I picked up Surrogacy Today and held it open in front of me, like a sign. I skimmed the pages until I found an article I liked. “Stories of Success: Bringing the Gift of Life to an Infertile Couple.” This was a profile of two different surrogates who both loved being able to make another couple’s dream come true. The first surrogate did it once and then moved on to have her own family. The second lady did surrogacy as a career. She’d already done it three times, and she hoped to squeeze in one more if her body would let her. She must have made enough for a house and a car. All I wanted was to finish college debt-free, and as much as I loved everybody at the dog daycare, I wanted a better-paying job.

I looked around the waiting room to see if anyone noticed what I was reading. I held the magazine a bit higher. There was an article about the medical costs, a list of legal dos and don’ts, and lots of ads from surrogacy agencies. Hal and Ruth hadn’t used an agency, they’d told me, because it would have limited their options for finding the right surrogate. And Hal had told me later that it would have resulted in less money in my pocket, since the agency would take a cut of the fee.

Hal had asked me what kind of career I was thinking about. I told him accounting because I was good at math. He seemed pleasantly surprised by that answer, and he offered to help me find an internship after I got back in school. I got a sense that he wanted me to put his money to good use. He seemed to actually care. Once we met at a coffee shop near his office, and he gave me a list of accounting firms he’d researched that had summer internships for college students.

“When is Hal getting here?” I asked Ruth. We couldn’t do this without him.

She looked at her watch and shrugged. “Should be any minute.”

Finally, a nurse walked out and said, “Cally Scott.”

“That’s me.” I dropped the magazine and smiled at Ruth. She would wait for Hal and see me afterward.

“Come this way, honey.” The nurse walked in front of me and I noticed her wide hips.

I stepped on the scale for my weight. In the exam room, I stuck out my arm for the blood pressure wrap, and I undressed and hopped up on the table as instructed. Someone knocked on the door, and I adjusted the blue paper to cover as much of me as possible.

“Come in,” I said.

Dr. Salovich burst into the room holding a folder. “How are we today?” he asked. Dr. Salovich had a bushy full head of gray hair, a large mole on his cheek, and a take-charge attitude.

“Excited,” I said. “Today’s the day.”