A Mother's Secrets (Parent Portal 4)

“Any age requirement?”

“Thirty to thirty-three,” he said, not getting too ballsy. “I want her more mature than twenties and yet still well before the thirty-five age bracket that some professionals say increases risk of problems.”

“Do you have any marriage preferences?” Christine asked, looking up at him. “Some couples prefer married surrogates.”

“I prefer her to not be married,” he said, only because Christine wasn’t. In his mind, Christine was it. There’d been no backup plan. How could he not have one, though?

He’d just been so carried away by all of the signs from Emily. The messages he knew he was getting from her.

How could he possibly have expected this woman to carry his child? Was he really that self-involved? Or so into the idea of Emily speaking to him that he was losing touch with reality?

Maybe he needed to go home and grieve some more. Get into the next stage of the process of living after your spouse wasn’t.

He didn’t feel like moping around. He’d miss Emily every day for the rest of his life, would always grieve for her, but he had to get out and start living life again. To create his new life. He’d been told that was the next stage. Had been assured by the grief counselor he’d seen that his drive to live, even though it meant doing so without Emily, was healthy.

And that, while it was a normal response for him to feel like an ass for having that drive, he wasn’t one.

He noticed Christine studying him, those deep brown eyes seeming to touch him somehow, and it struck him that maybe this was what was meant to be. Perhaps Emily was leading him to Christine, not as their literal surrogate, but as the woman who helps him find her.

He wanted to think so but felt no conviction.

“If she doesn’t live locally, but is willing to relocate to be close to the clinic during the duration of the process, would you be willing to provide a housing allowance?”

“Pay for an apartment, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I told you, money isn’t an issue. I’ll pay living expenses, whatever is necessary. The woman’s putting her life on hold for me, allowing me to use her body...” He stopped when he heard how inappropriate that sounded. Instead, he wanted to tell Christine th

at he was willing to make a notable donation to The Parent Portal if she’d have his and Emily’s baby for them, but didn’t want to risk being evicted from her office a second time.

Chances were he wouldn’t get a second forgiveness.

She wrote something. And then, pen slightly above the pad, sat there looking at it. Not reading, though. Her eyes weren’t moving. It was more of a stare. Like she was deep in thought.

Introspection didn’t usually present itself in the middle of business meetings. Unless... Was she considering...

Should he mention the clinic donation he would make?

Would that be tacky?

Or show her that he was willing to do whatever she needed to make their business deal a win-win for both of them?

What could he give her that would be comparable to what she’d be giving him?

“I’d be willing to consider some kind of arrangement whereby she could see the child now and then, if she wanted to do that. To have regular updates. Since, as you say, she will likely fall somewhat in love with the child as she carries it.”

Christine blinked, as though coming back to a conscious awareness of where she was. Glanced at him and then jotted on the pad.

“I...please don’t take this the wrong way...but I’ll be making a donation to The Parent Portal. Not to pay for your help, but because I know, firsthand, how important it is that you’re here. Thinking about this place, about those embryos... I think they might have saved me. Or at least helped speed up my recovery. What you do here... I just want you to know that it matters.”

He heard himself and wasn’t done. “Not to say that I won’t pay for your help,” he added. “Of course, I will. I intended to do so all along. I just...”

He’d turned into some kind of blabbering idiot. The comic relief in one of the family dramas Emily used to love to watch.

She’d always been the one with the more obvious sense of humor. He was a numbers guy.

“You already made a donation. After Emily died.”