Page 5 of Better Than Baby (Better Than Stories #9)

four

Within five minutes of meeting Lena Rodrigo, I understood why the agency thought she’d be a perfect match for us.

She was a twenty-eight-year-old bubbly brunet with soulful brown eyes and a quick smile.

She was also a yoga instructor and a self-proclaimed free spirit with a master’s in kinesiology who aspired to open her own studio.

“For the sake of transparency, I’ll be honest…

the money would help finance my goal, but that’s not the only reason I’m interested in being a surrogate.

” Lena cast a mindful glance between Aaron and me as she straightened a crease in her long, flowy skirt.

“I want to give birth. I want to feel the essence and power of life within me. And okay…I know that sounds like hippie talk, but it’s true. ”

“And that’s not something you want to experience with a partner first?” I asked gently.

Emphasis on gently. Okay…c’mon, I couldn’t imagine any other setting where it might be vaguely appropriate to discuss sex and pregnancy with a complete stranger.

“I don’t have a partner,” she replied. “I don’t really like…sex.”

See what I mean?

I had no idea how to touch that, and I wasn’t going to try.

Aaron didn’t have a problem diving in, though. “At the risk of being gauche or unintentionally insensitive, is that trauma-related, a preference, or something else?”

“I’m asexual,” Lena explained. “I’m not sexually attracted to men or women or…

anyone. I need to know someone’s soul, and I hope one day to find that sort of connection.

But I’m also happy with my own company. If I never meet that person, that’s okay.

I believe we live many lives at once, and maybe there’s a version of me doing the heteronormative thing in another dimension.

Who knows? Here and now, that isn’t my path.

I don’t need to be a mother, but if I can use my body as a vessel to help a couple like yourselves, I want to do it. ”

I kept quiet. I honestly didn’t know how to respond. Lena’s hippie game was strong, but the “essence” of her speech resonated. She wanted the experience, and she was honest enough to admit she was monetarily motivated too.

Aaron inclined his head. “That’s nice. How about diet, exercise, travel aspirations?

What’s your family like? Tell us about your friends, your social life.

Do you drink, do drugs? Have you ever had a problem with recreational partying?

How do you handle stress or physical pain?

How do you feel about Puerto Rican food?

’Cause I have to tell you, if we agree to this and you get pregnant, my mother and sisters will want to feed you.

Hell, my mother-in-law will want to feed you and she’s…

lovely but challenging. Look who’s talking!

Full stop…I’m a lot. All caps. Ask Matty. ”

I nodded, impressed that he’d managed to include almost every query on our list without taking a breath. “True, but in a good way.”

“He has to say that. It was in our wedding vows,” Aaron stage-whispered, continuing in a more serious tone.

“I don’t mean to overwhelm you, Lena, but I feel like I should warn you that we’ve had a tough year with two failed adoptions.

Maybe we should have started here, but we didn’t, and now we’re a little raw and scared, and…

this is a significant, life-altering journey.

We’d want to be part of it with you from beginning to end, which would basically make you… well…”

“Family,” I finished, setting my hand over Aaron’s and squeezing it.

Lena’s gaze flitted from our joined hands to our faces. “I’d be honored.”

We shared a smile.

“Excellent. Tell us everything,” Aaron urged, wiggling in his seat and crossing his legs. “Don’t leave out a single detail.”

Lena snickered, and to her credit, proceeded to answer our long list of questions. Within the hour, we began to get a sense of who she was.

Long story short: Lena was born and raised in Baltimore, and her parents divorced when she and her older brother were toddlers. She came by her love of mystical pursuits through her mother, a paralegal who read tarot cards in her spare time.

Family was important to her. Lena professed to have a good relationship with her mom and her brother and his husband. She had a few close friends and was more than happy to give references.

Lena loved to cook. She was a pescatarian—loved all fish, especially salmon. She had a sweet tooth, but her idea of being bad was putting extra carob chips on her plain frozen yogurt. I was almost relieved to hear her admit she’d been a hooligan in high school.

“I was a goth girl—raven hair, black lipstick, purple eyeshadow, Doc Martens, and a very questionable wardrobe. The photos still haunt me.” Lena scrunched her nose and shrugged.

“I grew out of that phase in college and found yoga. I’ve done retreats all over the world—Costa Rica, Bali, Marrakesh, Kyoto, Ibiza, Sedona. It’s my passion.”

“Love that journey for you, but can you do yoga while pregnant? Is it safe?” Aaron wrinkled his brow. “Seems…squishy.”

According to Lena, not only was yoga safe, but there was something called prenatal yoga that catered specifically to pregnant women.

Aaron asked about her studio and their schedule, which was my cue to jump in with the legalese portion…

before he set up an appointment and bought us both some kind of package involving stretching naked in the moonlight.

“Would you consider yourself a good communicator? For the record, I’m a lawyer, and writing high-profile contracts is my bread and butter.

The contract will be standard, and the gist is…

you’re providing a service for money. I just know that there’s a good chance we’ll overwhelm you…

all with the best of intentions. It’s not a warning.

Should we proceed, it’s a request to know you.

And since you’d potentially be dealing with us for an entire year, we insist on frank communication throughout. ”

“Understood.”

“Contract or not, it’s still a leap of faith.

” I paused to swallow around a lump of emotion, my nostrils flaring.

“To us, this is hopefully the start of our family, and that’s something we’ve wanted for a long time.

I don’t think it’s possible to put what this means to us into actual words.

You don’t have to become our new best friend… you just have to be good to our baby.”

Lena’s eyes glistened suspiciously. “I understand, and I hope I get to be part of your parenthood journey. Whatever you decide, I can already tell that you guys are going to be amazing dads.”

I texted a quick message to my secretary to let her know I’d be in the office within the hour as I walked Aaron to his SUV.

“Tell Colleen I said hi.” He looped his arm through mine and leaned his head on my shoulder almost wistfully.

“You okay?”

“I think so. She likes yoga…a lot,” he commented, stopping at our SUV. “I wonder how she feels about pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.”

“I have a feeling she’s too young for that reference.”

Aaron gasped. “Too young for the pina colada song? Is that allowed?”

I lowered my sunglasses and rolled my eyes. “Well…what did you think?”

He glanced away with a theatrical sigh. “I like her. I really, really like her. I thought she was too perfect at first. All that yoga and healthy shit had to be covering up something seedy, you know. But she made goth fashion faux pas like the rest of us and her mom reads tarot cards and her brother is gay, and geez, Matty…Lena could be the one.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” I admitted.

He worried his bottom lip. “Do you think we might be parents this time next year?”

“Hey…” I pulled him into my arms. “Don’t do that, Aar. Not yet.”

Aaron nodded against my chest before pushing out of my hold. “You’re right. One day at a time. I have to go. Murphy needs me.”

“Okay, we’ll talk tonight. Love you.” I kissed him and stepped aside.

“I love you, too.” He pivoted as he opened the driver’s side door. “Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“You said, ‘our baby’ in there. Our baby.” Aaron flashed a bashful grin. “It gave me goose bumps…all-body, shivery goose bumps. Sometimes I think this is too hard and that I’m asking for the moon when I already have more than I dreamed, but then you say our baby and…it’s worth it.”

I reached for his wrist and pressed my lips to his knuckles. “Yours, mine…ours.”

Aaron fanned his face. “If I were you, I’d make a speedy escape. In two seconds, I’ll be on my knees in front of God and Bethesda in the parking lot of a respectable family planning clinic, doing all kinds of depraved things to my husband.”

I barked a laugh. “Behave. I’ll see you later.”

He blew kisses I pretended to catch on the way to my car. I shrugged my suit coat off and tossed it to the passenger side. A prickly sensation of being watched had me sliding a wary glance over my shoulder.

Lena stood at the entrance of the brick building, her long skirt billowing in the breeze.

She smiled and waved. I returned the gesture, idly wondering how long she’d been staring at us…

what she’d seen, what she’d been looking for.

If she seriously considered giving her time, body, and a measure of her privacy to us, she’d probably want to be sure we were worth it.

Hope wasn’t a word I tossed around lightly anymore.

I’d spent a whole year and a half bearing the weight of one disappointment after another—for myself and Aaron.

I was aware of all the ways this could go wrong.

Lena might not conceive, she might miscarry, she might be a skilled sociopath, a deviant with a secret drug problem, the baby might not be born healthy. The list went on and on.

My brain wasn’t a pleasant place to be in the middle of the night when I woke sweaty and disoriented with a sick feeling that I was fucking everything up.

I wished I were better at listening to my own advice.

It was easy to preach about patience and gratitude, but some days, I feared I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

And yet…against my better judgment, a spark of hope bloomed in my chest. I tried to smother it with logic and reason— There’s no contract yet, the terms might be out of our reach, this might not work —but the stubborn sense of rightness wouldn’t stand down.

I really wanted this to be it.