“Okay,” Creed said. “Fair. But what if it does work?”
I could find nothing to say to that.
Creed sighed. “Look, Papa Bear. I know you’ve been dealt a crappy hand, okay? Life sucks and then you die. But Jesus, you are allowed to have hope for something. Dude, enough with this sad-sack martyr routine. The chances are greater of this working than not. You guys are going the IVF route, right? Gestational surrogacy?”
I shook my head. “We were looking at that, but then we met her. She just… fits. You know? Think we’re going to go the traditional surrogacy route instead if we choose her.”
He stared at me. “She fits? With us? Oh my god. I don’t know if that’s amazing or terrifying.”
“Right? Jury’s still out.”
“That’s—okay. Whatever. Yes, it’s expensive as fuck, and yes, there’s always a chance it doesn’t work. But you know what happens then? You get upset about it for a little bit, but then you pick yourself up and start again. There are always options, okay? Always. We’ll figure it out, one way or another. And hey, Anna said you could rent her womb if necessary.”
“She did not.”
He shrugged. “Well, maybe not in so many words, but we both know she’d do it. And if not even then, there’s always adoption. Like, Russian kids or something.”
“He wants me to do it,” I admitted.
Creed’s eyes widened a little at that. “To be the donor? Dude, that’s—”
“I told Otter he was out of his mind, especially given the crazy that’s apparently genetic in our family. But he said that there’s already JJ, and h
e wants it to come from me. So it’d be a part of me.”
“Can’t they mix both of you?”
“Some places do that, but the clinic we’re using doesn’t. It’s more expensive that way too.”
“Dude,” Creed breathed. “That’s awesome.”
“You don’t think it’s a bad idea?”
“Fuck no. It’s the best idea ever. Holy shit, Bear, a little fucking you? That’s….” He blinked. “Okay, I can see why you’re scared now.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed at that, loud and long. “You dick.”
He hugged me then. It was strong and familiar, and we didn’t say much about the way we both sniffled a little bit. “You’ve got this, Bear,” he whispered in my ear. “Trust me, okay? You’ve got this. I promise you. And I’ll be there when there is shit and vomit everywhere to remind you it’s worth it. It’s so fucking worth it.”
“Are they crying?” Anna asked, sounding bewildered.
Creed and I both jumped apart, coughing in a manly way and discreetly wiping our eyes.
Anna and Otter were standing in the entrance to the kitchen, staring at us.
“We’re not crying,” Creed said. “We were having bro-time, which you just interrupted. That was rude of you, and I will accept your apology when you’re ready to give it.”
“We’re in love with a pair of idiots,” Anna told Otter.
But Otter was smiling at me, that crooked smile that he wore so well. “Yeah,” he said softly. “We are, aren’t we?”
THAT NOVEMBER we watched on the computer screen as Dominic walked into Ty’s room in New Hampshire. Ty told him he’d started to figure things out and he thought he could stand on his own now.
It was all very romantic, or so I was told.
I was too busy trying to think of a way to effectively intimidate Dom, even though he was twice my size.
THREE DAYS later, we picked Megan Ridley to be our surrogate.