I felt myself relax. “Amelia, you’re going to spend the next year of your life on this. How could you not write about it?” I took her hand. “Are you serious? Are we doing this?”
She hugged me. I’d take that as a yes.
“Our parents are going to die,” she said into my ear.
I pulled away and said, “Let’s go cause a scene.”
* * *
I knew when I saw their faces they all thought we were going to announce we were dating. Everyone knew Olivia Thaysden and Elizabeth Saxton’s lifelong dream, from childhood—hell, maybe even from birth—was to have children who would grow up and get married. The truth was going to be a blow.
As I put my hand on the small of Amelia’s back to let her walk through the front door of my parents’ house first, I caught the conspiratorial smile that Mom and Elizabeth shared. Yeah, this was not going to be the dinner they were expecting.
It started out well. Mom had just had her kitchen redone and was excited to show it off. I don’t know much about kitchens, but I knew it was nice. We never ever talked about money in our house, but I knew Dad was one of the top producers in the country in his field. I was proud of Dad for forging his own path, for taking a risk and creating a new life for himself. Now I hoped he would feel the same way about me.
We all had cocktails and appetizers around the kitchen island, which Mom was explaining was travertine. Amelia smiled at me nervously, and I noticed how quickly she drank her first glass of wine.
Fortunately, nerves had never affected my appetite, so I was fully able to enjoy the stuffed figs, pimento cheese, and flash-fried cauliflower.
We had agreed that I would take the lead. It was my news anyway, my life that was going to change. Before I put it out there, I had to be sure. Not pretty sure or almost sure, sure sure. I thought about going it alone, the all-nighters and the dirty diapers, the fevers and the doctor’s appointments, my life no longer being my own. But then I thought about looking into the face of a child that was half-Greer, a child that we had imagined when she was alive. I would sacrifice anything to have her back. This was the only way that was ever going to happen. I was sure sure.
Greer had told me one day, with a scarf wrapped around her head, her face almost translucently white, not to do anything stupid when she was gone. The example she used was cryogenically freezing her in case she could be brought back to life. I tried to scoff, but it didn’t quite take. That woman knew me. I had actually Googled cryogenic freezing the night before.
Besides, this wasn’t extreme. It was normal. How many friends did we know who had done IVF? (Okay, one.) How many friends did we have who had had surrogates? (Again, one.) But that wasn’t nothing.
I noticed that Mom had brought out Great-Grandmother’s crystal and silver, which she only did on special occasions. As everyone sat down, I decided it was best to just get it out there, face the firing squad.
So I cleared my throat and said, “Um, you guys, I have an announcement.”
My dad gave me the eye. “Don’t you mean we have an announcement?” he said, gesturing toward Amelia.
She smiled nervously. “Sort of…” She trailed off and mumbled, “But it isn’t what you think.”
“Mom, Dad,” I started, “I don’t know if you remember, but Greer and I had embryos frozen before she died.”
Dad took a sip of his scotch, and I could tell he had no idea what was coming next. Mom shifted her head. Her antennae were on high alert.
“Well, I just heard that those embryos had been considered abandoned…”
I trailed off, and Elizabeth said, “Oh, Parker, darling, that must be devastating for you.”
Mom nodded in agreement. “So hard, sweetheart.”
Dad and Mr. Saxton did not seem to share their emotions.
“Well, no,” I said, realizing this train was going to go off the tracks quickly. “Actually, I have decided not to destroy them. I am going to have them.” I cleared my throat again. “Using a surrogate.”
Mom’s face went white, Dad’s scotch stopped midair, and total and complete silence fell over the table. It was horrible. But it was worse when they all started talking at the same time.
Mom was saying, “Parker, no. Absolutely not. That is ridiculous,” as Elizabeth said, “I know it’s a new day, but this is a little much,” and Dad chimed in, “I think you’ve taken this mourning a little too far. Man up and move on,” and Mr. Saxton was saying, “Son, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”
Then they were all chattering wildly, more to themselves than to me, and all I could really catch was, “lost his mind?” and “no idea how much work!” and “babies need mothers.”
Amelia and I shared a glance, and I wasn’t sure what to do now. Should I interrupt? Slip out? While I was formulating an escape route, Elizabeth broke through the chatter. “So what does this have to do with Amelia?”
Bomb number two, ready for detonation.
“Well, Mom,” she said quietly, “I am going to be his surrogate.”
Elizabeth slammed her hand on the table and stood up so quickly her glass fell over. “You most certainly are not, young lady. I will not have it.”
No one else at the table reacted, but I knew from five minutes’ prior experience that that wasn’t necessarily a good sign. At that exact moment—perfect timing as always—Mason bolted through the door, making a lot of noise, in a pair of gym shorts, a T-shirt, and filthy tennis shoes. He grabbed a plate off the sideboard, heaped food onto it, and, with half a roll stuffed in his mouth, said, “What? Is this a funeral or something?”
That was all it took to set them off again.
“Why is no one saying anything?” Elizabeth asked. “I can’t be the only one who thinks this entire plan is lunacy. This is worse than when you two decided to free the trapped flies.”
“Well, Mom,” Amelia said, “it couldn’t possibly be worse than that.”
It couldn’t be. There were flies everywhere that entire summer, like a plague had come down.
Elizabeth pointed to Mom. “Well, say something, for God’s sake, Olivia.”
Mom shrugged. “Well, it isn’t ideal. But it makes me feel slightly better that it won’t be some stranger carrying my grandchild. It will be Amelia. That’s something.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Oh no, you’re right. Perfect. Just let her sacrifice herself for your son. Who cares about her future, right?”
Now Mom was getting huffy. Lord help us all. Elizabeth and Mom had been best friends since birth, but that made them more like sisters than friends. So they fought like nothing you had ever seen—and about the stupidest things. Like the summer they chose to back different candidates for president of Garden Club, and they fought for months and almost drove Amelia, me, and our dads crazy.
Mom said, “No, Elizabeth. I’m not saying I don’t care about Amelia. You know Amelia is the daughter I never had,” she snapped. “I’m just saying that if Parker is dead set on this ridiculous scheme, then it makes me feel better to know that Amelia will be involved.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Elizabeth asked, turning her fury back to Amelia. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to carry a baby and then give it up? Do you have any idea how attached you are going to be to that baby, and how much it is going to break your heart to give it away?”