Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
It was all good.
And then…this happened.
Buzz buzz
“I was going to make a salad, but there’s a lot of veg in the pot pie. Do you think we need it?”
“Salad. Good.” I squinted at the flat-screen, my gaze locked on the Steelers’ QB as he scanned the field looking for an open man. “Throw the fucking ball. Metcalf is open. Go, go, go.”
Aaron snorted. “Salad good? These endless football soirees are turning you into a caveman, Matty.”
“Sorry, I—” I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees when the ball flew toward the end zone. Terrible pass. We were down by three with one minute left on the clock. If this play blew up, the season was over. And…sure enough, the ball was intercepted at the five-yard line. “Fuck.”
Buzz buzz
“Oh, dear. Maybe next time.”
I muted the sound and slumped in defeat into the cushions, chuckling as Murphy jumped on my lap and licked my nose. “Thanks, Murph. Papa means next year. He doesn’t realize that was the divisional round. We were so close to victory, buddy. So close.”
“Murphy, you’re not supposed to be on the sofa, you naughty red ball of cuteness. We’ll skip the salad, Matty. Carbs will cure your blues,” Aaron singsonged as he bent to pick up my cell vibrating across the coffee table. “This has been going off all afternoon.”
“Hmph. I’m not blue, I’m disappointed. Again.”
“Maybe you should root for a different team,” he suggested, dropping my cell in my lap.
I gasped in dismay. “A different team? That’s sacrilege! You don’t turn on your team. You stick with ’em…even if they break your—”
I glanced at the caller ID and froze.
Unlike the unfamiliar number that had left intermittent messages for me last month, I recognized this one.
I half expected Aaron’s phone to go off too, but no…at the end, I’d been adamant that all contact went through me. I didn’t want anything to upset him, and that chapter had been so fucking upsetting.
We’d needed a break. I’d asked for a year-long reprieve.
And holy shit…almost a year had gone by now. We’d been so caught up in planning for the baby that I’d lost track of the time. I swiped to voice mail and pressed Play.
“Have you gone into shock, Matty? Is it unkind to say it’s just a game?” Aaron clucked his tongue, gliding from the stove to the island with Murphy drooling at his feet. “I’ll kiss your boo-boo better after dinner. Or…I can probably squeeze in a quick BJ while the pot pie cools down. A little tension relief is always a good idea and we need to get in all the spontaneous sex we possibly can before the bebé comes. I know I’m wandering into TMI territory, but Jay told me that between his monster-in-law, the nanny, and chronic sleep deficit, sex was a distant memory after the twins were born. Ugh, that sounds awful, but—oh, honey, you look positively shocked. It won’t be that bad. We’ll always make time for each other and—”
“That’s not it. I’m…” I raked my fingers through my hair, then put my phone on speaker mode and replayed the message. “You need to hear this.”
Hi, Matt, this is Gabby Fischer from Growing Tree Adoption. Happy New Year to you and Aaron. I apologize for calling you on a weekend, but I have a rather emergent case that’s come up. Our affiliate tried contacting you last month and asked us to act as a liaison if possible. This is important and time sensitive, and obviously you’re under no obligation whatsoever, but I think this is something you’re going to want to hear.
Aaron had gone pale. “That’s not Lena, right? She’s okay? Our baby’s okay, right?”
“Yes.” I moved around the island and hugged him. “It’s the adoption agency.”
“Oh. Matty, I don’t think I can do it again.” His voice rose in a panicked pitch.
“We’ll call back and explain that our circumstances have changed since last year, and we’ve moved on…or something like that.” I scrubbed my hand over my face and picked up my phone. “Look, I’ll take care of it right now. You don’t have to listen.”
He nodded. “I’ll stay here. In case you need me.”
I always needed him. Always.
But I knew what he meant. We’d spent many months waiting for calls like this one. The ones we’d received were for unwanted pregnancies with contingencies, but we’d been open to immediate placement too. We’d just never been called…till now.
“Hi, this is Matt Mendez-Sullivan. May I speak to Gabby, please?”
“Matt! Thank you so much. I hate bothering you on a weekend, but as I mentioned, I have a sensitive matter at hand and—”
“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we decided to go the surrogate route last year, and our baby is due next month.”
“Congratulations! That’s wonderful news,” Gabby gushed.
“Thanks, we appreciate it. Good luck with your placement and—”