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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

“Oh, they’ll hold it against whoever wrote the contract,” said Pat, pausing to let that sink in, and we both knew who wrote the contract. “They’ll say that since Hal wrote it, if he wanted to escape liability, he should have put the language in the contract. And since he didn’t, he can’t now claim it.”

“Making him, and us, legally responsible?” I asked.

“Correct,” said Pat. “Does that help? But I’m not a lawyer. I can’t give legal advice.”

“I know, I know,” I said. As I hung up, I smiled because I’d gotten exactly what I’d wanted, and it wasn’t legal advice: it was a solution.

Fifty-Five

Ruth and Cally

MARCH 2003

By the time Ruth pulled up outside Cally’s building, the baby was asleep, and Ruth wondered how she could prove her troubles now. Had she made it all up? All the misery. The colic. In Ruth’s vision of this moment, the way she had rehearsed it in her head, she would present the crying baby, holding her out, as if showing Cally the evidence. Then Cally would take the child and the pain would be relieved. But with the baby sound asleep, Ruth simply unbuckled the car carrier and lugged it to the front door. She rang the buzzer.

“Hello?” said a voice tentatively.

“Um, it’s me. Ruth.” There was a pause on the other end of the static. Squinting against the sun, Ruth wondered if there was a security camera capturing her on Cally’s steps. Ruth wiped her face and took a deep breath. The air was wetter and milder, with a sweetness in its slow promise of spring.

“I’ll be right down,” said Cally finally. When she opened the building’s front door, her mouth dropped. She covered her face, clearly not expecting that Ruth would have brought the baby with her. “What are you doing here?” They hadn’t seen each other since the temporary custody hearing, and the baby hadn’t been in the courtroom.

“Can we come in?” said Ruth, barging through the doorway.

Cally stepped backward into the entryway to make room for Ruth and the car seat. The baby was bigger than she’d been in Cally’s memories. She looked so much older, like someone had put a first-grader into a shrinking machine. Her little head had grown from an orange to a musk melon. Her legs were chunky. She looked like she could step out of that car carrier, march down the stairs, and run away. Cally’s mother was a runner; maybe Nell would be, too.

“Thanks,” said Ruth, letting the heavy door close behind her. The entryway became darker without the bright sun. Ruth took off her hat and ran a hand through her hair.