BooksBarbecue
Back The Surrogate
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

When I get to the top, there’s a ledge with a long slide. I realize I must take it, but I’m afraid I’ll move too fast. At the bottom, I see children in a playground. If I slide down, I might hurt them. Then I look again, and some of the children are dead.

When I woke up, I looked around the dark bedroom, half expecting to see dead children on the floor. God, I wondered what it meant. Where am I headed? The only sound in the condo was the ticking of Hal’s clock, each tick reminding me that I was home, and I was safe. I hadn’t crushed anyone. But I was antsy to get to the hospital. And here I am.

10:47 a.m. Cally is still asleep. I just ate both the coffee cakes I was saving for her. In addition to sex, I’m using food for stress relief. Been eating a lot. Better watch that. Oh! Baby is waking. So precious!

I closed my journal and reached into the bassinet. I had just picked up the baby when I noticed Cally starting to stir, opening her eyes.

“Good morning, momma,” I said sweetly.

Twenty-One

Digger

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2002

Afternoon

Like a psycho, Cally watched me light my cigarette, so I turned my back to the window. My truck was about fifteen feet away. Everything was white and cold. I was wearing my work boots. They were lined with flannel but still not great for this depth of snow. I shifted back and forth to keep warm while I finished my smoke, then dropped the butt in the snow and headed for the door.

When I got inside and stomped off the snow, Cally was standing in the kitchen with the baby on her shoulder. She patted the baby, still looking at me.

“What the hell are you staring at?” I said.

“I dunno . . . you.”

“You like playing house like this, don’t you?” I shook my head.

She flipped me off, just like she did in high school.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I said.

“I won’t,” she said but in a teasing way. Cally knew how I felt about having kids and settling down. I wasn’t interested in any of that until I was set. Probably not till I turned thirty. My mother had drilled it into me: kids take money. Kids can drown you. And I was just getting my head above water. That was one of the things Cally and I agreed on: we both wanted to wait, whether we were together or not.

“You ready to go yet?” I said.

“Yeah.” She was wrapping another layer around Nell. I waited for her to walk outside.