“Well, obviously! It’s Evette’s baby too.”
“Of course. I’m not really thinking straight. I have to go,” she said. “I need to talk this over with Evette.”
“Okay.” Star smiled reassuringly.
“Are you all right?” Maggie asked, standing up and taking Simone’s arm to steady her. Simone was swaying.
“I’m fine. Just . . . a bit overwhelmed.”
“Let us walk you back to the cottage,” said Maggie, a crease of concern between her eyebrows.
“No, honestly, I’ll be fine. It’s just—it’s a lot.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Simone!” Star chuffed. “Stop trying to be so bloody stoic all the time and let us in. You don’t have to handle everything on your own!”
“Says the woman who went through an abortion all by herself at fifteen!” said Maggie pointedly.
Star smiled grimly. “Touché.”
“Or the woman who didn’t tell us she was being evicted because she didn’t want to be a burden!” Simone added, regaining some of her composure under the protection of a sister on either side of her.
“Double touché.” Maggie laughed.
The sisters linked arms as they walked out into the cold night.
“Let’s make a pact,” said Star. “Here and now. Let’s promise to stop being islands and start being sisters again.”
“That’s a good pact,” said Maggie. “I promise.”
“Me too,” said Simone, tilting her head to rest it against Star’s.
It was a cloudless night and the stars looked as though they’d had their wattage ramped up. There was no wind now, and it was so quiet that the clock in the church tower could be heard ticking its way to midnight. Nothing had changed; each sister’s future was still as uncertain as it had been the day before—maybe more so. But that night, with the stars above their heads and promises warming their hearts, their worries didn’t seem quite as insurmountable.
* * *
Her sisters had gone, and Simone was alone with her thoughts in the cottage, phone in hand, ready to call Evette. A mental ravine of possibility had opened up before her and stopped her in her tracks. She was looking down into it, her feet right on the edge of a precipice, deciding if she was brave enough to jump. Could they do this? Could it be as simple as Star was making it out to be? They’d have to find the money for the embryo transfer, which wouldn’t be easy. Okay, so she wouldn’t be pregnant herself, but it would be her egg, her baby, and her own biological sister carrying her child for her.
Her mind flip-flopped between the positives and the dangers. Obviously, she would need to make sure that Star fully understood the implications of what she was proposing to undertake. She’d always been impulsive, often to her own detriment, and this wasn’t something to be taken lightly; if they went down this road, sudden cold feet would have dire consequences. Simone’s head began to swim. It was too much. All of it. The hope and the worry were piling in on her from a great height and she couldn’t breathe—she was drowning in a cacophony of feelings that were too big.
Unlike Star, she was not in tune with the universe, she did not entrust things to fate. Simone was measured and methodical. Lying back on the sofa, she took a calming breath and began to compartmentalize her feelings. The worries went in one box, the excitement went in another, and so she continued, sorting her mind in this way until all that was left was the very essence of the issue: herself and Star. And then she knew. Star was many things, but above all she was her sister, and she knew within her very atoms that her sister would rather break her own heart a million times than risk Simone’s. She allowed the calm acknowledgment to flow through her.
This was how she was going to have her baby.
She pressed the call button on her phone and waited for her wife to pick up.
* * *
At first Star couldn’t place the vibrating sound that had punctured her sleep. When she finally realized it was her phone ringing, she snatched it up clumsily as though she were wearing mittens and saw that the time was nearly 2 a.m. No good phone calls ever happened in the dead of night.
“Hello? What’s wrong? Who is it?” she asked in disorientation and panic.
“It’s Evette. Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry to call you so late, again, but it couldn’t wait. I need to talk to you.”
Star flicked on the bedside lamp and pulled herself up to sitting, blinking in the light. “Okay. Good morning, Evette. What do you need?”
“Are you serious? About being a surrogate for us?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think you’re rushing into this? I mean, you only found out a few days ago that we were even trying for a baby. I’m not sure you’ve had enough time to properly think through the implications. It’s a huge decision. Life-changing for you. Your world will be tipped on its head, your body will be irrevocably changed, your hormones will be all over the place. It could affect your future relationships. And that’s before we get to how you will feel handing over a child that you’ve carried for nine months. Or the fact that you will have to watch it grow up from afar. Have you thought about any of these things? I don’t want to make accusations, but are you sure you’re not being irresponsible with your sister’s feelings, and mine? Simone is desperate to be a mother and she feels like you’ve offered her a lifeline. I know it comes from a place of love, but you can’t say things like that off the cuff. It isn’t fair. Worse than that, it’s unkind.”
“Are you finished?” Star asked when the line had finally gone quiet. She guessed from the way Evette—usually a thoughtful, measured speaker—had blurted it all out that she had been stewing for a while.
“For the moment.”
She could hear the annoyance in Evette’s voice. She thought she was a flake, just like everyone else did. “I understand your concerns. And I know it seems quick and impulsive.”
“It is without question both of those things, Star.”
She had never heard Evette speak so sternly. “Let me give you some background. I didn’t tell Simone this because, well, the shock of my offer seemed to knock the stuffing out of her. I was going to discuss it with her when she’d had some time to regroup.”