on my chest. I was asking my arms to move, but they wouldn’t. Asking my lips to open.

Sam was there. Beside me. And light behind him. The window was a frame around him. A portrait. I may have been saying nonsense words. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just stay asleep.”

I wanted to tell him so many things. I wanted to ask why he liked me. All I’d been to him so far was a girl in trouble, a mess. Nothing made sense. The other side of the room was dark, with a spot of light, then shadows. Beeps and dripping. My head was sand. Pulling thoughts from sand. I needed to wake up.

A woman walked in. Spoke loudly. Checked the bags of liquid hanging beside me. Took my finger in a pinching machine. Words and numbers. Cheerful questions. When she left, her shoes made loud scuffle sounds. Like sandpaper. I must have giggled.

“What’s so funny, Cally?” asked Sam.

“Is that you?” I said. “You’re nice.”

“Thanks. I try.”

“And easy on the eyes,” I said. I felt drunk. Was I drunk?

“Very nice of you to say,” he said. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

That made me smile. “Can we go home now?” I said.

“I don’t think they’ll let you. Gotta wake up a bit more.”

“Come on, let’s go.” I tried to twist myself to get up.

Sam reached out to hold me down, rubbing my arms. His hands were warm. And strong.