California Girls

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get upset. I’m fine. I feel great. Better than I ever have.”

“Hayes should take you on a fancy trip to celebrate. You both deserve it.”

“Funny you should say that. Hayes and I do want to celebrate, but in another way. We want to have a baby.”

Zennie was both thrilled and sympathetic. Bernie’s cancer treatment had included surgery that had taken her uterus and her ovaries. There was no way she could carry a child or even use her own egg. Because of her cancer diagnosis, some pregnant women looking at adoption might not want to consider her and Hayes.

“What’s the plan for that?” Zennie asked, doing her best to sound upbeat. “Adoption?”

“Surrogacy. We’d use a donor egg and Hayes’s sperm. We’ve been doing a lot of research and it’s a relatively simple procedure.”

Zennie smiled at her. “So basically artificial insemination. That would be easy enough. I think they use a turkey baster to insert the sperm.”

Bertie rolled her eyes. “There’s no turkey baster, but the process is similar. We find a surrogate, wait for her to ovulate and ta-da, pregnancy.”

“That sounds a lot easier and faster than adoption. And it’s legal, right? You wouldn’t have to worry about the surrogate changing her mind?”

“It can always be a concern, but California is ahead of the curve when it comes to surrogacy.” Bernie gripped her smoothie. “Zennie, I want to say something. Just listen and then speak from the heart. No matter what, you’re my best friend and I’ll always love you. Please, please feel free to say no.”

Zennie stared at her friend. She half knew what Bernie was going to say, but was still surprised to hear, “Hayes and I would like you to consider being our surrogate and egg donor.”

It made sense, Zennie thought. She was young, healthy and strong. She wasn’t in a relationship, she had good insurance, and it wasn’t as if she was using her girl parts for anything else. But carrying a baby was a big deal, wasn’t it? Honestly, she didn’t know much about pregnancy beyond her nursing school rotation in delivery and pediatrics.

“We’d cover all your expenses,” Bernie went on. “Co-pays and your maternity clothes and any special food you needed. You would be entitled to maternity leave when you had the baby and we’d cover an extra month at home so you could fully recover.”

She paused and shrugged. “I want to say more, but I’m going to stop now. If you need to say no, then do it. I’ll totally understand.”

Zennie reached across the picnic table and squeezed Bernie’s hand. “Stop. I’m not going to say no this second. I’m surprised, but I also think I’ve totally been expecting this. I mean, I never thought about it, but who else? I’m your best friend, Bernie. I love you and Hayes and I want you to be happy. I know you’d be great mom. It’s just big and I need to mull for a bit.”

Bernie’s eyes filled with tears. “Of course. Take as much mulling time as you’d like. Take a year. You have to be sure. You have to know what you’re getting into.”

“I will think and investigate and I won’t take a year.”

Bernie brushed away her tears. “Thanks for even considering this.”

“Thank you for asking. It’s an honor. Now we need to get going. You have to go home to your handsome husband and I need to do a little research.”

They stood and hugged.

“I’ll be in touch,” Zennie promised.

“Thanks.”

As she got in her car, Zennie knew she had a lot to consider and think about. While her first instinct was to immediately say of course she would be their surrogate, she understood that this was possibly the biggest decision of her life and not one to be made lightly. Still, it was Bernie and she had no idea if it would be possible for her to ever say no.





Chapter Six


Finola had a little trouble reading the digital clock on the nightstand. The numbers were big enough and even projected onto the ceiling. The problem wasn’t the size of the display or the brightness—it was that they wouldn’t stop moving.

Back and forth, they jumped like numerical fleas doing a dance that made her head spin. Dang numbers, she thought, wondering if the concept was funny enough to make her smile because nothing else had.

She was pretty sure she was still drunk. She’d been chugging vodka steadily since, oh, sometime Friday night, and now it was Sunday. She still hurt all over and she constantly felt sick and inside her chest, where her heart was supposed to be, was just a hole.

She looked back at the clock and saw it was maybe nine forty. At night, she told herself, looking out the window just to be sure.

Yup, it was dark, so nighttime. Nine forty on Sunday night. A day she’d spent entirely alone because, despite his promise, Nigel had never stopped by.

She’d known he wouldn’t, she admitted, but only to herself. There was no way he would want to talk to her after what he’d done. Nigel loved pointing out her flaws but didn’t like hearing about his own. There was no way to put this on her, no matter how he tried, so of course he was avoiding her. It was just a character flaw.

She’d been telling herself that for hours and hoping that, at some point, she would believe it. Only now, lying on their bed, in their bedroom, in their house, knowing he was probably fucking Treasure right this second, she was finding it harder and harder to believe that was all it was. Her spinning head and muddled mind weren’t enough to distract her from a horrific truth. That Nigel hadn’t failed to come by because he was ashamed or because he was busy having sex. He hadn’t come by because he wasn’t here anymore.

In LA, she clarified for herself. She wasn’t thinking he was dead.