Judith Wall - The Surrogate

Ruby had left her door ajar, and Jamie called out to her, “Is it okay for Ralph to come, too?”

Ruby stuck her head around the corner. “All three of you come right on in here.”

Jamie closed the door behind her and wound her way through the crowded living room to the brightly lit kitchen, which was filled with the aromas of garlic and warm bread.

The refrigerator had a new picture-one from the newspaper of Amanda Hartmann holding the mystery baby. Once again Jamie sat with her back to the refrigerator.

Ruby dished up a generous helping of spaghetti, covered it with a thick sauce, and set it in front of Jamie. Then she filled Jamie’s glass with iced tea and put a generous slice of crusty bread on her plate.

The spaghetti was wonderful, and Jamie had to admit that it was nice having someone fuss over her, even if she didn’t approve of that person’s taste in refrigerator art.

Over coffee Ruby told Jamie that she had once been a beautician and reached across the table to lift a strand of Jamie’s hair. “Why don’t you let me give you a decent haircut tomorrow and adjust the color a bit? If you don’t want to be a blond anymore, I think you at least need some highlights for a more natural look.”

Jamie was speechless. And had to blink back tears. First there had been Mae the midwife, and now there was Ruby the landlady. She had almost forgotten what kindness felt like.

“I know you got private troubles that run real deep,” Ruby said, “but having bad hair and not having a friend you can count on shouldn’t be among them. And besides, it does a lonely old lady’s heart good to feel useful to another human being once in a while.”

After leaving Ruby’s apartment, Jamie sat on the front step while Ralph raced around the yard for a few minutes. Then she called to him and smiled as he came racing up the steps, his tail wagging and tongue hanging. Such a dear little dog he was.

In spite of her weariness, she climbed the stairs with a lighter step. It was amazing what a good meal and human kindness could do to raise one’s spirit.

Jamie, Billy, and Ralph spent the next morning downstairs with Ruby. First she shaped Jamie’s hair then touched up the roots and carried out a complicated procedure involving aluminum foil and a paintbrush. The morning was almost gone before it was time for Jamie to shampoo her hair at the kitchen sink and watch in the bathroom mirror while Ruby showed her how to use a handheld drier to fluff her hair into a soft, becoming style. The highlights softened the dark color and actually made it look more natural.

“I look like a different person,” Jamie said with relief, thinking that if she ever did get to see Joe again, she wouldn’t be embarrassed about the way she looked.

Saturday morning, Ruby introduced her to the new tenant. Lynette was a petite, gregarious brunette whose boyfriend was working on an offshore oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico. Lynette’s baby was two weeks older than Billy.

Jamie felt almost like a normal young mother sitting there among the boxes and clutter of Lynette’s apartment as they discussed sleep patterns and feeding schedules and took turns holding each other’s babies.

Lynette explained that she had completed her LPN training the month before Sally Ann was born. She hoped to get a regular shift at one of the medical center hospitals, but for now she was going to fill in as needed. “I’d like to be assigned the night shift so I can spend more waking hours with Sally Ann if that’s all right with you,” Lynette said.

Jamie assured her that the night shift would be fine. In fact, she would prefer it. A little voice in the back of her head wondered if she should warn Lynette that she might not be permanent in Oklahoma City. But she didn’t know that for sure. She didn’t know anything for sure. And it would be nice to have an income, no matter how modest.

That afternoon, she left Ralph in the apartment and, with Billy back in the infant carrier, walked south toward downtown Oklahoma City and the used-car lots strung along North Broadway. The infant carrier was cumbersome and bumped uncomfortably against her leg, but she would need it if she took a car for a test drive.

As she wandered up and down the rows of cars, she wondered how negotiable the prices painted on the windshields were. The only cars with a price she could even begin to afford looked as though they belonged in a salvage yard.

At each lot, a salesman would follow her around while she checked the tread on tires and looked under hoods for clues as to how well the motors had been maintained-the condition of belts, how clean the oil was, if the filter needed replacing, if the spark plugs were clean or dirty.

At the third lot, she selected what she considered the best of the bunch and, with the salesman in the front seat and Billy in the infant carrier fastened in the back, took a test drive. The motor ran a bit rough, and she decided to look further tomorrow, but she took the salesman’s card and said she would keep the car in mind. Then she started the long walk home with the afternoon sun beating down unmercifully.

Back in her apartment, she opened both windows. She could see that she was definitely going to need to buy a couple of fans or they were going to swelter this summer. She grilled a cheese sandwich and made a salad for dinner and entertained herself for a couple of hours working crossword puzzles with the radio as background noise. Then, with Billy in her arms, she took Ralph out front. It was a beautiful night, and she sat on the front step while Ralph carefully sniffed every bush and tree trunk as he decided the very best locations for him to deposit his pee, a few drops here and a few there. Billy’s gaze seemed to be focused on the very bright moon that was directly overhead, and she took his hands in hers and, waving them back and forth, softly sang,

Oh Mister Moon, moon, bright and shiny moon

Please shine down on,

Have a heart and shine on,

Please shine down on me, Oh Mister Moon.

The night sky brought to mind an evening when she and Joe had stretched out on the grass in the backyard and looked up at the moon through a pair of binoculars. Jamie had been aware that Joe was watching her as she studied the pockmarked lunar surface, amazed at the details she could make out with just binoculars. He told her that her hair looked silver in the moonlight. And he had touched a strand.

With her dark hair and a baby in her arms, Joe probably wouldn’t recognize her as the girl he had once known.

When Billy began to try to eat his fists, Jamie called to Ralph, who was nosing around under a yucca plant by the front steps. When he didn’t respond, she used a firmer tone, and he backed out from under the bush.

“Good boy,” she told him, scratching his head. “Let’s go upstairs and feed this baby.”

She had just finished nursing Billy when there was a knock on the door. She went to the door and, leaving the security chain engaged, opened it just an inch.

When she saw that it was Lynette, she disengaged the chain and invited her inside.

The hospital had just called, Lynette explained. The eleven o’clock shift was short, and she had been asked to fill in. “Could you look after Sally Ann?” she asked.

Jamie agreed, of course. Lynette said she would bring Sally Ann up around ten-thirty.

Jamie had hoped to purchase a secondhand playpen, which could double as a bed for Sally Ann, but she could manage for one night. She put Billy in the infant seat, changed the sheet on his bed, then took a shower. She had on a nightshirt when Lynette arrived with her baby and pink polka-dotted diaper bag.

She watched Lynette place her sleeping child in Billy’s bed, cover her with a lightweight blanket, and leave a second blanket at the foot of the bed.