Chapter 9 Lucy
Lucy
‘Do you want me to grab a chunk of your fat and stick it in for you?’ Drew’s voice was kinder than his words. He cocked his head and gazed at Lucy’s bare belly before his eyes turned wide. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘Such a jerk-hole.’ Lucy ground her elbow into his ribs. She brought the paper instructions up to her nose and reread. Again.
The past two weeks had flown by with a barrage of appointments, final stamps of approvals, and late-night chat sessions with Jade. All legal papers were finally signed, the egg donor prepped and now … shots.
And not the tequila kind.
The fluorescent light in Lucy’s bathroom radiated some sort of deep red heat that burned into Lucy’s chest. She grabbed the binder with the med schedule and fanned her face. ‘We got this, right? I mean, we really got this. This will be way less painful than when we got our tattoos.’
Drew dug an alcohol pad package from the box and laid it on the bathroom counter. ‘God, I hope so. I almost passed out.’
‘Oh stop! You so didn’t.’
Drew grinned, the skin around his light green eyes creasing.
‘I really did. I didn’t want to tell you, though, ’cause you were chatting it up the whole time like you were getting a mani-pedi, and I almost threw up.
I couldn’t let you one-up me. But needles …
I had no idea I feared them until I did. ’
Chucky, excluded from the action, whined at the door, but Lucy couldn’t risk any floating dog fur settling into her skin and erupting into some kind of infection. Although with the amount of antibiotics the doctor put her on prior to the embryo transfer, she was probably good.
She picked up the tiny syringe and felt the weight in her fingers.
In the doctor’s office, she’d practised on a silicone ball.
But this was all real. So freaking real, and she released a shaky breath.
Thank God the extra-duty butt ones didn’t start for a few weeks.
She lifted her tank and saw Drew’s face go white. ‘You know – you don’t have to watch.’
He hooked his finger in his collar and tugged. ‘You’re having my baby. The least I can do is help you shoot up.’
‘That just sounds so wrong.’ She wiped the alcohol wipe across her belly, the cool tingle flushing her skin. Inhale, exhale. Now or never. She pinched her belly. The back of her throat moistened with a hot, metallic film, and she swallowed. She exhaled and … Bam!
‘Oh. Not bad. Here, let me stick you.’ She held the needle out.
Drew flew back into the door, his hand slapping against his heart.
His face turned as red as his hair, and she was sure his freckles were going to pop right out of his cheek skin.
‘I’m just kidding! Seriously. I would never stick you with a used needle.
A new one … maybe. Just for solidarity purposes.
’ She tossed the syringe into the sharps container. Not as bad as it could’ve been.
He chuckled and settled his gaze on Lucy. ‘Are you okay? Do you feel weird?’
She wobbled and gripped the side of the counter. ‘Actually Drew …’
‘Oh God, what? What?’
‘I’m sorry. That was so not funny. I’m fine.
’ And she was, physically of course. The needle barely hurt.
But it seemed every single step made everything more real, and this was no exception.
God, she was so excited. All these years of talking and planning and prep, and they were so close.
But – and she avoided Drew’s gaze even thinking through this because he’d pick up on it via some super freakish osmosis or something – she was scared.
What if it worked? What if it didn’t? What if she was sick, or the baby got hurt, or she accidentally did something and destroyed her best friend’s dreams?
‘You’ve got to stop doing this. Please, make fun of my shoes.
Or my hair, or wardrobe or something. My choice in music—’
‘Terrible. Truly.’
‘Nineties pop is not terrible.’ She opened the door and leaned down to scratch Chucky, who had resigned himself to lying on the floor, in the dog equivalent of a pout for leaving him out of the party.
Drew followed her into the kitchen. She pulled down a box of crackers and held them out.
He waved the snacks away. ‘It’s just so weird, right?’ He swung his hands in between the two of them. ‘Freaks me out a little bit.’
‘That I’m going to be housing your baby?’
‘No, not that.’ He leaned back against the counter, his soft cotton-tee stretching against his crossed muscular arms. ‘I worry we’re going to lose “our thing”.
Since we were kids, it’s been Drew and Luce against the world.
And now, all we talk about is, you know, lawyers and transfers and ovulation. ’
She popped a cracker in her mouth and dusted off her hands.
She’d been meaning to talk to him about Jade for a while now but stopped herself every time she started – which scared her.
Lucy told Drew everything. Almost daily, she’d give an excruciating play-by-play of the tiniest interactions.
Sometimes she’d snap her fingers near his face because his eyes had glazed over. But Jade, she’d kept to herself.
Lucy knew why. These sensations, the rush she felt when they spoke, the way she kept thinking about how the sun had highlighted the green speckles in Jade’s eyes during their non-date at the coffee shop, the smell of her citrus sage perfume – which Lucy had searched for at the mall a week later …
She had feelings. She never had feelings.
And she had no idea what to do with them.
‘We do have something to talk about besides the pending alien about to inhabit my belly.’ She busied herself digging out more crackers. ‘I sort of … met someone.’
Drew’s mouth dropped. ‘Met someone? Couch time.’ He pointed to the living room. ‘I’m grabbing root beers.’
She slumped down onto the sofa and Chucky burrowed into her feet. Like Chucky was a living sensory toy, she ran her fingers through his fur and massaged his ears, until her heartbeat calmed.
Drew returned and handed her the soda. ‘Spill the details.’
‘It’s not what you think at all. She’s a friend.’
‘You have lots of friends.’
Technically, she had lots of acquaintances.
But she didn’t correct him. She popped the top and the fizzy bubbles burned down her throat as she took the first sip.
Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own as she squirmed and shifted in her seat.
‘She’s really nice, funny, just moved here last year from Chicago. She owns Jade’s on 7th.’
Drew’s eyebrows scrunched. ‘The salon with the Pride flags?’
‘Yep.’ She tucked a leg under her butt. ‘Anyway, we met a few weeks ago for coffee and, uh, we chat occasionally.’
‘So just friends?’
Her face turned pink. Drew could for sure see right through her fake nonchalant nod.
Drew sat back and crossed his arms. ‘So, this friend …’ He cleared his throat. ‘What does she think about you getting knocked up in a few weeks?’
Lucy flicked at the top of the can with her finger. ‘I didn’t tell her.’
‘You haven’t told her.’ He cocked his head. ‘You meet a friend for the first time in forever, and you haven’t told her? Why not?’
Well, when he says it like that, in that tone …
Maybe it sounded worse than what she originally thought.
Lucy loved Drew. Loved. Obviously. But she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to open up to him fully about the thoughts swarming through her head these last few weeks.
She’d never had these sparks before, and honestly, selfishly, wanted to hold them tight.
They seemed fragile, delicate somehow, like cupping your hands around a candle in a windstorm, and hoping the flame remains.
How would Jade react if she told her? Think Lucy was some sort of holier-than-thou person who needed some praise?
Maybe Jade would think it was gross, or weird, or that Lucy was ‘too much’.
Or maybe … Jade would be supportive and kind and wonderful, and honestly, Lucy wouldn’t know what to do with any of these outcomes.
‘No. I still haven’t told anyone except my dad and my manager.’
He lowered his pop. ‘Seriously?’
She shrugged and resumed petting Chucky.
‘Yeah. I don’t need people all up in my business.
Can you even imagine the amount of questions?
And then they’ll ask how we conceived and when I tell them to shove it where the sun don’t shine, they’re going to think we screwed. Ewwwww.’ For a hot minute, she thought of telling people exactly how she would conceive, but that was almost as invasive as just letting them think she and one of the dads had humped.
Curious about implantation, friends? Behind door number one we’ve got menstrual cycle matching, and hormones, and progesterone, and fallopian tube checks, and the mother of all plungers during a pap, and egg extraction, and …
‘People are definitely going to think we had sex. Gross.’ He gnarled his lip. ‘I mean, you’re not gross, but …’
‘I know. I get it.’
‘Are you ever going to tell her?’
She’d thought about it. Lucy and Jade messaged every night, mostly sharing work stories, or little anecdotes from their day.
Jade had sent a few vegetarian recipes, and Lucy sent a picture of a half-eaten, surprisingly delicious vegetarian breakfast sandwich from Starbucks.
But the last two times Jade had asked if she wanted to grab dinner or coffee, Lucy came up with a flimsy excuse.
‘I don’t know. I mean, if we keep hanging out, probably.
She’s gonna notice when it looks like I swallowed a basketball and have two broken ankles. ’
Drew set his can on the coffee table. ‘It’s your body, your choice.’
‘Damn right, per our signed legal document, thank you very much.’
‘What I mean is that it’s your choice to tell whomever you want, if you want, whenever you want. But you know once I announce it to my family, they’ll take out a billboard over 494, so she may find out eventually, anyway.’
She knew this was true. Drew’s family was not quiet.
Stillwater was not a small town, but it wasn’t huge either.
Word would get out, and Jade could find out from someone who wasn’t Lucy.
Which … She should probably try and control the narrative.
‘You and Mason are still waiting for second trimester, right?’
‘Yeah, just in case …’
She hated the crack in Drew’s normally ultra-confident voice, but she felt it too.
Lucy was not a praying kind of woman. But there have been more than a few nights right before she fell asleep where she whispered to the universe that she hoped everything turned out healthy and safe for the future little nugget.
‘Nope. You’re not jinxing anything.’ She patted him on the leg. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’
An hour later, after Drew had left to meet Mason for dinner, Lucy picked up her phone and grinned at an unread message from Jade.
At some point she shouldn’t get flutters this intense, right?
One would think after weeks of chatting, the thrill of getting pinged would dissipate.
Indulging in these little zings and zangs was fun, at least for now.
But she really needed to pull herself back, and keep her mind focused on the mission at hand.
Although, a few texts couldn’t hurt …
Jade: Do you remember in high-school chemistry when we learned about color molecules?
Lucy: No, but why?
Jade: I have a redhead who wanted to go platinum blond in one sitting.
Jade: Told her no. Impossible. Her hair will fall out, so she finally agreed to do it in multiple appointments.
Lucy: So, what happened?
Jade: She is currently cat-pee yellow/orange and I’m trying to do some semipermanent toner on her, so I don’t ruin my reputation around town.
Lucy: Oh no haha. You got this.
When Jade didn’t respond, Lucy shoved the phone in her back pocket and took out the recycling.
She pictured Jade at work, laughing with clients, her sleeved-tattooed arms working the round brush as she styled someone’s hair.
She wanted to be wrapped in those strong arms again.
She hated that she’d rejected Jade’s last two offers to get together.
But these emotions were unfamiliar, and her brain wouldn’t settle.
And it wasn’t just that she was unsure of what to do with these feelings.
Lucy had also signed documents stating she wouldn’t engage in sexy nefarious acts, and that a partner wouldn’t interfere with the surrogacy process.
The doctor, therapist, coordinator, even the legal secretary had all seen Lucy’s sworn statement of singlehood.
Lucy wasn’t a relationship guru or anything, but it seemed obvious that no one would want to date her with the promise of nothing but hand holding, cuddling, and witnessing morning sickness in their future.
It was like there was a pending doom of rejection hovering in the air, before they’d even got started.
And sure, although Lucy had never experienced this in her life, she wasn’t totally obtuse in thinking that the fear of rejection was uncommon when you are in the beginning stages of developing feelings.
But this seemed like a guaranteed way to snuff the flames before they even had a chance to burn.
Her phone pinged.
Jade: What are you up to?
Lucy: Drew just left. About to dive into a bag of chips and sour cream and watch Golden Girls.
Jade: I LOVE The Golden Girls. Which one are you?
Lucy: Really? I figured you knew me a little better by now. Rose, of course. You?
Jade: Dorothy
Lucy: No nonsense. Kind of salty. Love it.
Lucy: What are you up to tonight?
Jade: On a Saturday night? Going home. Taking a bath. Passing out by 10.
Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. Should she? No. Yes? Maybe. Gah! They were just friends. They both had the day off. They loved Golden Girls. This was fine.
Lucy: Want to come over?
And then she dropped the phone like it was burning her palm and rubbed Chucky’s fur until her breath evened. I cannot believe I just did that …