The Surrogate: A short story by Shubricca L Bell. Part 4


I was able to fly to North Carolina to help celebrate my baby brothers first birthday. It was good to see my family in person. The last few months have been rough. Harold has been trying to stay in good spirits, but the fact that Lucy has only been given six months to live weighs heavy on both of their hearts. Lucy and Harry are an older white couple, around my mom’s age.

After the gestational surrogacy was a success. Lucy and Harold had a “We’re pregnant” party, with a small group of family and friends. When a few of their friends and family came to the party, they were shocked to find out that a twenty four year old black woman was carrying the Peterson’s baby. Her mom thought that I was the maid, and asked me to clean up a tea spill in the conservatory. When Harold’s best friend arrived he handed me his coat, and his wife also handed me her coat and her purse to hang in the foyer. 

Lucy rushed over and explained that I wasn’t the maid, and in fact, I was the surrogate. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry dear,” her mom said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Harold’s best friend said, before I cut him off. “It’s fine,” I said. His wife also apologized. 

“It’s okay, really,” I said. Lucy pulled me to the side and also apologized. I told her that it was alright. She explained that her family and friends had confused me with the other workers that were hired for the party. “I understand,” I said, but I really didn’t. 

All of the workers, who were of all races, wore a uniform. I wore a cap shoulder top and button detail cocktail dress. It wasn’t designer or anything, but it was nice, and it wasn’t cheap. I’m not rich like the Peterson’s, and their circle, but I come from a well to do home. My mom has worked from home as a medical director for years, and she makes a healthy six figures every year. 

Lucas is a dentist, and has his own private practice. I realize that my mom’s money isn’t my money. I am grown now, and have been for some years, but it took me a while to mature mentally, but I’m glad that I finally got it together. One day, I want to leave a great legacy behind, so today, I have to make a name for myself. Someday I want love, marriage, and kids of my own. 

At one point in time, love was all I wanted, but now I’m more focused on being happy, loving who I am, and taking care of myself. I am finding myself everyday. It was hard trying to find myself when I was younger, because there were too many distractions. I do think about love from time to time, but I have faith that whenever it’s my time for love, it will happen. I’ve been reading the Bible a lot lately too. 

I didn’t grow up in church or anything, but mom taught me about God. I’m trying to better my relationship with Him, because life is tough when trying to deal with issues on your own. I’m just grateful for all the things He’s brought me through. Never in a million years would I have guessed that I’d be a surrogate, but I know it’s my purpose. At first it was all about money, but now it’s about life. I did make a $100,000.00 from being a surrogate for my mom and Lucas though.

The Peterson’s are paying me $200,000.00, and free room and board, a car that takes me anywhere I need to go, free meals, and anything else I need while carrying their child. I am enjoying my life. My friend who has been a surrogate for a celebrity family for three of their kids, told me about Harold and Lucy. She’s the one who had me connected with them.

Harold is a world renown plastic surgeon, and before Lucy became ill, she served as director of several departments at UCLA, and she was also professor of business and engineering. Although they’re very well known, they like to keep their personal life private. Harold is the plastic surgeon for one of the celebrities that my friend was a surrogate for. Thank God for good connections. This baby has me eating the craziest things.

It’s two in the morning and I’m craving pizza with anchovies, pineapple, and pickles. I went downstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat, and Harold was seated at the table drinking cognac and crying. I tried to tip toe back upstairs, but he heard me. “It’s okay,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry. 

I’m just going to go back upstairs,” I said. “Don’t be silly. Come and do whatever it is that you were going to do,” he said. “Okay, I said. Is there by chance, any pizza with anchovies, pineapple, and pickles here?” I said. “What?” Harold said, with a laugh. 

“Is that what you’re craving?” he said. “I am,” I said with a laugh. “Well, I need to get out of the house anyway,” he said with a smile before leaving to go get my pizza. I went back upstairs. Lucy was in pain, but she was watching her favorite television show. 

“Davi,” she said in a dry, tired voice. “Hey, Lucy. Do you need anything?” I said, peeping in the door. “No, I’m fine. She patted the side of the bed. 

“Come lay with me please,” she said. I sat beside her. She cuddled beside me and began to rub my belly. I smiled. “Thank you for everything,” she said. 

“I may not live to see our child being born, but knowing that I have a child is enough to keep me at peace.” I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say the right words that would make everything okay. I wanted to assure Lucy that God would allow her to see her baby. I wanted God to heal Lucy, but I didn’t know His plans. 

I could only remain silent. We continued to look at her favorite show, which was disgusting to me. The show was about a doctor who popped huge pimples for a living. Lucy laughed at how disgusted I was, and I laughed because I couldn’t believe how into the show she was. Harold came back. “What’s going on here?” he said, with a smile. “Looks like a pizza party. 

What do we have?” Lucy said. “A large pizza with anchovies, pineapple, and pickles,” Harold said. “Sounds yummy,” Lucy said. Harold sat the pizza on the bed, and we all got a slice. They were impressed with how good the pizza tasted. 

The three of us continued to watch the show, eat pizza, and enjoy each other’s company. A couple of hours later, when they both fell asleep, I quietly went to my room. The next three months, I made it my business to get Lucy out of the house. I got with Harold to plan different activities that we could all enjoy together. Some days were better than others. 

On days when Lucy wasn’t doing too good, she’d tell Harold to go with me, and have fun. He never went though, and neither did I. I found activities that we could do at home. Even if Lucy couldn’t physically participate, she’d smile and watch, as Harold and I played board games, or play music and dance. I loved Lucy and Harold like family.

By month seven, Lucy had gotten better, but I began to have complications with the pregnancy. I had to be on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy, but Lucy and Harold was great as usual. A few days before my due date, mom flew to L.A. to be with me.

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