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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

“Holding the door for me?” she said in that voice I hated. A flirty-ass, know-it-all voice. And I hated when Cally tried to make me into something I wasn’t. Romantic. Smart. Polite. She saw things no one else saw. Because they weren’t there.

“Stop it,” I said, getting pissed. I locked the cabin, and we got in the truck, still messy from us sleeping in it. When I turned the ignition, the clock lit up: 2:41 p.m.

“So late already,” said Cally.

“That’s another reason I don’t want kids,” I said. “Everything takes longer.”

“Did your mother tell you that?” Cally balanced the baby as she fastened her seat belt.

I ignored that question. Cally and my mom didn’t get along, but I never liked Cally criticizing her. “So where am I going?”

“We just need a Target or a Sam’s Club or something like that.”

“So, Duluth,” I said. Duluth was about twenty minutes away.

“Sure,” she said.

Cally held the baby in her lap as the truck bumped over the snowy roads; the trees were covered in white, the gas station, pie shop, all covered in white. I took the same route from last night, but this time we could see where we were. The main street, center of Superior, the farms, then the landmarks of Duluth: the harbor, the container ships, and the High Bridge.

We crossed into Minnesota, and Cally smiled at me. I knew what she was thinking. We’d been to Duluth a few times before, on a field trip from school, a skiing weekend with a bunch of my friends, once for Thanksgiving at my cousin’s, and once just the two of us for a New Year’s Eve at the Radisson.

The night we spent at the Radisson was a lot of fun. All we did was fuck and order takeout. We’d turned on the TV only to watch the ball drop in Times Square. We slept in late, and when we woke up, we got busy again. We were in the middle of fucking when a cleaning lady walked in on us. We laughed after she left, but it was a turn-on, to be honest.

Now we were surprised—and not surprised—to see people on the streets. It had to be about eight degrees outside. People were bundled up and waiting at the corner for the stoplight to turn. Where was everyone going on a frigid Saturday? “I think the mall’s up this hill,” I said.

“I can ask this guy,” said Cally, rolling down her window.

“No,” I said, speeding ahead as soon as the light turned. “I know where I’m going.” The truck handled the snowy hill easily, and sure enough, there was the mall. The parking lot was a fucking mess. Giant mounds of snow and crooked rows of cars. I found a spot and shut off the engine.