Chapter 1 Lucy #2
‘You’re allowed access to their childhood picture, but not an adult photo. We don’t want people to pay for pretty babies. Can you imagine the lawsuits if we allowed that?’ Kendra chuckled, then cleared her throat. ‘Besides, the vast majority of egg donors remain anonymous.’
Lucy could almost see the men’s wheels turning.
No doubt they’d had visions of everyone involved in their baby’s conception – including the egg donor – at a yearly summer picnic, filled with mini-gourmet sandwiches and a tasteful mimosa bar, swapping the same birth story year after year with attendees.
Well, adjusting seemed to be a common theme in this process.
They wouldn’t see or meet the egg donor.
And Lucy had to make friends with the bride of Satan’s needle. Great.
For the rest of the appointment, Lucy scribbled the med schedule, pros and cons of acupuncture, and starred a reminder to take baby aspirin in her ‘Get a Baby Up in Here’ personalised notebook. After stuffing the pamphlets in her purse, she, Mason, and Drew left.
Stepping outside, the humidity slapped her in the face. ‘Gross. I’m melting.’
August was peak heat season for Minnesota, and she was fully over having perpetually damp skin.
She’d run out of baby powder to use in her bra, and any moment now she was going to have an unfortunate chafing episode.
Maybe this afternoon she’d walk the lush green path lining the St Croix River and stop at an ice cream shop in downtown Stillwater to combat the heat.
‘Just wait until you’re carrying an extra thirty pounds.’ Mason beeped the car lock. ‘I’ll make Drew tail you with one of those mist fans.’
She groaned.
‘Bring it in. Group hug time.’ Drew opened his arms and engulfed Lucy. ‘You still good? Need anything?’
She pushed a gentle hand against his chest. ‘You’ve got to stop asking me that, or I’m going to ask for something that’s seriously bananas.’
‘Anything. Anything you want.’
The sincerity in Drew’s eyes almost killed her.
From the moment she agreed to be a surrogate, the power dynamic in their relationship had shifted.
She went from being the bestie, the jokester, the ‘you’re so not a third wheel’ third wheel to someone Drew and Mason felt like they owed.
They didn’t understand she was doing this as much for herself as for them.
‘Hmmm.’ She strummed her fingers against her chin. ‘A date with Demi Lovato, a Ferris wheel in my backyard, and for you to get a massive chest tattoo that says “Lucy: Still Better Looking Than Me”.’
Drew rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll work on the Ferris wheel.’
‘Come on, Drew. I have to get back to work. Those bridges aren’t going to build themselves.’ Mason chuckled at his all-too-common civil engineering joke and held the door open for his husband. ‘Lucy, we’ll text you later.’
‘Byeeeee!’ She hoisted herself into her truck and headed for Stillwater. One quick stop at the grocery store before spending the day binge-watching Schitt’s Creek, eating terrible food, and having a glass of wine while she still could.
***
Lucy plopped the canvas bags and her purse on the counter and loaded the fridge. Even though a night of nothing but salted chips and cheesy dip sounded good, in a moment of excellent judgement, she had forced herself to buy a few veggies to offset the preservatives.
She stuffed the bags together and grabbed her purse to toss in the closet.
Oh no.
No, no, no, no. The purse was too light. Her fingertips rummaged through the bag. She patted her pockets, scanned the floor, and bolted back to the car. Crap. Did she seriously leave her wallet at the store? In the cart? Did it fall out in the parking lot?
Every pore brimmed with sweat as she swerved through traffic. Her mind raced with things she had to do if it was gone: cancel credit cards, new licence, call the bank, new insurance cards … her stomach knotted. Unless some good Samaritan turned it in …
Ten minutes later, she barrelled through the store entrance and up to the customer service counter. ‘I think I left my wallet here. Rainbow-coloured, trifold. By any chance, did someone turn it in?’ She tapped her fingers against her thigh.
The uninterested teen shuffled his hands underneath the counter, then pulled out the wallet. ‘This?’
Oh, thank the holy dancing queen gods. Good people still existed. ‘Yes! Whew, am I right? What a nightmare that would’ve been.’
A blank stare met her.
After a quick scan, she saw that not only were the credit cards still there, but so was the cash. She death-gripped the wallet against her chest but refrained from smooching the material. ‘Do you know who returned it?’
‘Yeah, I think she might still be here. Tall lady, purple hair. Kinda hard to miss.’ He shrugged.
Lucy stretched her neck. The grocery store was small enough, fewer than twenty aisles.
She’d scoot through a few and see if she could find this woman.
If not, the wallet-finder had a bucket of good karma coming her way.
Lucy peeked down the cereal aisle, bread aisle, and froze when she reached the spice aisle.
‘Kinda hard to miss’ was the understatement of the century. Six feet tall, legs from here to heaven, shaved hair on one side, deep purple hair on the other, full-sleeve tattoo. Freaking beautiful.
The woman scowled at the sauces.
Lucy gulped. I’m going in.