One million dollars -- a dream come true for struggling college student Ashlynn Morgan. All she has to do is sign on the dotted line and agree to become surrogate mother for CEO multi billionaire Felix Dunnerson and his wife Deborah.
Yet, during th...
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The night at Felix's beach house on Aruba turns into an awkward torture as the minutes drag as if they were stuck in some kind of molasses time warp. I stay in the guest bedroom while he rummages around in the master bedroom for hours, keeping me awake with constant phone calls. Even though I prick my ears to catch at least snippets of the conversations, his voice is too low to hear anything. It's the unmistakable proof that he doesn't want me involved in his life outside the surrogacy arrangement any longer. It hurts like hell, yet by the time we board the plane, I have pulled myself together. Landing back on American soil is a relief.
After Felix drops me off at the condo in the early morning hours, I spontaneously decide to visit my aunt. I fly into Syracuse and rent a car to knock off the last few miles of my journey. Our cottage is just at the village line of Fair Heaven, nestled behind a bunch of trees to shield it from nosy eyes. Smoke curls up from the chimney toward the sky and adds to the thick layer of clouds hanging swollen over Lake Ontario. The icy chill of impending snow pricks my lungs with every breath. Even if my body is in shock after the warm temperatures in California, the crispness of winter is still my favorite.
I track my aunt down in her sunroom. She is curled up under a heavy quilt she had sewed herself when I first came to live with her. Studying me over her reading glasses with a small frown, her gaze is quizzical. After I give her a small smile, I fix my gaze on the lake. A few foam caps dance on the soft waves, otherwise, the waters are calm and dark, like a blanket of doom. It's no comparison to the sparkle of the turquoise Pacific I now get to see every day, yet it's still the one image I grew up around and remember the most.
"I didn't know you were coming home." The slight throatiness in my aunt's voice suggests that she caught another cold. "You should've called. I could've picked you up from the airport."
"I got a rental."
"Oh, have you won the lottery that you can afford such luxury?"
"Something like that." I drop my backpack on the chair next to her. "How about I fix us some tea?"
She regards me with an even deeper frown before nodding. "Add some more wood to the iron stove. They predicted snow tonight."
"You really should invest in some central heating, Vanessa."
"Yeah, yeah, one day, when I can afford it."
We both know that day will never come.
While I warm the water in the old-fashioned kettle, my gaze wanders around the cluttered kitchen. Everything is still in the exact same spot it's always been—it seems as if the house has been frozen in time a century ago. We still only have the outhouse, even though my aunt put in a shower just after my parents died. The stove in the kitchen and the fireplace in the living room are the only devices to keep the house cozy in the cold seasons. When we discussed in Physics class that heat rises, the concept was all too familiar to me. Add a tiny bedroom and a bunch of warm blankets, and it's actually not that bad.
