Page 5 of Baby Maker

“Well, whichever one of you bet on me having a baby wins.”

The ensuing silence is deafening as my gaze moves from one awestruck face to the other. You know it’s a bombshell when you manage to quiet these two down. They never lack a retort.

“You’re… I’m sorry, I must have heard you wrong.” Bridget places her hand over her throat, clearing it and buying some time for me to negate my statement. “Did you say—”

“That I’m going to have a baby.”

Simon claps me around the shoulder, letting loose with a surprised guffaw. “Look at you—little sneak. Here I thought you were holed up in your house, eating pints of ice cream. Meanwhile, you’ve been dating on the down-low. Pretty seriously, I might add. Good for you, Luv. What’s his name? You know I have to meet him, right?”

“His name is Nigel.”

More silence. I swear the entire restaurant has shut up in anticipation of this conversation.

Simon and Bridget exchange glances—their faces a mix of confused happiness.

“What are the chances he has the same name? Is he British, too?”

“He is, actually. And he has much in common with Nigel because he is Nigel.”

“Oh, my God.” The words slip past Bridget’s mouth, and I can tell from her face that she thinks I’ve lost the last vestiges of my sanity. “Calli, you know Nigel is gone.”

I drum the table with my fingers, glaring at each of them. “I’m aware, but thank you for that unnecessary reminder. Although Nigel is gone, his sperm is still very much here.” I grab my cocktail, sucking down half the contents. Hey, I’m not pregnant yet. “It’s not that outlandish, folks. When Nigel got his diagnosis, we were already in the process of freezing his sperm. We planned IVF since we weren’t having any luck the natural way. We figured that as soon as Nigel went into remission, we would thaw out his swimmers and grab a turkey baster. But he never went into remission, and I’ve yet to use the turkey baster.”

Bridget eyes the tablecloth, although I guarantee the answer isn’t hiding under her salad fork. “Are you certain this is what you want to do?”

Her question raises my ire. “I’m quite certain. I love Nigel. I want to have his child. Continue his legacy. What’s so wrong with that idea?”

Her hand grasps mine, offering some measure of comfort. “There’s nothing wrong with it, and Nigel was an amazing man. But it’s tough being a single mom, Calli.”

“You were a single mom until Simon came along.”

“Not by choice. I’m not saying that you can’t do it. God knows that you’re unstoppable when you set your mind to something. But it will not be easy.”

The harsh bark of laughter escapes my lips before I have a chance to rein it back. “Nothing has been easy these last twenty months. Nothing, except this decision.” I clutch each of their hands in turn, my eyes beseeching them to understand. “I need your support. This is the most important thing I’ve ever done, but I need to know that my friends are behind me.”

Simon downs the rest of his drink, motioning to the server for a refill. “Calliope, I know that you’ll be an amazing mum. No doubt about it. If this is what your heart is set on, then I applaud you. I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” he adds, eliciting a groan from me, “I want you to consider two things.”

“Which are?”

“One is that you’ve suffered a few miscarriages already. You need to consider that there may be something anatomically amiss that might prevent you from carrying Nigel’s baby. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, only to have them dashed.”

I nod in agreement. This is not the first time I considered the possibility. Hell, after the first miscarriage, I assumed there was something wrong with me. By the third one, I was convinced I was broken. “You’re right, and I’ve decided that if I can’t carry the child safely, I will hire a surrogate.”

“They’re ridiculously expensive, Calli,” Bridget adds. “Do you have that kind of money?”

“I do. Nigel, being Nigel, had an obscene life insurance plan. I have more than enough to cover the surrogate costs all the way up to when our child goes to college.”

I know their concerns are valid, but I need to maintain my momentum. Every one of their questions is an obstacle tossed onto my mental racetrack, slowing me down. I don’t want to take the time to consider the what if’s of the scenario.

I just want the baby. Our baby.

“What was your other concern, Simon?” I inquire, smiling as the server brings around a refill. Keep them coming, sir.

Like I said, I’m not pregnant yet.

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