Essence of Time (30 page)

Alarmed, Lila leaned forward. “You okay Sara?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m just…” Sara shook her head. “I’m sick of hearing about myself. Tell me about you.”

Lila blushed. “Oh, my life is pretty sad really.”

Sara patted her shoulder. “Nonsense. Can’t be much worse than my story. Except for the bit about you being a great mom and me being marginal at best.”

Lila straightened. She liked this woman, her new friend. She was blunt, straightforward, pulled no punches. “Well, Maddie’s father was, is, an investment banker, lives in Plymouth with a fresh new family now.” Sara stayed silent so Lila went on, spilling her guts in a way she’d never done before. “I played scholarship soccer at Notre Dame. But was a shitty student. Graduated and had nothing to do and nowhere to go so I landed in Plymouth.” She named a small city a few miles east of Ann Arbor. “Got a job waiting tables. Alan, my ex, he was a regular and, well, we … we um, well I let him fuck me. In the parking lot. At the bar.” She blushed again, suddenly furious with herself for telling all of this lame ass shit to an obviously successful woman.

Sara smiled at her. “Yes, well I can certainly relate to being seduced in public places.  Go on.”

“I got pregnant right away. And he did the right thing at first. Married me. Then after Maddie was born he decided I was fat and boring. So he left.” She sipped her wine, letting the memory of Alan’s last horrible words to her burn in her brain.

“You were nothing more than an easy lay, Lila. And that’s all you ever will be. I need more. I’ll take care of you and the girl of course.”

She scoffed at the memory. “Yeah, so his idea of ‘taking care of us’ is this crappy, roach infested hole,” she gestured around at the small but meticulously clean apartment. “And he’s moved on to a fresh new family, a wife with a college degree and a couple of perfect kids. I guess.” Tears stung her eyes. She stood, suddenly wanting to be left alone.

Sara stayed seated, her head cocked to one side. Her eyes contemplative. Lila grinned and shrugged. “So there you have it. I work thirty-five hours a week at a bookstore. Alan pays our insurance. I’m just this side of dead broke pretty much every month. Not too exciting.” She lifted her wine glass.

“I have an idea for you Lila,” Sara said, startling her. “But you have to keep an open mind about it. Deal?”

Blake stared into the middle distance barely noting what usually pleased him. Sounds of Katie and her friends screeching as they played tag with a group of boys from another team, sensation of warmth from the sun on his skin, taste of deep chocolate ice cream he was finishing, as usual, for his niece. 

Rob’s scare with the lung “shadow” had been real, but they’d managed it, and he was safely considered “in remission” still. Blake now knew way more about blasts, anemia, consolidation therapy, and limited-stage lung cancer than he really cared to. Despite numerous doctor visits, a few doses of “mild” chemotherapy that had left Rob sicker than any man had a right to be and still live, the intervening year had been somehow easier for them too. As if a pall had been lifted from their relationship, allowing Blake to truly understand what made his partner tick. They’d evened out the whole who-relied-on-whom thing too, allowing themselves to be strong or weak at various times. A weird dance to be certain, but somehow worked perfectly.

But for one thing.

After the first six months of hell, where they’d both been forced to let go of their tightly held, some would say obsessive daily control over the brew pub, Rob had bounced back like a champ. “Shadow” as they’d come to call it, had faded to a mere pinprick on the scans and in the past few nights they’d come to rediscover each other physically in ways that brought a slight flush to Blake’s cheeks as he sat and watched without seeing anything in front of him.

But the issue of family kept coming up, this time from Rob’s lips. He was getting a little manic about it, which worried Blake. It had become less urgent for him. More important to get hold of this fucking disease that threatened the man he loved and wrestle it to the ground, once and for all. Not letting the “shadow” or the “cancer librarian” as Rob called her, ever show their faces anywhere near them again felt more mission critical than finding a convenient womb to hold their child. Rob’s flippancy with the whole thing made him nearly apoplectic, but he'd had a lot of years to get his head around it. Blake had had exactly twelve months.

They’d changed the way they ate, going nearly completely vegetarian, which made them both grumpy as they were dyed-in-the-wool carnivores. But all the studies—endless internet sites devoted to relapse and relocation of cancers after years of remission that Blake had stayed up nights reading while Rob tossed and turned, sweating out the stink of the poisons he’d had injected into him—agreed: Diet mattered, and the cleaner, less cluttered with potential triggers the better. So out went their previously favorite meals of grilled lamb chops or filets. Rob’s kisses had tasted metallic then, which scared Blake to death, but he never stopped kissing him. He did not want Rob to think for a second he’d be shirking duties as caretaker-in-charge. But he would never forget that taste. And now, finally, this afternoon, they were interviewing a potential surrogate mother. His palms broke out in a sweat at the thought of it. The responsibility weighed heavy on him, making him nervous as hell.

He glanced up as Sara took the seat across from him. “Thanks.” He muttered when she handed him a steaming cardboard cup containing some kind of caffeine. It no longer mattered, just as long as it brought him out of his semi-hazed state of little sleep and constant worry.

“So this woman is a single mom. Really nice. But, she got seriously shafted by the ex-husband. She’s a little fragile. I’m not sure about it really, but she seems eager for the cash.”  Blake nodded, only half hearing her. Together they watched the girls kick the ball around in silence. Blake noted a woman, petite, strong, laughing and giving them a few pointers. He narrowed his eyes. She moved like a natural athlete, letting the girls get past her some, then colliding with them dragging them to the grass with her, their laughter wafting across to him. The woman stood, brushed herself off and waved to Sara who waved back.

“Lila. New soccer mom. Sad story really. Divorced, miserable, still thinks her dickhead banker husband will take her back.” Sara sipped. “But she wants to meet you, talk to you guys about your proposal.”

“You are such a cynic.” Blake stared as the woman made her way over to them. She was petite close up, with a pert nose, bright smile and deep brown eyes. Her coal black hair was scraped back in a severe ponytail. Blake sat up a little straighter. The genuine smile she shot him made his scalp tingle.  A strange silence settled over the table that Sara broke by clearing her her throat. “Oh,” Blake gulped when he realized an essential truth: The beautiful creature before them was interested in being a surrogate mother for his and Rob’s child.

“So, Lila, this is my brother. Blake.” The woman put out a hand, Blake blinked. Sara kicked his shin, making him start, and the lovely vision in front of him break out in peals of laughter. “He’s usually not so rude.” She frowned at him as he rubbed his leg, shrugged and stood to take her hand. The second their palms touched, he shivered. He hadn’t seen such beautiful, delicate feminine perfection since… well, since Suzanne, he surmised. Realizing he’d been clutching her hand for about a second longer than was necessary his face flushed and he stuck both hands in his pockets.

She tilted her head and observed him, her eyes sparkling in a way that he would very much like to be the cause of. He shook himself. Typical male reactions were never far from the surface. He valued beauty in men and women, always had.  A tendril of silky looking hair curled around her temple. He had to force himself not to tuck it behind her ear. Every molecule of his caretaker personality zinged in response to her somehow.
No
. He sat, clutching his coffee again.
The last time you felt this way about a woman you spent years getting over her
.
Cut the shit. This is not about getting attached to her. This is about making the family you and Rob want so badly.

He heard the two women talking, but studiously ignored them, as his body kept sending little shockwaves of energy to his brain. Lila’s leg brushed his under the table and he nearly jumped a mile to put space between them. He spent the next fifteen minutes in misery, trying to avoid how he was reacting to her, and keep up a bit of conversation on his end without sounding like a mental patient. He saw Rob approaching from his truck with relief. The sight of his tall, blonde, for-now healthy body had its usual calming effect on his rattled nerves. He put a hand on Blake’s shoulder, looked over at the newcomer in their midst. Blake was shocked to see a look that must have mirrored his when he first got a load of the lovely woman on his lover’s face. “Rob. Lila. New soccer mom.” His voice sounded scratchy. Rob glanced at him a second and translated a message Blake caught loud and clear.

Sara kicked him again. “Ow, dammit,” he frowned at her. “How do you manage to find the same spot every time?” He rubbed the rising knot on his shin. She gave him a measured look.

“Years of dedicated practice. Okay, well, let’s get to lunch shall we?” She stood, pulling the other woman along with her. Blake was suddenly all thumbs and knocked his half-f coffee over, spilling hot, brown liquid across the concrete picnic table surface.  Rob slid out from his seat in a graceful motion and put an arm around Sara.

Rob smiled at Lila and Blake saw, in that split second, they might have found what they needed. Rob yelled for Katie who came running at her usual break-neck pace and leapt into his arms.

“Uncle Rob! You look so much better! Do you feel better? Mommy said you had the bad flu.” Blake kept brushing at his coffee-contaminated jeans. After returning from the Blue Cruise vacation, they’d decided two things: One, to find a surrogate to have at least one baby for them. While they admitted to each other that they’d prefer a loving, three-person relationship, they knew those were the stuff of optimistic romance novels. They’d settle for the surrogate for now. Secondly, they agreed to tell Sara about the cancer, but not Katie. Not until they had to. It had been tough enough telling his sister. Blake shivered with the memory of that day.

“Yes, princess, I am much, much better.” Rob kissed Katie’s cheek and shifted her around to his back.

“Can you come with us to lunch? Can he come, Mommy? And Uncle Blake too?” Sara looked at Rob, who raised an innocent eyebrow as Blake caught up with them. “We’re going to Café Zola. My favorite! Let’s go!” Katie reached out to clutch at Blake with her other arm.  “And I want to ride in the truck. Maddie! Come ride in my uncles’ truck with me! They play whatever music we want!” The girl jumped onto the grass and grabbed her new friend as they made a beeline for Rob’s black F-150. 

Blake smiled sweetly at Sara as Rob chatted with Lila about her former life as a scholarship soccer player. Sara flipped him off, and then yanked him away from the other two.  “Listen,” she hissed. “Lila has been through hell this year. You boys lighten up on the full-court press, okay? I don’t think she can take it.”

“Dear sister,” Blake opened the truck door for the giggling little girls. “We just want to get to know her, that’s all. We’re all adult here and she agreed to the meeting…” his voice trailed off. “And what full-court press are you talking about anyway? All I’ve done is stare and spill shit and try not to drool to obviously.”

Sara gave him a look dripping with skepticism, then shrugged and climbed into her expensive German SUV.  “Besides,” he leaned into her open window. “You are in no position to give relationship advice. You and Jack act like a married couple ninety percent of the time. Why not just become one?”

“Since when do you advocate for Jack Gordon?” She stared straight ahead. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.” He jumped back as she hit the window button, watched Rob chatting with Lila another minute. A tiny finger of jealousy licked at his consciousness, unsure who he was jealous of at that moment; he leaned on the truck. Lila looked at him once, setting his nerves on fire again.

**** 

Lila’s hand shook as she downshifted. The rust-bucket car shuddered and came to a stop at a red light. She lifted it off the shifter, observing the trembling with a sort of distant objectiveness. Swallowing the strange lump that had risen in her throat in the last hour or so, she rolled her head around and tried to dispel the tension. She stared at the gauges, then out the window, and then jumped when someone behind her honked. Since it was the Midwest, she’d probably been sitting at the green light for a minute or two before being gently reminded to move it along.

It had been a solid year and a half since her husband had announced he was leaving, that he’d lost his job at one bank, was going to another one, and she would have to move out because he’d sold the house. Their house. Oh, and an added bonus to the agony, he was “with” someone else. Some hotshot banker bitch at the place he was leaving. An entire eighteen months of second guessing herself, of coming to terms with her own failure as a wife, until she’d found some new friends, including Sara who’d convinced it was pretty much not her fault at all.

A tear slid down her face, one of millions she’d shed. But the phantom voice of her ex-husband somehow did not sting so sharply now. No, a new vision floated through her brain.  That of one tall, handsome, blond man with a quick grin, and a quieter, just as good-looking guy with deep green eyes and darker hair, both of them watching her. She sucked in a breath.  Sara had told her about her brother and his partner. She knew what they needed. She put a hand on her stomach and bit her lip. Sara had tried to talk her out of it, but one thing she knew how to do was get and stay pregnant. And, truthfully, she wanted to be again, even if it meant a loveless business arrangement.

Sara had made it clear that the two men loved each other and had no need for a third, but they wanted something she could provide. Now that she’d gotten a look at them she wanted it even more, but her heart sped up a little too fast when considering a simple business deal. Lila sensed how first Blake, then Rob, had reacted to her. It could be something more, something complicated.  And complication was the one thing she could do without. She parked, climbed out of her car, determined to walk away from this whole thing. But, one quick glance at the gleaming black truck and the two extraordinarily good-looking – okay, she admitted to herself—smoking-hot men emerging from it, and Lila knew for the first time in her life how it felt to have truly wobbly knees.