Nothing and no one is irreplaceable. The words echoed in her mind as if James were in the room with her now. It was something he’d always said whenever they’d lost a valued staff member. And he’d been right. Even as her heart argued that this was different—she was Riley’s mother, for goodness’ sake!—her head knew that on paper it made little difference. She’d been a surrogate. She’d given birth to another couple’s child.
It was unbearable. It was a mistake that should never, ever have been made. She’d thought her life couldn’t sink any lower, that things couldn’t possibly get worse, but she’d been so very wrong. Through vision blurred with the tears that continued to fall, she looked through the balance of the papers, identifying a visitation document and another one entitled Settlement Agreement.
A settlement? What on earth? She flicked through the papers and began to feel her grief become sharper, even more agonizing, as it blended with pure fury when she saw the terms that Sam was proposing. In a nutshell, he wanted to pay her a million dollars, in full and final payment and in gratitude for carrying his son and providing for him in the first six months of his life. Provision was being made to give her time to wean Riley onto formula before he was handed over to his father.
One word leaped from the page, searing itself against the back of her eyes. Gratitude? Erin clenched her jaw and swallowed hard. He was grateful she’d given him a son to take home and love and raise? How dare he reduce her arduous, joyful, life-changing months of motherhood to nothing more than a service provided by a paid employee? She carefully put the papers down on the table, fighting the urge to rip them into shreds.
A million dollars? Is that what Sam thought a child was worth? He was paying her for his son? No. No way. How dare he? How could he put a price on a life? On what she’d gone through? On what she was losing—what he was taking from her?
She pushed herself up to her feet so rapidly her chair fell, bouncing on the tiled floor. Grabbing the cordless phone she dialed Janet’s number, feeling as if she was holding on to her sanity by no more than a thread.
Janet wasn’t available but Erin was able to make an appointment to see her the next day. When she hung up, she sat down again and read every paper through, over and over, until she felt she understood every last word.
She couldn’t fight his claim for full custody but she could hold some power here. It was the only power she had left.
Fifteen
“What do you mean she won’t accept the money? Why? Isn’t it enough? Is she asking for more?” Sam raged through his phone.
“I mean, she won’t accept the money. Any money.”
David’s cool clear voice sounded absurdly rational in light of the information he’d just disclosed.
“She has to.”
The words sounded about as lame and redundant as Sam felt right now.
“Actually, no. She doesn’t. Her only request is for an extra two weeks for weaning the child.”
“Riley. His name is Riley.”
“But you’ll be changing that, right? Didn’t you and Laura have a different name picked out?”
Sam squeezed the phone so tight the plastic squeaked. “No, I won’t be changing his name. And I am going to do my best to change Erin’s mind about the money.”
“Well, good luck on that, Sam. From what her lawyer has said, she’s pretty adamant.”
Sam ended the call and paced the confines of his high-rise office overlooking union Square. The question “why?” echoed back and forth in his head. She’d made no counteroffer on the custody bid, she’d ignored the visitation rights and she’d refused the settlement. What the hell was going on? He, probably better than most, knew she couldn’t afford to refuse the money.
He stopped in front of the window, staring down at the people rushing about their busy lives out on the street, on the beggars and homeless people who dotted the pavement here and there. Would any one of them refuse an offer of a million dollars? No, of course not. No rational person would.
He had to see her. To talk to her. To talk some sense into her. He knew her background. He’d read the report from the investigator. She’d grown up with little more than ill-fitting clothing and the bruises on her back. Subsequent to that had come a history of running away from home, substance abuse and the list of petty crimes she’d been picked up for.
After the baby from the squat house died, she’d made a conscious and massive effort to distance herself from her past and to clean herself up. To improve her life and to build a new one filled with all that she’d had a right to before, but had never been given.