“I don’t know if I feel any better.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not really supposed to. You can do all the research you can, you can ask my wife questions about the state of her vagina after childbirth—”
“I regret that so much right now, you don’t even know. Did she have to pull up pictures to show what can happen? I mean, my god. How do they do that? I stub my toe and I think the world is ending.”
“—but the only way you’ll actually be ready is when you hold the baby in your arms for the first time. You’ll wing a lot of it. Trust me on that. Because nothing anyone can tell you can actually prepare you. Oh sure. You’ll think you are, and maybe you’ll know more than we did, but all of that just flies right out the window that first moment. You’ll make mistakes, Bear. You and Otter both. And there will be days when you’ll want to pull the covers over your head and cry a little. But it’s worth it. In the end. You can trust me on that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Dude, it’s fucking amazing.”
“I like her,” I said quietly, as if speaking it any louder would make it untrue.
“This Megan chick?”
I nodded. “We’re gonna give ourselves time to think on it. Maybe meet with some other surrogates just to be sure, but… I don’t know. I thought we clicked, a little. When we met. She’s a little ditzy, but she’s… cool. And that’s such an understatement to describe a person who could carry our kid, but—it’s just all I can think of. She’s cool.”
“That’s good, man. You get good vibes from her and all that. The only thing I think you’re doing wrong is not telling Tyson. I get why you’re doing it, but I don’t want that to come and bite you in the ass.”
I heard Anna laugh in the living room with Otter’s warm voice running as an undercurrent. I took the towel from Creed to dry my hands. “I know, but it is him we’re thinking about. He’s says he’s better with the idea, but you saw his reaction when we first brought it up. He wasn’t… thrilled.”
“You know I love him, right? Like, behind JJ, he’s the best in the world?”
“I know.”
“Good,” Creed said. “So remember that when I say he’s a fucking shit.”
“Hey!”
“He is. Or he was. That was a dick move, what he pulled at that first dinner back. I get why, I really do. For a long time, it’s been just him. You always put him above everything else. Then Otter came along and did the same. But Bear, he’s doing what he needs to do to right himself, and you gotta do the same for yourself. You have earned this, okay? Both you and Otter have. And if he’s going to be a dick about this, then fuck him. After everything you’ve done for him, he should be willing to give you this.”
“He apologized,” I said. “I think he’s okay with it now.”
“But you’re not telling him,” Creed pointed out.
“Not just him. Everyone. Dom. Your mom and dad. Anna’s parents. They all know we’re trying, but we just… in a way, you’re right. This is our thing. And I want to keep it that way. For now.”
He watched me for a moment. Then, “You don’t think this will work, do you.”
I took a step back. “What? I—I don’t—”
He shook his head. “Dude. You don’t think this will work.”
And maybe that was right. Or rather, maybe that was almost right. I knew what we were trying to do, but everything I’d gotten in my life, everything I’d loved had come with a price. A trade-off. There was always something bad to offset the good. And I was getting better at it—focusing on the positive—but I’d been conditioned all my life to expect the worst. Mom leaving. Otter leaving. Mrs. Paquinn dying. Otter’s accident. Ty’s mental state. His addiction.
And what’s the one constant here? it whispered. Who is the common denominator in all of this? Oh, that’s right. It’s you, Bear. You’re the one connected to all of this. Makes you think, doesn’t it? Makes you really think.
“It’s not—”
“Cut the shit, Papa Bear,” Creed said, a scowl on his face. “I’ve known you for far too long to let you try and talk in circles around me. What the hell?”
I glanced toward the living room to make sure we weren’t being overheard. Anna and Otter were seated close to each other on the couch, speaking quietly. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but neither of them was looking at us.
To be safe, though, I lowered my voice. “It’s not that I don’t think that, it’s just… it’s, okay. It’s expensive, right? And there are no guarantees. If we don’t get this, if it doesn’t work, we’re out that money. Most of which, by the way, is coming from Otter.”
Creed snorted. “Yeah, because what’s his isn’t yours at all. Dude, you’re married. Knock it off.”
I glared at him. “I know that, but I’m a teacher. You can’t ignore the fact that my salary doesn’t exactly cover the seventy fucking thousand dollars this is going to cost us. And if it doesn’t work, that’s just… gone.”