Meant for Me | ✔️

5) Just a start

July, two years ago.

A D D I E

There was probably a butt mold from where I'd been sitting on the couch for one entire weekend. Margo took the lead on the events this time, back to normal, and I had been curled up with three books which I finished from beginning to end, getting up only to wee, eat and drink.

Like a cat.

Sunday afternoon sun was pouring in through the living room window and I closed the fourth book on chapter two when the front door opened and closed. Margo appeared in the living room a moment later, fatigue all over her made up face. She was wearing tall heels and a slim full-length play suit.

"Who plans weddings on a Sunday," she groaned, leaning on the door frame. "Sunday?! I need sleep."

"I'd get married on a Sunday."

"You would not."

I grinned and followed her through to the kitchen where she started rummaging through the cupboard for Advil. While she searched, I poured her a glass of water and sat on the lip of the bench beside a Boston fern plant that I had draping over the edge of the counter top. I plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl.

"Have you thought more about the offer that I made last weekend?"

She let out a deep breath and shook her head as she pulled her hair up into a knot. "It's a no just like it was then and will remain."

"I'm kind of offended that you don't want me to carry your child."

"Well don't be offended. I'm saying no for you. You're twenty-two. You're at an age where you should be going out and meeting people and having fun. You should not be walking around, pregnant with someone else's child."

"Margo."

"No, no," she waved a finger at me, but her brows were pinched, and I could tell that she was getting a headache at the mere thought of having an argument with me. "Don't come at me with any of your logical arguments. This is not negotiable."

"Honestly it's weird that you're not all for the idea. I mean, you'd want to trust the person carrying your child, right? Who could you trust more than me? We live together. You'd be right beside me through the entire experience which would make it all the more meaningful for you."

"I get all of that," Margo said after she'd swallowed her mouthful of water and pain relief. "But I can't do that to you, Addie. And you know the reason that I can't. It blows my mind that you'd even ask me."

"It—"

"Moving on," Margo cut me off before I could continue giving her logical arguments, no sarcasm detected, and explain further what a great idea it was. "How's next weekend's bridal shower coming along?"

As much as I wanted to keep discussing the potential of me being her surrogate, I paused because I needed to ask her this question before I forgot, and she'd opened the subject for it. "The client wants to know if she should put a tab on at the bar or hire a private room and have her friends BYO."

"What does her budget allow?"

"A private room or a very small tab."

She lowered her head in thought and tapped the bench top. "I'd do the private room and tell her girlfriends to bring their own alcohol. It ends up being the biggest expense, so it'll save her in the long run. Plus, they can order more from the bar if need be, but they can't bring their own alcohol without the private room. So that's what I'd suggest."

"Hopefully it's not too late to get the private room," I thought out loud. "It's next week."

"No, it won't be too late. It's at High Flyer's, right?"