Chapter 8 #2
“No. That’s where you come in, if you get the position,” Ingrid says. “You’d be in charge of helping us find this person, vetting them, onboarding them, making sure they eat right, exercise well—”
“I mean really, it’s like finding the right surrogate for having a baby,” Kyle says, reaching for his wife’s hand.
“Of course!” Maggie says. “They would have to take this completely seriously. Follow all the rules and do what they’re supposed to do.”
“Exactly!” Ingrid nods. “It’s very important they complete the full ten transfusions.”
“And they have to be someone Ingrid’s comfortable being around,” Maggie adds, glancing at Kyle. She turns to Ingrid. “Because not only are you giving them this generous opportunity, you’re going to be spending a lot of time with them.”
Ingrid doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone whose intuition is so sharp. She gets her.
“You’ve articulated it perfectly,” Kyle compliments her.
“And how would you go about finding this person?” Ingrid asks.
Maggie thinks for a few seconds, putting a finger to her lip.
“Actually…and please don’t take this the wrong way, because I absolutely understand if I’m not the right fit, but I’d love to be considered for the blood partner position.”
As soon as Maggie says it, it’s one of those thoughts that’s impossible for Ingrid to unthink. Of course. She’s perfect! Ingrid glances at Kyle and can tell he’s thinking it, too.
“I’d be happy to go through a health screening and give you all my references, transcripts, whatever you need,” Maggie says.
“Wow. I don’t even know what to say,” Ingrid says. Then she blurts out, “Do you have a doctor?” at the same time that Kyle asks, “Do you know your blood type?”
“I’m B positive, I think,” Maggie says.
Kyle gasps.
“So am I,” Ingrid says, heart pounding.
“Well, this is really exciting.” Kyle beams.
“And to answer your other question, I don’t have a doctor,” Maggie says, seeming slightly embarrassed.
“That’s OK, we can arrange one for you,” Kyle offers. “And pay for them, of course.”
Ingrid smiles. This is wild. Did they seriously find their lead on the first day of auditions?
The more she looks at Maggie, the more she takes in her smile, her energy, her high EQ and clear work ethic, the more convinced Ingrid is that Maggie’s utterly and completely perfect. Sometimes you just know.
Kyle gets up, shaking Maggie’s hand for a long while. “I’m so glad you applied. We’ll get back to you right away.”
“But I love that idea,” Ingrid says. She holds Maggie’s hand in hers—connected.
—
Ingrid and Kyle are practically talking over each other in the bathroom.
“Don’t you just love her?” Ingrid asks, sitting at her vanity. She’s in her robe, applying layers and layers of serums and creams to her face. Every one of them promises to rewind the years, but now she’s found an actual way!
Kyle pauses brushing his teeth. “My God, she was so open to the whole idea!”
“She didn’t even flinch. She was so cool about it,” Ingrid says, gazing over at her phone at all the meeting times her assistant gave Charlie. He had some conflict with every slot offered, which makes her wonder if he’s stalling. He knows the book option’s expiring soon.
“I love her whole immigrant backstory…” Kyle continues.
“Me, too.” Ingrid smiles. “This is why I suggested we get a BIPOC person. I love what she said about helping her parents. She gets it! And to think she could be my blood partner, too!”
“But do you think we should have told her about the cancer signals?” Kyle asks slowly.
“Precancer signals. And no,” Ingrid says. “That’s not our place to tell her. We’re not medical doctors.”
“Right,” Kyle says, relieved. “Should we check her Instagram?” He puts his toothbrush down and picks up his phone.
Ingrid closes her eyes, praying Maggie’s IG won’t be filled with too many pictures of herself.
Or “lifestyle pics” like Cassie always seems to be posting.
Ingrid wants a thinker, not a poser. A doer, not a talker.
When Kyle doesn’t look up for a long time, Ingrid gets worried. What’s wrong?
Her mind automatically goes to the darkest place. He’s in his DMs, replying to some new young skank. All their passionate lovemaking these last few days doesn’t mean anything to him now that he knows she’ll stay alive.
Then Kyle flips his phone over. It’s just a new Story from Cassie. Ingrid lets out a breath. It’s a picture of the sky. Still, just to be safe, she gestures for his phone.
“What do you suppose this means?” he asks.
“Let me see that.” She takes Kyle’s phone and walks across the room. She hates herself for doing this. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she goes straight to Kyle’s DMs.
“Why a sky? Is it a cry for help?” Kyle asks.
Ingrid doesn’t reply, scrolling quickly.
Her eyes skim past DMs he’s sent to various ski resorts, cooking stores, bookstores, and poster shops.
No escorts. Just a lot of impulse shopping, most of it for her.
She feels a little sheepish. But, she reminds herself, he made her this way.
It’s not her fault that now every time they go to a restaurant, she clocks how long he looks at the waitress.
“You don’t think it’s Scientology?” Kyle continues, still stuck on Cassie.
Ingrid laughs, shaking her head. She’d like to see Scientology try.
No, Cassie is fine. She tells her husband their daughter’s already sent her a link to a music festival in LA, requesting an increase in her Amex limit to pay for her and her friends.
“You said yes, right?” Kyle asks, relaxing.
Ingrid gives Kyle a look. Seriously? No. She did not. Instead, she taps into his emails just to make sure there are no communications with escort companies there, either. She finds none, but there are also no emails to any jobs or communications with any headhunters.
She thought they’d agreed—she would spend the settlement money on the procedure, and he would look for a new job.
“Speaking of money, have you reached out to any headhunters?” Ingrid asks casually, handing him back his phone.
Kyle ignores her and turns his attention back to Instagram. He proceeds to look up Maggie. “What was her last name again?”
The resentment bubbles inside her. Does he honestly think that she’s just going to support them?
Pay for all his ski trips and golf memberships and Cassie’s college and Connor’s apartment and all of it?
That’s not the deal she signed up for. It’s certainly not why she’s working so hard to stay alive.
She gently puts a hand in front of his phone.
“I thought we agreed. You were going to look for a new job? Since we’re spending all this cash? ”
He looks up at her. “Yeah, yeah, I’m talking to them. They’re gonna get back to me!”
Ingrid exhales in relief. Before she can ask who they are, Kyle points to his phone. “Look! There it is! Maggie’s profile!”
Ingrid glances down. Maggie’s profile pic is a blurry backlit silhouette of her. There are no outrageous lifestyle pics or bikini shots. In fact, there are only six posts total—two of which are of her reading. Ingrid couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.
“A true artist. More interested in substance than likes.” She beams.
Kyle puts his arms around his wife. Ingrid nestles her head on Kyle’s shoulder. She lets herself temporarily forget Kyle’s job-hunting status and closes her eyes as he grazes the length of her shoulder with his lips.
“I love how she framed it, too—as an opportunity,” Ingrid whispers. “For all of us.”
As Ingrid and Kyle walk out of their marble bathroom to their bed, Ingrid thinks about how there’s so much in that statement Kyle will never understand.
Because here’s a dirty little fact that she doesn’t want to admit to anyone: It’s not just an opportunity to rewind ten years for her health.
It’s also an opportunity to never worry about her husband cheating with a younger woman again.