Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“ I swear, just smelling your mom’s pastries improves my mood.” Addison held the cup up to her nose and inhaled. “How does she do it?”
“I couldn’t tell you. You know I can’t bake to save my life.”
Addison took a long sip of her drink and peered at her. “Maybe Savannah has the gene.”
Charlotte snorted. “She just learned how to boil eggs. She’s a long way away from baked goods.”
Addison swung her gaze back to the bakery and frowned. “I hope Emily is training someone who can take over.”
Charlotte took a sip of her coffee and sighed when it trickled down her throat. “So, you want to tell me what’s actually on your mind? Because I know you love my mom’s baking, but we both know that isn’t what this is about.”
Addison shifted so she was blocking the bakery from view. “Mason and I have been going to the fertility clinic, and we keep flipping through the folders…”
Charlotte squeezed Addison’s hand, and the two of them set off at a brusque pace down Main Street, strolling past the group of people lined up outside the Red Horse Inn.
“So, you haven’t found anyone who’s suitable?”
Addison took another sip of her drink and lifted a hand to her face to shield her eyes from the sun. “The problem is they’re all qualified. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they’re too qualified. I don’t even know if that’s a thing.”
Charlotte slowed her pace to match Addison’s. “What do you mean?”
“No family illness, no current health problems. All of them are intelligent and attractive, and a lot of them aren’t in relationships,” Addison explained, her free hand fluttering to her side. “It all feels very impersonal and transactional.”
“No offense, but isn’t it the point though? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with surrogacy, but it’s kind of like a business deal.”
Except it was one that ended with a new life being brought into the world.
The whole concept still blew Charlotte’s mind, even if she found herself warming up to it. She couldn’t deny that the thought of bringing a tiny little bundle of joy into the world felt good.
It felt like having a purpose.
But Charlotte didn’t dare voice her feelings out loud, especially not when she was still weighing her options. Until then, she couldn’t bring Addison into the loop, even though she wasn’t used to keeping secrets from her.
She and Addison had been thick as thieves since meeting at college.
Addison sighed. “Yeah, I know it is, but I want it to feel a little more personal. This woman is supposed to be carrying our child. I don’t want her to feel like an incubator.”
Charlotte choked on her drink and stopped to take a napkin out of her pocket. “I’m sure they don’t feel that way.”
Do they?
Addison stopped walking and shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, I can’t keep criticizing everyone, so I let Mason pick someone, and we’re supposed to meet her today.”
Charlotte’s heart missed a beat. “That’s good, right?”
“I don’t know. Mason has been struggling a little with his firm…you know how hard consultancy is, and even though I’m back to being full time at the gallery, it just doesn’t seem like the right time.”
Charlotte placed one hand on either side of Addison’s shoulders and waited for her to lift her gaze. “That is fear talking. You’ve been wanting to be a mom for as long as I’ve known you. You were practically planning your entire life with Mason months after meeting him, and I know you wanted kids right after marriage.”
But her cancer diagnosis had changed everything and turned Addison’s world upside down.
“You can’t give up now,” Charlotte continued in a softer voice. “And just so you know, I won’t let you. I’ll drag you to the meeting myself if I have to.”
Addison let out a nervous laugh. “Maybe you should, so I don’t talk myself out of it.”
Charlotte’s lips lifted into a half smile. “It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”
It had to be.
Addison carried on about the surrogacy, finding new ways to nitpick while they walked around a little more. When Charlotte steered Addison in the direction of Mason’s consultancy firm, Addison was a lot calmer, and she wasn’t gesturing as much. Charlotte walked home, drenched in sweat and with a strange taste in her mouth.
With her roommates out for the evening, Charlotte settled in with a bowl of popcorn, a glass of white wine, and a blanket draped over her legs. But when she couldn’t settle on something to watch, she got up and went into her room. She kept glancing over her shoulders and listening for the door. Then, she took the surrogacy brochures out of her desk drawer and took them to the living room.
Both cats were sound asleep on top of the couch when she sat back down.
The pictures on the brochure were of happy-looking women with bulging baby bellies and a beaming couple next to them. Charlotte traced the outer edges of the brochures, her fingers trembling with anticipation.
She couldn’t believe she was seriously considering this.
But she’d spent the past two weeks thinking about it.
And the more she did, the more she liked the idea of being the key to someone else’s happiness. Having spent the past few years on autopilot, alternating between throwing herself at work and looking out for her mom and sister, it felt good to be back in the driver’s seat again. It made her feel like her old self, the one who was fearless and brave and unafraid of the world.
The piece of Charlotte that had died when her father did.
Was it really coming back to life?
Or was she latching on to someone else’s dream to give her life purpose?
With her mom dating someone new, Savannah preparing for med school, and Addison eager to welcome a baby in her life, Charlotte couldn’t help but glance at her own life and feel like something was missing.
Or someone.
Everyone else was moving on with their lives and finding new dreams, but Charlotte worried that a part of her was considering this for the wrong reasons.
This is crazy. You don’t even get to keep the baby, remember? And besides, you don’t even want kids of your own.
Still, as Charlotte sat there, skimming through the brochures and stroking her stomach, she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her.
When she stood to glance at herself in the full-length mirror by the front door, she ran a hand over her smooth and flat stomach. Then, she glanced around the gray-colored living room, taking in the mismatched couch set that overlooked an old fireplace that didn’t work and the TV propped on the mantel. She’d been in this living room hundreds of times throughout her life, and she liked that it was the exact same, a testament to the stability and predictability of the life around her.
Much like her own life, very little had changed in her great-grandparents’ house.
Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different.
Why was this room, of all places, making her think of the choice she had to make?
As Charlotte let her thoughts wander, she realized she was the different one. Like a jagged piece of the puzzle, she was on the precipice of something great, something that meant she was outgrowing her old self.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
Change was inevitable; it was constant—one of the few things she could count on.
A moment later, the doorbell rang, startling her out of her reprieve. She tossed the brochure onto the couch and peeked through the peephole, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Patrick in the doorway, carrying containers of food.
Her stomach grumbled as she threw the door open. “I didn’t know you moonlighted as a Chinese delivery guy.”
Patrick chuckled. “I don’t, but I ran into the guy on the way over and offered to bring it up.”
She raised an eyebrow and took a step to the side, allowing him to pass and offering her a whiff of his woodsy cologne, like sage and cedarwood. Charlotte sucked in a deep breath and slammed the door shut a little harder than she intended. With a wince, she twisted to face Patrick, who had peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch.
“You were just in the neighborhood?”
Patrick began to take out the containers of food. “Yeah, and I wanted to talk to you about a joint project between the science and drama department.”
Charlotte crossed over to him and rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this already. Our two departments don’t mix.”
“There’s a chapter on bacteria and germs,” Patrick pointed out, pausing to brush some lint off the collar of his button-down shirt. “We could find a way to work that in with some of the events of Les Misérables . Didn’t Fantine contract tuberculosis and die?”
Charlotte went into the kitchen and selected two plates from the dryer. “You really want to teach a bunch of seventh graders about tuberculosis? Isn’t that depressing?”
Patrick peered through the containers. “It is, but it’s also a type of bacteria worth studying.”
Charlotte came back into the living room and then ducked back into the kitchen for cutlery. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know if there’s enough food.”
“You ordered enough to feed a small army.”
Charlotte’s face turned bright red. “I’m not much of a cook, so I like to get extra in case I’m in the mood for leftovers.”
Patrick lowered himself onto the couch and propped his feet up. “Just call me leftovers, then. As long as you feed me, I don’t care.”
Charlotte’s heart was jumping around inside of her chest.
It had been a while since Patrick had come over and even longer since he’d sat down for an extended conversation. When she sat down next to him, she kept thinking about how easy it would be to lean over and brush the errant lock of hair out of his eyes. Or how much she wanted to lean sideways and have him wrap his arm around her.
Easy there, girl. Patrick is your friend, remember?
She tried to shove the thought out of her head and returned to the food—and the handsome science teacher sitting across from her. They were halfway through the food and debating the merits of public and private school when the door clicked open. Her roommates, Heather and Gigi, came in, carrying shopping bags in each hand and with sweat shining on their foreheads.
Patrick immediately jumped to help them.
“Such a gentleman.” Heather patted his hand and gave him a bright smile. “I can’t believe no one has scooped you up yet, Patrick.”
He carried the bag into the kitchen and left it there. “I’m just waiting for the right woman.”
Gigi carried her bags to her room. “She might be closer than you think.”
Charlotte glared at their backs as they carried the rest of the bags inside, studiously avoiding her gaze the entire time. Once they were gone, she turned back to Patrick and forced a smile to her face.
“Sorry about them.” Charlotte linked her fingers together and exhaled. “They don’t know how to mind their own business, unfortunately.”
Patrick sat back on the couch and took one of the brochures out from between the pillows, where it was wedged. “You working on a project?”
Charlotte’s heart raced as she snatched it out of his hand. “A novel.”
Patrick nodded. “Cool. Well, I should get going. I have to take Milo for a walk before he chews through the floor.”
Charlotte got up to walk him to the door, pausing to wipe her hands on the back of her jeans. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Patrick twisted to face her, and his eyes darted down to her mouth and then back up to her face. “I love dropping by.”
Charlotte’s breath hitched in her throat. “Really?”
Patrick bridged the distance between them and opened his mouth. Then, one of the cats wedged itself between them and meowed, bringing the moment to an abrupt halt. Blinking, Patrick bent down to scratch the cat behind the ear and murmur something under his breath. Then, he gave Charlotte one more smile before he left.
Two days later, during another family game night, this time at her great-aunt Rebecca’s house, Charlotte was still thinking about the almost kiss.
And when the topic of Liam and Laura’s postponed wedding came up, Charlotte found her mind wandering to the question of surrogacy.
But she was having a harder and harder time dismissing it as a bad idea.
Are you really going to go through with this?