Judith Wall - The Surrogate

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To a penniless twenty-year-old like Jamie Long, surrogate motherhood seemed both an act of altruism and a financial opportunity. But once pregnant and under contract to Amanda Hartmann, the head of a famous evangelical family, Jamie realizes that she's getting more than she bargained for. Whisked away to the vast, isolated family ranch, she's closely supervised and carefully cut off from the outside world. She learns the family's dark secrets – and sees the enormity of their ruthlessness. When Jamie hears Amanda's plan to claim the baby as her natural-born child, she begins to suspect that her own life is in danger and resolves to flee.
Alone with a tiny newborn, she calls on the one man in the world she can trust – her high school crush, Joe Brammer. Their love unites them in a struggle to escape, and soon enough their flight becomes a fight for their lives.
Brilliantly weaving some of today's most controversial social issues into a captivating page-turner, The Surrogate is Judith Henry Wall's greatest triumph to date.

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Finally, she calmed herself, feeling a bit ashamed that she had overreacted in such a way. It was time for her to face up and grow up. Of course the baby moved. It was supposed to move, supposed to grow, and eventually get itself born. She had put off dealing emotionally with her situation long enough. She was now five months’ pregnant. A small living creature was swimming around in her uterus. A baby. A human baby.

She was not to think of it as her baby. She had signed a contract saying that in exchange for a handsome amount of money, she agreed to forfeit her legal rights to the child. In the eyes of the law, he or she would belong to Amanda Hartmann and Toby Travis. Biologically, she was the mother, however. And Toby was the biological father.

Unless what Mary Millicent had said about Sonny was true.

Which was too far-fetched to be believed.

Jamie wondered what life would be like for the child she was carrying, other than being raised amid extreme wealth and never wanting for anything. She did not doubt that Amanda and Toby would love the child. She did worry, however, that much of the child’s upbringing would be left to Miss Montgomery or a nursemaid while Amanda, with Toby at her side, traveled about saving souls and raising money for political candidates handpicked by her Alliance. And Jamie wondered how she would feel if the child that she was now carrying followed in Amanda’s footsteps and someday told a national television audience how God wanted them to live and think and vote. Would she feel proud? Or would it make her squirm?

That night, it was Jamie who initiated the middle-of-the-night visit with Mary Millicent. She crept down the hall to the chapel, then she pushed open the hidden door, felt around for the light switch, and climbed the bare wooden stairs to the first of the two tower rooms. A dim light glowed from behind the curtain that divided the room. She slipped behind the curtain and stared down at the emaciated face of the unfortunate young man lying there. All the family riches had not protected him from grave misfortune.

She pulled back the covers, lifted one of his hands, and placed it on her belly. “Is that your baby in there?” she whispered.

Then she leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.

He had been greatly loved, she thought as she backed away from the bed. Perhaps she would have loved him, too, had she had a chance to know him. She wondered if, in spite of being the heir to a vast fortune or maybe because of it, Sonny Hartmann had also known what it was like to be an outsider.

She climbed the stairs to Mary Millicent’s room. Once she had reached the top, she stood for a time, allowing her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The sound of soft snoring reached her ears. She waited until her eyes adjusted and she could make out the outline of the bed, then tiptoed across the room. “Mary Millicent,” she said, leaning over the sleeping form.

When the old woman did not respond, Jamie felt around for her hand. “Hey, Mary Millicent, it’s Jamie, the girl from downstairs.”

“I know who you are,” Mary Millicent said in a hoarse whisper. “Did the witch see you?”

“No,” Jamie said, turning on a bedside lamp. “I wanted to tell you that the baby moved today.”

“You came all the way up here to tell me that?”

“Well, yes,” Jamie said, helping the woman to a sitting position. “You asked me if I had felt any quickening, and I thought you might be interested to know that it had, indeed, occurred.”

“Well, it was bound to happen unless the baby was dead,” Mary Millicent said, struggling to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Jamie helped get her situated and extracted her bunched-up nightgown from underneath her hips.

“So, this is where you live,” said Jamie, taking a look around the room. Like the room below, a pair of narrow windows was set in each of the room’s eight sides. The floor was bare wood, and the walls were painted white. A rack of clothing and a chest of drawers stood by the stairwell railing. A shelf held a large television set. In the middle of the room was a round mahogany table with claw feet and two matching chairs. On the other side of the bed were a sink, a portable toilet, a trash can, and a rectangular table that held a box of adult diapers, a large plastic container of wipes, a stack of towels, and another of washcloths. Jamie was surprised to see an old-fashioned wood-and-wicker wheelchair parked by the head of the bed. Then she remembered Mary Millicent’s claim that Miss Montgomery thought she could not walk. The nurse, too.

“Do you really use the wheelchair?” she asked.

Mary Millicent nodded. “All the time.”

“Well, aren’t you the sly one!” Jamie said.

“You got it, sister,” Mary Millicent said with pride, and offered Jamie a high five.

Jamie sat on the bed beside the old woman. “How long have you lived up here?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Could be one year or a hundred for all I know. They started putting me up here just when there were guests in the house-after Amanda got all upset when I showed up at a dinner party wearing just a hula skirt. I think someone really important was there-like a king or a movie star. Then I was sick for a long time and couldn’t move or talk, and for a long time after that I was too weak to walk. But when I got stronger again, I jus’ kept on pretending to be weak. Sometimes when Amanda and Gus are here, they have one of the Mexican gardeners carry me downstairs so I can have dinner with them in the dining room. I like having men carry me. I like the feel of their muscles and the smell of their sweat,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes I reach down and pat their pee-pee. You should see the look on their faces when I do that. They don’t know if they should scream or laugh. I miss doing it with a man. I miss it a lot.”

Jamie listened to Mary Millicent’s outpouring in open-mouthed wonder. She didn’t know if she should put her fingers in her ears or laugh out loud. When Mary Millicent finally stopped, Jamie said, “You are one outrageous old woman.”

Mary Millicent put her hands on her hips. “Well, what of it?”

Jamie had to laugh. What of it, indeed? She put a hand over her mouth, fearful of making too much noise, but continued to laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. And then she stopped abruptly, putting a hand to her belly. She grabbed Mary Millicent’s hand and placed it under hers. “Can you feel it?”

“Yep. Feels like the kid has the hiccups.”

“Isn’t that just wonderful?” Jamie said in awe.

“Not particularly.”

Jamie put her arms around Mary Millicent Tutt Hartmann, retired evangelist and outrageous old lady, and said, “Oh, but you’re wrong. Baby hiccups are wonderful, and so are you.”

Chapter Seventeen

THE NEXT DAY, there was a midafternoon knock on her door.

Amanda and Toby were standing in the hallway, their arms full of gift-wrapped packages. “Merry Christmas,” they said in unison.

Jamie returned their greeting and invited them in. Ralph backed away from the door, unsure of what his reaction should be to the two strangers invading his domain.

Amanda paused and looked around the room. “You’ve changed things quite a bit,” she observed, her tone a bit less warm.

“Yes,” Jamie agreed, somewhat surprised that Amanda even recalled how the rooms had been decorated. She started to say that she hoped Amanda didn’t mind her changes but stopped herself. What happened in these two rooms was the only part of her life over which she had any control, and she wasn’t going to apologize.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Toby said, “You’re looking well, Jamie.”

“Thank you,” she said.

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