The Surrogate Wife novel · Chapter 2 of 16

Chapter 2: A Toast to the Surrogate

At the boatyard gala Elaine toasts Lillian as the family surrogate and parades Peter's girlfriend as the nanny; in the coatroom Lillian overhears why they need the boys.

Harriet didn't ask me why.

She asked when I could come in.

"Two weeks," I said. "I need two weeks to get my house in order."

"Take three. The chair isn't going anywhere."

I hung up and folded a load of Lucas's tiny socks.

Nobody in the house had heard a thing.

On Saturday night Lindell Marine turned sixty.

Elaine rented the Stonington yacht club and hung the boatyard's old wooden sign over the bar.

Two hundred guests came.

Clients, suppliers, half the harbor.

I wore the green dress I'd worn to every party for six years.

Peter didn't notice it.

He was watching the door.

At eight o'clock a blonde woman walked in wearing a tight white dress.

She was maybe twenty-seven.

Around her neck was a diamond necklace I knew very well.

It had been my grandmother's.

It lived in the velvet box on my dresser.

Peter went straight to her and put his hand on the small of her back.

He steered her to Elaine.

Elaine kissed her on both cheeks.

Then she brought her to me.

"Lillian, this is Kendra Voight. She starts with the boys on Monday."

Kendra held out a limp hand.

"I've heard so much about you," she said. "They say you're very good with diapers."

"That's my grandmother's necklace."

She touched it and smiled at Peter.

"He said I could borrow it. It looked lonely."

Peter didn't look at me.

"It's one night, Lil. Don't be dramatic."

I watched him walk Kendra through the room.

He introduced her to the harbormaster.

He introduced her to the bank.

His hand never left her back.

People noticed.

People always notice.

The wife of our pediatrician found me by the raw bar.

"Is that the new nanny?" she whispered. "Honey, is everything all right?"

"Not yet," I said.

At nine Elaine tapped a glass.

The room went quiet.

She thanked the crew. She thanked her late husband Walter, who built the company from one rowboat.

Then she lifted her glass toward me.

"And to Lillian. Every family needs a good surrogate, and ours gave us three beautiful boys. We couldn't have done it without her."

A few people laughed, because they thought it was a joke.

Then they saw Elaine's face and stopped laughing.

Somebody near the bar coughed.

Peter raised his glass too.

Kendra clinked hers against it.

Two hundred people turned and looked at me.

I picked up my water glass.

I didn't let my hand shake.

"Thank you, Elaine," I said. "You're right. I did carry them."

I waited until the room was completely silent.

"And I'll be the one carrying them out of this family."

I drank.

Nobody else did.

Elaine's smile stayed on her mouth, but it left her eyes.

The band started up too loud.

I went to find my coat.

The coatroom was behind the kitchen, a narrow closet lined with wool and furs.

I was halfway into my sleeve when I heard Elaine's voice on the other side of the partition.

"You let her talk to you like that in front of the whole harbor."

"She's upset, Mom. She'll sign."

"She'd better sign. Do you understand what's at stake? Your father's shares."

I stood completely still with one arm in the coat.

"I know about the trust," Peter said.

"Then say it back to me. Walter's fifty-one percent goes into trust for the grandsons. Who controls the trust?"

"The parent with custody."

"Sole custody. Not shared. Not every other weekend. If she gets those boys, she votes your father's shares. She runs my company."

"She doesn't even know the trust exists."

"Keep it that way. Get her out of the house before she figures out what she's sitting on."

Kendra's laugh came from somewhere near them.

"Relax, Elaine. She thinks you're being mean because you don't like her."

"I don't like her," Elaine said. "That was never the point."

Their footsteps went back toward the music.

I pulled the coat the rest of the way on.

Six years.

I had thought it was about love, at first.

Then I had thought it was about grandchildren.

It was about fifty-one percent of a boatyard.

I walked out the kitchen door into the cold.

The harbor was black and flat.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text from Peter.

Where are you. Mom wants a family photo. Kendra's holding Noah.

I stared at that last line.

Kendra had never held Noah in her life.

I went back in through the front doors.

The photographer had them lined up under the old wooden sign.

Elaine in the middle.

Peter beside her.

Kendra next to him, in my grandmother's diamonds, with my baby on her hip.

Noah was twisting and reaching over her shoulder for me.

"Smile, everyone," the photographer said.

Kendra bounced him hard and hissed something in his ear.

Noah stopped reaching.

He started to scream.

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