That brought even more raucous responses.
“God, you people are sick!”
“But you love us anyway!” Harry shouted.
“Yes, I do. But no, we’re not taking my siblings to Key West. We’re going to John T. Mather.”
“The hospital?” Harry wasn’t laughing anymore. Brynn held onto his arm.
“Yes. Jill’s been taken there. A little while ago she had her baby.” He looked around, and when he saw his Uncle Pete, he gave him a thumbs up. Pete had been thrilled to learn this little boy was going to be named after him. “They’re fine,” Wills said for the third time. “We’re going to see them. The hall has been rented until midnight, so Theo and I would like you all to stay and enjoy the music and the Venetian hour.”
“Guess what? I think you could have held your breath.” The room emptied out as everyone went for their cars. “Is this what we can expect with our son, Wills?”
“You bet. It’ll be an adventure, babe.”
I slid my arm around him, and we just stood there for a moment. And then I smiled into his eyes and said, “Yes, I guess it will be.”
As soon as we got back from Key West, Wills and his cousin met with the genetic counselor, had blood drawn, and then we settled in to wait.
When Cathy and Lexi got those positions with the Ambassador, Cathy made sure she left behind a supply of viable ova. Lexi left us the contact information for a surrogate who would carry the baby.
* * * *
It had been a stressful autumn; not only was Wills in and out of DC on the job, but each month that went by with no pregnancy made us feel the pressure more and more. With Cathy out of the country, the ova she’d left us were running low.
“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Wills said. “We’ll just have your baby first.”
But he’d wanted that baby so badly, as a reminder of his mother both for himself and his father, and I couldn’t blame him. Jack Matheson was a good man.
* * * *
We learned in the middle of January that Samantha Nelson, the woman Lexi had found to be our surrogate, was finally pregnant. 2004 was going to be a busy year for us.
Every evening after dinner, Wills would work on the baby’s room. I’d help as much as I could, but mostly I leaned against the doorframe and watched as he laid a new bamboo floor and painted the moon and stars on the ceiling.
I’d always known that Wills wearing a tool belt rang my chimes, but it was a little disconcerting to discover that the sight of paint splatters in his dark brown hair was a turn on as well. I had those lick me, suck me, fuck me jeans of his down around his knees and him up against the wall before he realized what I intended.
By this point I knew well enough that if he didn’t want any of this, he could physically take me apart. He did want it, though, and I loved that he let me manhandle him.
“Wills.” I curled the fingers of one hand around his hip and worked his cock
He gave a snort of laughter and turned his head to meet my lips. God, I loved kissing him, but I wanted more. I backed away a step and spun him around, then dove in for more kisses. And while I fed off his mouth, I reached into my pocket, where I’d just so happened to stash a tube of lube.
“It pays to be prepared, doesn’t it, babe,” he whispered into my mouth.
It did.
* * * *
Having a guest stay on the couch in my office or Wills’s for a night or two was doable, but for the long term, it wouldn’t have been comfortable for Samantha or convenient for us.
We’d been renting out the attic apartment as an executive rental property, but I contacted the company we dealt with and told them it would be unavailable for the next eight months. Wills didn’t have to do much to get it ready for our surrogate. Unlike the artist who’d just about trashed the apartment, the men and women who stayed for a few days or weeks treated it well. Wills set it up with an intercom in case Samantha needed us, and we moved her in.
Wills was pleased with her because of her height, almost six feet in her socks. “I know it won’t have anything to do with the baby, but maybe that’ll give our little boy a boost.”
I was pleased with her because she wasn’t a redhead.
She never really became part of the family, but maybe that was as it should be, given the situation. However, she didn’t turn her nose up at the ladies downstairs, and they liked her for what she was doing for us. Even Miss Su got along with her.
We joined Samantha at every appointment with Dr. Hung, her obstetrician. There was no way I was going to say a word about that name, especially since Dr. Hung was a petite woman of Chinese extraction.
And when Samantha went for her first sonogram, we had the tech print out extra images so we each had one to carry in our wallets as well as mailing them to the families.
Ma and Poppa were ambivalent about the coming baby, but Acacia was thrilled to be an aunt.