Sister's Choice (10 page)

“Still not as good as I want, but better. Maybe twelve gallons and a little closer to the surface.”

“What now?” Jamie asked.

“We keep looking.”

Cash tried three other places with mixed results. One was acceptable. He thought the water was probably about two hundred feet down, with perhaps as much as fifteen gallons a minute.

“I want twenty or more,” he said. “All the problems with drought we’ve had, I want some insurance.”

Jamie was into the spirit. She wasn’t a true believer, but she was enjoying herself. The girls had joined her temporarily, but now they were off looking for crickets. “Where are you going to try next?”

“Where I ought to have right off the bat.”

“And that would be?”

“The old well.”

“But we already know it’s not producing enough for a new house, right?”

He was standing beside her, his hip just brushing hers. She could smell the clean scent of his skin and clothes, a pleasant merger of laundry detergent and spicy aftershave. “Come on, let’s try something.”

The three of them started toward the area on the other side of the house where the well was situated. About twenty feet away, Cash stopped, took off his cap and pushed it down over Jamie’s head, the bill forward to shade her face.

“You’re going to give it a try,” he said, offering the rods.

“I don’t have an ounce of psychic ability. I never know what’s going to happen until it’s all over with. Even then, I’m not always sure.”

“You don’t sense things with those little girls of yours, follow up on ideas that just occur out of nowhere? You don’t have hunches?”

She couldn’t deny it, although she believed her “hunches” were simply clues that had gathered in her subconscious until she finally recognized them. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Sure it is. What are you afraid of?”

“Not a single thing. I’m just warning you this’ll be a bust.”

“Sure will, if you go into it with that attitude. Dowsing is like anything else. You’re positive—your outcome is positive.”

Despite her own warning, she thought this might be fun. She held out her hands. He gave her the rods, then slipped around behind her and put his arms around her, resting his hands on hers. “Like this.”

She was surprised at the contact, which was perfectly justified. She was more surprised at the warmth suffusing her, which had nothing to do with the July sun.

“No, turn your hands,” he said. “There. That’s right. Not too hard. Just let them do the work. Now stand there and imagine the well you want. Ask for twenty gallons at least, no more than two hundred feet down. That’s an average around here, so close to the river.” He didn’t move away. His breath, when he spoke, was soft against her ear.

“Who am I asking?”

“Doesn’t matter who. Just ask with the idea you’ll get an answer.”

“To whom it may concern, I guess. Then what?”

“Then you start to move. Slowly. Let things happen.” He moved away, as if to give her the space she needed. She was sorry he had.

She concentrated on following Cash’s orders. Like Gig, she was afraid she could parade back and forth in the middle of the river, and the wires would never touch. Still, this was an experiment. She tried to clear her mind, and she tried to have faith.

When she was as centered and positive as she could manage, she began to walk slowly in the direction of the well. Nothing happened except that her arms felt heavy and rigid because of the way she was gripping the plastic pen casing. She moved slowly and tried to imagine water flowing in the ground beneath her.

Suddenly all her senses snapped into a single track, and she could almost hear a river flowing. At the same moment, the wires fell together.

“You all right?” Cash asked. Without her realizing it, he had come to stand beside her. He rested his hand lightly on her shoulder.

“I must be more tired than I thought. My arms and hands are weak. I guess I couldn’t hold it right. And I was sort of fading out there. I need a nap.”

He laughed. “Not likely. Come over here.”

She followed him to a spot about twenty yards away. “What now?”

“You walk back the way we came. But first, remember what I told you before. Ask for what you want.”

“I feel a little silly and a whole lot tired.”

“Dowsing never killed anybody. Give it another try.”

She shrugged. After a moment, she repeated the entire sequence. The centering, the slow amble, the effort to hold her arms steady.

Suddenly she could almost smell the water below her—just at the moment when the wires crossed again.

“Almost the same place,” Cash said. “Only about six feet away. That probably means we’d want to dig right here.” He stepped to a point between the first and the second spots where her wires had crossed.

She thrust the rods in his direction. “Don’t trust me.
You
give it a try.”

“You’d better believe it. But I know a dowser when I see one. Welcome to the trade.”

She stepped back. He approached the spot from several angles, taking his time, rocking back and forth whenever he reached the place he had pinpointed. It was only about fifteen feet from the old well. When he seemed secure, he put the rods back in the bag.

“This is our spot,” he said. He moved away, picked up a rock and brought it back to mark the location. “Gig’ll put a few more here, right, Gig?”

Jamie still couldn’t believe it, even after experiencing something herself when the rods were in her hands. “But the old well’s funky. You told me so yourself. Why would we want a new one so close?”

“Because they didn’t dig deep enough the first time. I’d say there are two springs here. They tapped into the first one pretty quick and stopped. Drilling deeper would have cost more, and Mrs. Spurlock was probably happy enough with what she got. But the big seam is another fifty feet down. You’ll have a well you can be proud of.”

“How many gallons?” Gig asked.

“I’m betting on forty, maybe more. And just two hundred feet down, at the most. Maybe a hundred or so that’ll need casing, another hundred into the limestone.”

“Casing’s to keep the dirt out,” Gig explained. “Don’t need it once you go through rock. We could maybe drill the old well deeper, but I’m betting that pipe would need replacing anyway. Better to just start fresh.”

Jamie was sorting through this extraordinary event, trying to figure out exactly how it had happened. “You’re not kidding?” she asked at last. “You’re not trying to make me think I succeeded when I didn’t?”

“That would be a whole lot of kidding, wouldn’t it? Asking the men to drill here just because you thought you got a reaction? No, there’s water here, right where you found it.”

“But I’m not a dowser. I can’t do this.”

Cash laughed. “Looks to me like you just did.”

A
fter that, Jamie had to invite Cash to dinner. This only made sense, since she hadn’t properly thanked him for all the time he’d spent building the playhouse. Maybe Kendra had paid for his labor, but she doubted her sister had expected anything so creative and beautifully constructed. A lot more had gone into the playhouse than had strictly needed to.

He accepted without hesitation and promised he would be back at seven.

The minute Jamie got to the cabin, she asked herself what she was doing. She was too savvy about her own motives not to know. She made a stab at pretending she had invited him to tell him she was pregnant. But even if that were true, the real reason was that she liked Cash. A lot. And although he hadn’t exactly been knocking down the cabin door, she thought he liked her, too.

And darn it, she was lonely.

She reminded herself that she had been lonely when she hooked up with Seamus Callahan, too. Loneliness had driven them together, and good sense had parted them. Her fling with Seamus had been short-lived and fertile. Loneliness could be downright dangerous.

“What shall we make for Cash?” she asked Hannah. “We could barbecue, or I could make the pasta with artichoke hearts that you like so much.”

“Both.” Hannah was trying to finish the book of crossword puzzles she had started at the clinic that morning.

She decided Hannah was right. That way, if he didn’t like one, he could eat the other. She refused to ask herself why she was overachieving for this man.

The puzzles lost their glamour, and the girls went out to spruce up the playhouse. Jamie had taken them to the local discount store to pick out colorful cushions to sit on and fabric to thumbtack around the windows. They’d stored some of their favorite outdoor toys on the tiny porch, and underneath, bright plastic buckets and shovels, sieves, molds and watering cans to make their own sand castles.

While Jamie chopped and sautéed, she considered ways to explain her situation to Cash. Then the girls had to be next. On their way home, Hannah had quizzed her about the fertility clinic. So far, Jamie had explained the visit as a checkup, like Hannah’s checkups at the pediatrician. But Hannah was too smart to buy that for long. Particularly when Kendra and Isaac had showed up at the clinic, as well.

Cash, of course, would understand the technicalities, but the emotions? How could she explain those?

Last week, she had marinated and frozen a pork tenderloin, so tonight she only had to defrost it for the grill. The pasta recipe was simple. She made a salad with farmers’ market tomatoes and basil, topped with smoked mozzarella and a dash of balsamic vinegar. Dessert was fresh peach cobbler. By the time she heard his pickup arrive, everything was nearly ready.

Cash didn’t come right up to the house. She heard him talking to the girls, then heard their laughter. By the time he climbed the steps, the table on the front porch was set. The girls had remained at least temporarily in their playhouse.

“I brought them a little something,” Cash explained. “It might be a while before they can be coaxed out again.”

“You already spoiled them with the house.” She smiled to belie her words. She saw that he had changed into something slightly more formal. Gone were the Rosslyn and Rosslyn shirt and shorts. He wore khakis and a dark red dress shirt. She had changed, too, and wondered about the meaning of his crisply pleated pants and her own thigh-high sundress.

“Can they be spoiled? They seem refreshingly down-to-earth to me,” he said.

She thought of the money she had inherited. “I have to work at that and always will. What was the present?”

“I made them a little table and stools to fit in one corner.”

“That is so nice. That’s just what the house needed.”

Cash held out a wine bottle. “I brought this. You don’t need to serve it tonight, but it was a very good year.”

Although he made a point of being a six-pack kind of guy, it didn’t surprise her that Cash knew “a very good year” when he came across one. She was pretty sure that what you see was not what you got with this man.

“I’ll save it for my next dinner party,” she said, keeping her voice light. “I don’t drink, but I love to serve good wine to my friends and family.” She hesitated, then forged ahead. “I’ve had problems with substance abuse. Alcohol wasn’t my drug of choice, but I don’t see any point in doing a survey to see what I can handle and what I can’t.”

“You didn’t have to tell me all that.”

“It saves a lot of time, don’t you think?” She looked up from straightening the napkins. He didn’t look distressed or turned off.

“It takes courage to admit you aren’t perfect.”

“Oh, did you think I was?”

“Verging in that direction. Although since the girls’ daddies aren’t on the scene, I’d say you haven’t been lucky in love.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love. And I never set out to have children by the girls’ fathers. I was as surprised as they were. Luckily, both times, once the shock passed, I was thrilled.”

“It’s a lot of work, raising two little girls alone.”

“I can’t think of better work.”

“They’re lucky to have you.”

He sounded sincere. She felt the compliment blooming inside her. A smile bloomed, too. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“Is that why you’re here? To spend a quiet summer with them, away from everything else?”

He had opened the door; now all she had to do was walk through it. But before she could tell him about the pregnancy, Hannah and Alison came screeching up the steps to rhapsodize about his wonderful present.

“I have a pork tenderloin,” she said, over the noise. “And the grill should be hot. How do you feel about doing the honors? I will, if you don’t want to, but it might take a while before I can get to it.”

“No problem. I’ll do it, and the girls can help. Just tell me how you want it.”

Once they sat down to eat, she was proud of the food and delighted by the response. Cash ate like a starving man, and even the girls found nothing to complain about. The conversation was geared to their level, and by the time she went into the kitchen to pile the dishes in the small but efficient dishwasher, Cash was in the midst of a game of chess with Hannah and Alison was demonstrating somersaults.

She didn’t get to talk to him again until the girls went off to brush their teeth. She made a pot of coffee and poured him a cup, setting it in front of him on the table, where he was boxing up the plastic chess pieces.

“I should have warned you,” she said, “you not being a father. They take up a lot of space. Can you stay a little longer, so we can chat after I put them to bed?”

“That would be a pleasure.”

“It’s cool on the porch, and you can still count the stars.”

“I’ll wait for you out there.”

The girls came to say good night to Cash. Traveling back and forth to Arlington had tired them out, and Jamie was surprised when they went to their room without a fuss. With Cash waiting, she hoped to avoid story time, but that was not to be.

Hannah settled herself on the top bunk, and Jamie leaned over to kiss her good night.

“What’s a surrogate?” Hannah asked.

Jamie knew she’d waited too long to talk to her daughters. Hannah picked up on everything. “Where did you hear the word?”

“At the clinic today. A nurse said you are a surrogate. Are you sick, Mommy?”

While Alison always called her Mommy, Hannah rarely used the title. Jamie wasn’t certain why. Sometimes she thought Hannah was reluctant to admit that they were somehow unequal. Hannah certainly understood that Jamie was in charge, but most of the time, she preferred not to make a point of it. When she did call her Mommy, it meant she was especially worried about something.

Jamie smoothed back her daughter’s dark hair. “If you were worried, why didn’t you ask me earlier, when you were asking about the clinic?”

Hannah shrugged.

Jamie guessed Hannah had feared the answer and had delayed the question until the pressure built too high. She leaned over and kissed her again. “I’m absolutely not sick. I promise. Being a surrogate is a good thing.”

She peeked at Alison, whose eyes were still wide open, and decided the time had come.

“Let me tell you a story,” Jamie said, “so you’ll understand. Can you both stay awake?”

She’d been wondering how to tell them about the babies, and this idea had occurred to her on the way home. She hoped it would be a beginning.

“Once there was a mommy duck. She wanted baby ducks more than she wanted anything else in the world. Every day she would see other mommies with their newly hatched ducklings swimming in the pond, and she’d feel so sad.”

“Why was she sad?” Alison asked.

“Because this mommy duck could lay eggs. Lots of eggs. But she was such a little duck, so light, that when she sat on her eggs, they couldn’t hatch. You see, she couldn’t keep them warm enough, or cover them exactly the right way. And year after year, her eggs didn’t turn into baby ducklings.”

“I don’t like sad stories,” Hannah said. “I sometimes cry.”

“Don’t cry, because this isn’t a sad story. You see, this mommy had a sister. And her sister saw how sad the mommy duck was and how much she wanted to swim in the pond with her very own ducklings. So she told the mommy duck, ‘If you lay eggs in your nest, then I will come and sit on them until they hatch. I am larger and I can keep them warm. Then you’ll have your very own ducklings, and soon you’ll be swimming in the pond with your baby ducklings floating along right behind you.’”

“Did she?”

“Well, at first the mommy duck had to think about this. If she didn’t hatch the eggs herself, then whose babies would the ducklings really be? Would they really be hers, or would they be her sister’s? Who should teach them how to float along on the pond, paddling their little duckling feet? But the sister duck promised that the ducklings would not belong to her. They would belong to the mommy who laid the eggs. She was only going to help them hatch.”

“So did they?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what they did. The mommy duck laid two beautiful eggs, and when they were all shiny and warm in the nest, the sister duck waddled over and sat on them. The mommy duck brought her sister food, and took care of her while she sat and sat. And while she sat, they talked about the things ducks talk about whenever they have the time. They were surprised to find that after a while they were even better friends.”

“Like Hannah and me,” Alison said sleepily.

“That’s exactly right. Friends just like you and Hannah. Then one day there was a peeping noise, and then a cracking noise, and the sister duck moved away so she could see. And sure enough, two little ducklings were hatching from the two beautiful eggs. And before long, they were large enough and strong enough to follow their mommy into the pond and learn how to swim.”

“But what about Sister Duck?”

“Well, every day Sister Duck saw the lovely little ducklings on the pond with their mother, and she felt so good that she had helped them hatch, because if she hadn’t, they wouldn’t be alive. But you see, even though she felt very good, she knew they weren’t hers. She was only the duck who had helped them hatch. She was a surrogate duck. That’s what the word surrogate means. Somebody who takes the place of somebody else to help them.”

“I’m glad it does not mean sick,” Hannah said.

Jamie smoothed the top sheet over Hannah’s favorite red nightgown and straightened the rest of her covers. “No, nobody was sick. The sister duck only sat on the nest to help. Still, because she was their aunt, she loved the ducklings, too. And she saved fine bits of corn for them, and made sure that they stayed away from the edges of the pond where dogs might chase them. And in little ways, she helped Mommy Duck raise them.”

“But wasn’t she sad? I think she did all the work,” Hannah said.

“Well, no. You see, she only did part of the work. Laying eggs is very difficult indeed. And here’s the other part of the story that I didn’t tell you. Sister Duck already had ducklings all her own, older ducklings, and she loved them, and they still needed her. So she was busy with her own family, and all she really felt was happy that she had helped her sister achieve her heart’s desire.”

“You are too large to hatch an egg,” Hannah said. “You would crush it. So how can
you
be a surrogate?”

“People make babies in a different way than ducks. But this is important for you to understand. Your aunt Kendra can make babies, just like Mommy Duck could lay eggs. But your aunt can’t keep the baby inside her because of a problem from many years ago. So I asked her if I could carry a baby for her, the way I carried you and Alison. Only when I was pregnant with
you,
you were mine from the very beginning. This baby, or I should say these babies, because there are two—just like Mommy Duck’s two eggs—will belong to your aunt Kendra and uncle Isaac. They won’t be your brothers or sisters, even though they’re growing inside me, but they will be your cousins. And I won’t be their mother, but I will be their aunt. So I’ll love them the way an aunt loves her nieces and nephews, and you’ll love them like cousins, but not quite the same way you love Alison.”

Hannah was silent for a moment, her mind clearly whirling with this news. “How did the babies get there?”

It was an age-old question. This time, surrogacy actually saved the day, making the explanation simpler and to the point. “The doctors at the clinic helped your aunt and uncle make them, then they put them inside me,” Jamie said. “And that’s why we were there today, to make sure they were all right. And they are.”

“You’re going to have babies?” Alison asked, still a bit behind.

“Yes, sweetie. But they’ll be Aunt Kendra’s.”

“Will you get fat?”

“I’m afraid I’ll get very, very fat.”

“Do we have to give them both to Aunt Kendra?” Hannah asked. “We might want to keep one and give her one. We could share.”

“No, I have two wonderful little girls, and that’s all I need. And remember, they aren’t really mine to keep. I’m just Sister Duck, sitting on the nest.”

“Will dogs try to chase them?” Alison asked.