The Surrogate (13 page)

“Perhaps the professor is waiting until you have completed all the lessons,” the housekeeper suggested, her tone less conciliatory than before.

“Am I even enrolled in the course?” Jamie demanded. “Or did you somehow manage to get a copy of the lessons just so you could keep me busy and I’d have less time to ponder the fact that I am being treated like a criminal in a prison? Come to think of it, the check I wrote to pay for the course has yet to show up on my bank statement.”

Without waiting for a response, Jamie turned heel and, with a pounding heart, marched from the room.

Back in her room, she opened a desk drawer and pulled out her copy of the contract she had signed. Yes, if she read the legalese carefully, she could see that she was indeed prohibited from having any contact with individuals or entities not directly involved with her day-to-day life on the Hartmann Ranch. No contact at all. Lenora had said as much when they went over the contract, but Jamie had not understood how absolute her isolation was going to be.

Probably calling the secretary of the attorney who had drawn up such a document had been a stupid idea anyway. Bentley Abernathy was the Hartmann family’s attorney. His job—and that of his secretary—was to look after the Hartmanns’ interests. Jamie realized that she should have hired her own attorney and had him or her look over the contract before she signed it. As it was, she didn’t have anyone looking after her interests. Not anyone at all.

Even if she wanted to contact a lawyer after the fact and ask about her legal options, she would not be allowed to do so. Moreover, if she told someone that she was carrying a child for Amanda Hartmann, she forfeited her right to all that money, which was the whole point of her entering into the arrangement in the first place.

But if Amanda planned to pass the baby off as one to which she herself had given birth, security became an even greater issue, Jamie realized. Probably Amanda wanted to make sure the surrogate mother of her child didn’t call some tabloid and offer to sell her story for more money than Amanda planned to pay her.

Jamie put the contract back in the drawer, wishing she had never heard of the Hartmann family.

The week before Christmas, Jamie woke to the sound of howling wind. She took Ralph into the backyard but decided that she would forgo her morning walk. She looked over the assigned readings for her next correspondence-course lesson, trying to decide if she would bother with them. She didn’t even have copies of the lessons she had completed. She had her notes, however. If she did decide to retype them and complete the additional lessons, she could deliver the completed course in person to the professor in Austin—after she had served out her sentence on this godforsaken ranch.

For now, though, she gave herself over to watching a morning’s worth of mindless television programs.

At noon her lunch arrived. As Jamie placed the tray on the coffee table, she felt a strange sensation in her abdomen. Like a bird fluttering around inside of her.

She put a hand on her stomach. But the sensation had ceased.

She waited a minute to see if it was going to happen again. For several seconds she waited. Maybe it was just her stomach protesting its emptiness. Or a muscle spasm.

She sat down, switched on the television, and took a bite of the turkey sandwich.

Then it happened again.

“Oh, my gosh!” she said, placing both hands over her protruding belly.

The fluttering lasted longer this time, for several seconds. And Jamie knew what she was feeling. It was
life.

Of course, the baby had been alive all along, but she hadn’t felt it before. She recalled the word that Mary Millicent and Nurse Freda had used.
Quickening.

She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the sandwich for a second bite. She just sat there, staring at nothing.

For a long time she sat there. Not thinking. Not eating. Finally, though, she picked up the sandwich and took another bite. And another. Then she pushed the tray away and headed for the bedroom, where she wrapped herself up in a blanket and lay across the bed.

She slept for a time, waking to the sound of the wind, which seemed even more ferocious than before. An afternoon walk was out of the question. She stretched and was trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day, when it happened again. Movement. More pronounced than before. She imagined a tiny arm or leg moving about. A tiny human being flexing its muscles. She wanted to yell at it to stop. If it was going to start moving around like this, there was no way she could continue ignoring what was going on inside of her.

She buried her face in a pillow and began to cry. She wanted the baby to go away. She didn’t want it moving around in there. But she didn’t want it to die either, and if it went away it would die.

Dear God in heaven, what have I done?

Ralph jumped up on the bed and began licking her face. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his coarse hair. “What are we going to do, Ralphie? What
are
we going to do?”

Finally, she calmed herself, feeling a bit ashamed that she had overreacted in such a way. It was time for her to face up and grow up. Of course the baby moved. It was supposed to move, supposed to grow, and eventually get itself born. She had put off dealing emotionally with her situation long enough. She was now five months’
pregnant.
A small living creature was swimming around in her uterus. A baby. A human baby.

She was not to think of it as
her
baby. She had signed a contract saying that in exchange for a handsome amount of money, she agreed to forfeit her legal rights to the child. In the eyes of the law, he or she would belong to Amanda Hartmann and Toby Travis. Biologically, she was the mother, however. And Toby was the biological father.

Unless what Mary Millicent had said about Sonny was true.

Which was too far-fetched to be believed.

Jamie wondered what life would be like for the child she was carrying, other than being raised amid extreme wealth and never wanting for anything. She did not doubt that Amanda and Toby would love the child. She did worry, however, that much of the child’s upbringing would be left to Miss Montgomery or a nursemaid while Amanda, with Toby at her side, traveled about saving souls and raising money for political candidates handpicked by her Alliance. And Jamie wondered how she would feel if the child that she was now carrying followed in Amanda’s footsteps and someday told a national television audience how God wanted them to live and think and vote. Would she feel proud? Or would it make her squirm?

That night, it was Jamie who initiated the middle-of-the-night visit with Mary Millicent. She crept down the hall to the chapel, then she pushed open the hidden door, felt around for the light switch, and climbed the bare wooden stairs to the first of the two tower rooms. A dim light glowed from behind the curtain that divided the room. She slipped behind the curtain and stared down at the emaciated face of the unfortunate young man lying there. All the family riches had not protected him from grave misfortune.

She pulled back the covers, lifted one of his hands, and placed it on her belly. “Is that your baby in there?” she whispered.

Then she leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.

He had been greatly loved, she thought as she backed away from the bed. Perhaps she would have loved him, too, had she had a chance to know him. She wondered if, in spite of being the heir to a vast fortune or maybe because of it, Sonny Hartmann had also known what it was like to be an outsider.

She climbed the stairs to Mary Millicent’s room. Once she had reached the top, she stood for a time, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The sound of soft snoring reached her ears. She waited until her eyes adjusted and she could make out the outline of the bed, then tiptoed across the room. “Mary Millicent,” she said, leaning over the sleeping form.

When the old woman did not respond, Jamie felt around for her hand. “Hey, Mary Millicent, it’s Jamie, the girl from downstairs.”

“I know who you are,” Mary Millicent said in a hoarse whisper. “Did the witch see you?”

“No,” Jamie said, turning on a bedside lamp. “I wanted to tell you that the baby moved today.”

“You came all the way up here to tell me that?”

“Well, yes,” Jamie said, helping the woman to a sitting position. “You asked me if I had felt any quickening, and I thought you might be interested to know that it had, indeed, occurred.”

“Well, it was bound to happen unless the baby was dead,” Mary Millicent said, struggling to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Jamie helped get her situated and extracted her bunched-up nightgown from underneath her hips.

“So, this is where you live,” said Jamie, taking a look around the room. Like the room below, a pair of narrow windows was set in each of the room’s eight sides. The floor was bare wood, and the walls were painted white. A rack of clothing and a chest of drawers stood by the stairwell railing. A shelf held a large television set. In the middle of the room was a round mahogany table with claw feet and two matching chairs. On the other side of the bed were a sink, a portable toilet, a trash can, and a rectangular table that held a box of adult diapers, a large plastic container of wipes, a stack of towels, and another of washcloths. Jamie was surprised to see an old-fashioned wood-and-wicker wheelchair parked by the head of the bed. Then she remembered Mary Millicent’s claim that Miss Montgomery thought she could not walk. The nurse, too.

“Do you really use the wheelchair?” she asked.

Mary Millicent nodded. “All the time.”

“Well, aren’t you the sly one!” Jamie said.

“You got it, sister,” Mary Millicent said with pride, and offered Jamie a high five.

Jamie sat on the bed beside the old woman. “How long have you lived up here?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Could be one year or a hundred for all I know. They started putting me up here just when there were guests in the house—after Amanda got all upset when I showed up at a dinner party wearing just a hula skirt. I think someone really important was there—like a king or a movie star. Then I was sick for a long time and couldn’t move or talk, and for a long time after that I was too weak to walk. But when I got stronger again, I jus’ kept on pretending to be weak. Sometimes when Amanda and Gus are here, they have one of the Mexican gardeners carry me downstairs so I can have dinner with them in the dining room. I like having men carry me. I like the feel of their muscles and the smell of their sweat,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes I reach down and pat their pee-pee. You should see the look on their faces when I do that. They don’t know if they should scream or laugh. I miss doing it with a man. I miss it a lot.”

Jamie listened to Mary Millicent’s outpouring in open-mouthed wonder. She didn’t know if she should put her fingers in her ears or laugh out loud. When Mary Millicent finally stopped, Jamie said, “You are one outrageous old woman.”

Mary Millicent put her hands on her hips. “Well, what of it?”

Jamie had to laugh.
What of it, indeed?
She put a hand over her mouth, fearful of making too much noise, but continued to laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. And then she stopped abruptly, putting a hand to her belly. She grabbed Mary Millicent’s hand and placed it under hers. “Can you feel it?”

“Yep. Feels like the kid has the hiccups.”

“Isn’t that just wonderful?” Jamie said in awe.

“Not particularly.”

Jamie put her arms around Mary Millicent Tutt Hartmann, retired evangelist and outrageous old lady, and said, “Oh, but you’re wrong. Baby hiccups are wonderful, and so are you.”

T
HE NEXT DAY
, there was a midafternoon knock on her door.

Amanda and Toby were standing in the hallway, their arms full of gift-wrapped packages. “Merry Christmas,” they said in unison.

Jamie returned their greeting and invited them in. Ralph backed away from the door, unsure of what his reaction should be to the two strangers invading his domain.

Amanda paused and looked around the room. “You’ve changed things quite a bit,” she observed, her tone a bit less warm.

“Yes,” Jamie agreed, somewhat surprised that Amanda even recalled how the rooms had been decorated. She started to say that she hoped Amanda didn’t mind her changes but stopped herself. What happened in these two rooms was the only part of her life over which she had any control, and she wasn’t going to apologize.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Toby said, “You’re looking well, Jamie.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“We brought you a few gifts,” Amanda said as she and Toby placed the packages on the table.

“That’s very kind of you,” Jamie responded. “Won’t you sit down?”

Amanda and Toby both seated themselves on the sofa. “Mostly the gifts are things you might need when you start your new life,” Amanda said with an airy wave toward the packages. “We wanted you to have something to open Christmas morning. I know how lonesome it must be for you here—especially during the holidays—and I feel terrible that I haven’t been able to spend more time with you. I so enjoyed our little visit when I was here last month.”

What a handsome couple they were, Jamie thought with genuine admiration. Toby was muscular and fit, his hair a bit lighter than it had been last summer, his skin tan in spite of the season. Both were wearing jeans, turtleneck sweaters, and expensive-looking western boots. They sat close to each other, their thighs touching, and holding hands. Amanda’s fleecy white sweater was long and loose-fitting, making it impossible for Jamie to judge whether she was expecting a child or not. She considered inquiring about her condition but decided against it. The woman was either pregnant or she was not. It was none of Jamie’s concern.

Ralph crept toward the two guests warily, his tail wagging. Toby reached out and scratched his head. “What an unusual dog,” he said. “What kind is it?”

“Just a mutt, but a very sweet one,” Jamie said.

“Freda says that you and the baby are both doing splendidly,” Amanda said, clasping her hands together and smiling broadly. “Freda now has five obstetrical patients, and we decided that it was time that we buy sonogram equipment for the clinic. The sonograms will be sent by computer to the university medical center in Amarillo to be read by an expert, like the X-rays she takes. So many more things are possible now with computers.”

Jamie nodded.

“Actually, I want you to go to the clinic tomorrow so Freda can do a sonogram on you. I can’t wait to actually
see
the baby. Knowing that I will be a mother once again has helped heal my broken heart and filled it once again with joy. You can’t imagine the heartbreak of losing a child, Jamie. It is the worst thing that can happen to a woman.”

Jamie thought that was a strange thing for Amanda to be saying to the woman she was paying to give up a child.

“Toby and I pray for you every day,” Amanda said. Beside her Toby was smiling his agreement.

Jamie was surprised when Amanda rose from the sofa and came to kneel in front of her and take her hands. “We pray for you, dearest Jamie, not just because you are carrying our child,” Amanda said, “but because we care about you and want you to feel good about what you are doing.”

Jamie felt herself falling under Amanda’s spell, as she had when the two of them were sitting on the window seat in the library. Amanda’s voice was so soothing. Her eyes as clear and blue as sapphires. Her hair smooth and shining. Her lips moist and full. Amanda was lovely and seemed so very sincere.

Jamie wanted to put her head on Amanda’s shoulder and feel the comfort of her embrace. And, as though the woman could read her mind, she felt Amanda drawing her close and placing a cheek against hers. Jamie closed her eyes and relished this unexpected moment of human contact.

“You’re very lonely, aren’t you?” Amanda said softly into her ear. “But you must remember, my darling Jamie, that you are never alone. You can always confide in our Lord. He is with you always and wants to hear your prayers. He will lead you to the other side of these lonely times and enrich your life for having so dutifully fulfilled your mission here. It is His wish that this very special baby be born. You must remember that always. You can put your trust in Him. Always, my darling girl.
Always.
”

Jamie watched with regret as Amanda rose to her feet. She rose with her, feeling a bit light-headed. Not wanting the moment to end, she asked, “Will I ever see you again afterward?”

“After the baby is born? No, dear child, but I will think of you and pray for you ever single day of my life,” Amanda said, taking Jamie’s face in her hands and looking deeply into her eyes. “And there will be times when you actually
feel
my thoughts and prayers and well wishes. We are irrevocably connected in this life, you and I, and in the next we will also be. Don’t ever forget that, Jamie. Not ever.” Amanda kissed Jamie’s cheek and then her lips and offered her a last smile before holding her hand out to her husband.

Jamie watched the door close behind them and felt as though all the life and air had gone out of the room with them. With Amanda.

Jamie stood there for the longest time, like a statue. Or a person who had forgotten how to move and think.

Nurse Freda was like a child with a brand-new toy as she showed off the new equipment to Jamie. “It’s as good as anything you’d find in any obstetrician’s office in Amarillo,” she said proudly.

Lying flat on her back on the examining table, Jamie was a bit startled at how round her belly was. Freda listened to the baby’s heartbeat then poked around for a bit. Then she covered Jamie’s abdomen with a gel that felt as though it had just come out of a refrigerator and began moving a paddle slowly back and forth over it. Jamie was able to watch the images on the screen. It took a while for her to make out the baby. It was moving languidly in its dark little aquatic world, oblivious to spying eyes. Bentley Abernathy had said she would not be allowed to see the baby or even to know its sex, but she was seeing it now after a fashion. And just in case Freda didn’t know all the rules, she asked, “Can you tell what sex it is?”

“Looks like a boy to me,” the nurse said, pointing to the screen. “There’s his scrotum right there. Yep, a healthy, normal baby boy, all body parts present and accounted for. Amanda and her husband are going to get themselves a fine little fellow.”

She picked up a towel and wiped the gel from Jamie’s abdomen. “I’m finished. You can get dressed now. And don’t forget to pee in a cup. I’ll see you next week.”

Midafternoon, Freda called the radiologist in Amarillo. “Have you had a chance to look at that prenatal ultrasound yet?”

“It’s on my screen now. Looks like a good baby. Male. No discernible anomalies.”

Freda called Amanda at the ranch house. “Congratulations,” she said joyously. “The baby is a normal, healthy boy.”

The day before Christmas, while Jamie was walking Ralph, she watched while the Hartmann plane banked overhead and landed on the ranch landing strip.

That evening she crept down the hall toward the second-floor gallery. Taking great care to remain in the shadows, she moved around the gallery until she could see into the dining hall. Symphonic music wafted softly from hidden speakers. The table was resplendent with crystal and candles. Seated around the table were Amanda and her husband, Miss Montgomery, Mary Millicent in her wheelchair, Nurse Freda, Chief Kelly, and a man Jamie recognized from the pictures in the library. Gus Hartmann had come to the ranch for Christmas.

The next morning, when she took Ralph out into the backyard, Jamie heard singing floating across the frigid morning air—many voices singing “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed…” Harmonious, joyous, well-rehearsed voices singing so beautifully that she had to stop and close her eyes. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold brought chill bumps to the skin on her arms.

It was Christmas. Always before she had been with someone she loved on this day. Memories poured over her. The large tree in the high-ceilinged living room on Galveston Island. Her mother playing carols on the upright piano. Her sister Ginger home from college. The four of them singing together. The Christmas tree at Granny’s house had never been large, but they lovingly decorated it with mostly homemade ornaments. And they sang along with the carols on the radio—including the same carols now being sung by the hidden choir.

Jamie sang along. “It came upon a midnight clear,/ That glorious song of old…” And at just that instant, the baby moved as though to remind Jamie that she was not alone. She carried life within her. Beside her was Ralph with a stick in his mouth, his tail wagging in anticipation. And there was Mary Millicent in her tower. Jamie would creep up there tonight so the two of them could sing Christmas carols together. Jamie glanced upward. The narrow tower windows were golden in the morning sun.

She threw the stick for Ralph, then walked over to the far side of the yard, climbed into the low branches of an oak tree, and peeked over the high brick wall. Dressed in crimson robes, the carolers were standing under the portico. She recognized many of them—the young woman from the ranch store, Anita the cook, the man from the greenhouse, one of the security officers.

Jamie could not see the front door, but the carolers were all looking in that direction. Amanda and Gus Hartmann would be standing there, and Toby, smiles on all their faces as they graciously acknowledged the devotion of their faithful vassals. And probably Miss Montgomery would be hovering nearby, the steadfast family retainer, like a figure from a Dickens novel.

Back in her room, Jamie made herself a cup of hot chocolate and, with the radio tuned to a station playing Christmas music, tried to make a ceremony out of opening the presents that Amanda and Toby had brought—gifts selected to help her start a new life. The first package was a bottle of French perfume cradled in a satin-lined box. Then she opened a box with a sterling silver compact in a leather pouch. The next box held a pink silk peignoir set. A sterling silver bud vase occupied the next box. The last one contained a handsome leather billfold.

The billfold would come in handy, but Jamie found the other gifts puzzling. They had nothing to do with the sort of life she would be leading. Perhaps Amanda wanted her to have some pretty things to relieve the otherwise utilitarian life that most college students led. Or perhaps she had asked a secretary or servant to buy some gifts for a twenty-year-old female.

She put the gifts back in their boxes and stored them under the bed.

She waited until after dinner to visit Mary Millicent.

As soon as she opened the secret door, she heard voices. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she crept halfway up the stairs. The voices were coming from Mary Millicent’s room.

She peered through the railing into Sonny’s room, which was illuminated by the light from dozens of flickering candles. Candles were everywhere—on the windowsills, on the tabletops and bureau, set in trays on the floor—illuminating the still form on the bed.

Jamie wondered if Sonny was dead and the candles were part of a wake. But the catheter tube was still connected to its bag.

She knew that Amanda had done this and that she had sat with her son in the candlelight, holding his hand, kissing his lips, remembering Christmases past when he was a beautiful young man and had his whole life ahead of him.

Jamie wondered how long a person in his condition could be kept alive.

She climbed the last few stairs, tiptoed over to the bed, and touched Sonny’s hand. She agreed with Mary Millicent. It was time for Amanda to let Sonny die, but she also understood why a mother might put off such a decision and instead pray for a miracle.

She had no doubt that Amanda had genuinely loved her son, who had apparently been a very nice young man. Jamie wondered if Sonny had really wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Except she wondered how you know that other people’s religion is wrong for them and that your own would be better. What if all God cared about was that people be good to one another?

Amazed at her own daring, Jamie carefully climbed the second staircase far enough to peek under the railing that guarded the stairwell. A small Christmas tree with twinkling lights stood in the middle of the table. Mary Millicent in her wheelchair was wearing a new sweater with the tags still on it. Sitting with her at the table were Amanda and Gus—her children. Gus was telling a story about their father, recalling the Christmas when he drove their brand-new pony cart right into the great hall. He had been wearing a Santa Claus hat and jingle bells were attached to the pony’s harness.

Feeling very much the intruder, Jamie crept back down the stairs.