Chapter Seventeen
Ethan
Sunlight was beaming in through the open curtains in my room. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and rolled over, blurrily trying to find my phone on the table beside my bed. I fumbled around for a minute until I found it and then peered at the bright screen. I had three missed calls and a voicemail from my mother. I lay back against the pillow and called my voice mail service to listen to her message.
I could tell right away that she was crying.
“Ethan, Heather called me last night. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding something so important from me and your father. You’re having a baby! And with Devon? Please, honey, please call me. I want to talk to you about all this. Heather is upset. She’s not ready to hear it. But your father and I are. We want to be a part of this, sweetheart. Please call me back. I love you.”
I stared at my ceiling for a solid five minutes before I managed to work up enough nerve to call her back. She answered halfway through the first ring, and I imagined she had been sitting on the sofa with a book in hand anxiously waiting for me to call.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said tentatively. “Did you get my message?”
“Oh, yeah, I got it,” I said, resting my forearm across my forehead. “I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did. I doubt it was a pleasant conversation with Heather.”
“No need to talk about that right now. She will come around, I’m sure. It’s just that Devon is her best friend, and you know how girls can be.”
“I guess,” I said, wondering if Heather hadn’t mentioned the surrogacy part of the story. Did my parents think Devon and I were together?
“Would you and Devon like to come for dinner tonight?” my mother asked. “I could make lasagna. That was my favorite meal when I was pregnant. And we can have tea and catch up, and it would be lovely, don’t you think?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose but found myself nodding. “Yeah, Mom, dinner would be nice. Seven o’clock?”
“Yes, yes, seven is perfect. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I said, smiling to myself as I hung up the phone. So she didn’t know about the surrogacy program. That was ideal. She wouldn’t understand and neither would my father. It was better for everyone if they thought Devon and I had gone into this whole thing while in a relationship. It was a little white lie that wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I was sure Devon would go along with it.
I rolled out of bed, showered, and then waited for Devon to wake up to ask her to join my family and me for dinner. I was surprised to discover I was a little nervous to ask her.
Eddison parked the limo in my parent’s cobblestone driveway. It was dark out already, and warm light was glowing from inside all the windows of the sprawling modern rancher. I stepped out of the car and took Devon’s hand. She joined me outside and wrapped her red coat tighter around herself.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” she muttered, looking up at the front door. “It’s exactly as I remember it.”
“My mom doesn’t like change,” I told her, “and neither does my dad. They’ll live here forever, I’m sure. No stairs. Perfect place for old people.”
“Your parents aren’t old,” Devon giggled.
I shrugged. “Older.”
Devon rolled her eyes, and we made our way up to the door. “So,” she said, “just to recap. We’re dating and have been for ten months. The baby was unexpected, but we’re thrilled about it? And we’ll deal with the rest of it later?”
“Yes,” I nodded as we arrived at the door. “We’ll have a fake amicable break up a few months after he’s born.”
Devon nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this then.”
I rapped my knuckles on the door, and not half a minute later, my mom opened it up and greeted us with a bright smile and outstretched arms. She hugged us both and then held Devon at arm’s length to inspect her.
“You look more beautiful than ever, dear,” my mom said to Devon as she cupped her cheeks in her hands. “You’re glowing. Ethan, isn’t she glowing?”
I chuckled as I shrugged out of my jacket and then helped Devon with hers. “Yes, she has been for a couple months now.”
Devon shot me a look that I couldn’t read, but I saw the sparkle in her eye and the curve in her lips. She was definitely radiant tonight.
“Thank you for having us over,” Devon said.
“I’m so happy to have you. Come, Gavin is in the kitchen opening the wine. Would you like a glass, Devon? I know one glass isn’t frowned upon, but if you’d prefer, we have nonalcoholic options. Iced tea, tonic water, soda?”
“I would actually love a glass of water,” Devon said as we rounded the corner to the kitchen.
My father, Gavin, was pouring wine into three glasses as if he had expected Devon to decline the drink. He had a face full of white whiskers, something I wasn’t used to seeing. He greeted us with a warm smile and handed me my glass of wine.
“Congratulations, son,” he said, patting me on the back. “When your mother told me about you two, I nearly started crying. Best news we’ve had in some time.”
A little flame of guilt lit in my belly. To distract myself, I raised my glass and toasted the new baby. My mother handed Devon a glass of water, and we all clinked our glasses together.
Within thirty minutes, we were all sitting around my mother’s immaculately set dining table. Candles of varying heights littered the table runner and hosted flickering flames. The plates, crisp white and trimmed with silver edges, were steaming with cheesy lasagna that was making my mouth water.
We dug in, and I watched Devon close her eyes across the table from me at the first bite. Her lashes were long and cast shadows over her high cheekbones in the amber glow from the candles. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips were plump and wet with gloss. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bouncy ponytail that had given me several hard-ons in the limo ride over. I couldn’t stop thinking of pulling it while I fucked her. She caught my eye, gave me a smile that stopped my heart, and then looked at my mother.
“This is delicious,” Devon said. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re so welcome, dear,” my mother said. “You’re eating for two now. There’s more in the pan in the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself. You get first dibs.”
Devon smiled before turning to my father. “So, Mr. Garrison, what’s new? I haven’t seen you in ages. Tell me everything.”
My father beamed like a boy on Christmas morning and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Well, for starters, we’re family now. Call me Gavin.”
Devon flushed, looked at her plate, and then smiled up at me. “All right.”
My father then proceeded to launch into dozens of stories of his adventures over the last decade. He and my mother were world travelers, so most of his stories consisted of things they had done or seen in foreign cities like exploring the catacombs and tombs and pyramids in Egypt or wandering through ancient ruins in Pompeii. I was overjoyed by their exuberance and caught myself getting a little too excited in general.
This was all temporary.
In four more months, Devon would give birth to a little boy—my little boy. Then she and I would part ways as cited by our agreement with One Billion Fantasies. She would proceed with her studies at NYU, and I would continue running my company and raising my child.
Alone.
This feeling of togetherness that I had would not be the same this time next year. I would be sitting here with my son beside me, probably spitting up on a bib my mother bought for him, and Devon would be somewhere else. Somewhere new with someone who wasn’t me.
The rest of the evening went well. Devon was a giggling, bubbling, warm ray of sunshine throughout the night, and her joy spilled over into my mother and father. I liked seeing them all that way. It had been a long time, and I knew my parents had been hoping to be grandparents sooner rather than later. Heather had taken most of the heat from them. They probably assumed I was too busy to have kids and too tied up in my one-night stands to want them.
We waved goodbye after getting in the limo, and once we had pulled out onto the street, Devon leaned back in her seat and smiled at me. “That was a lot of fun. I’ve missed your parents. They’re such wonderful people.”
“They clearly missed you too,” I said as she kicked off her shoes and put her feet on my lap. I rested my hands on her ankles and then absently began giving her a foot massage. “They will probably want us to do this more often.”
“I’m okay with that,” Devon said, rubbing her belly. “Your mom is an excellent chef. That lasagna was out of this world.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “Sorry. Sleepy.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, kneading the bottom of her foot with my thumbs. “It’s a half-hour drive home. Close your eyes.”
She was asleep within minutes, but I still continued massaging her feet. I’d been paying attention to how she rubbed them when she was curled up on the sofa. She was starting to get a bit sore, which the doctor told us would happen, and I wanted things to be as easy for her as possible.
When we arrived back at my house, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her into the building. We rode the elevator with her draped in my arms. She smelled like honey and vanilla. I rested my cheek on her head, her hair tickling my nose, until the doors opened with a small chime. I stepped out, shouldered my way into my suite, and eased the door quietly closed behind me with my boot.
Before I realized it, I was laying Devon down on my bed rather than her own. I eased her arms out of her coat and undid the zipper on the side of her dress. I helped her out of that too. She moaned, still half asleep, and rolled out of it. I covered her up with my blanket and went about my routine of brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed.
When I joined her beneath the covers, I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the small swell of her growing belly beneath my palms. I nuzzled my chin in the groove between her shoulder and neck, breathed in the smell of her, and closed my eyes.
This was what bliss felt like.