Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Mother and son engaged in a sort of standoff, and this right here was the tension I’d been expecting all along. I scanned their faces for clues and noticed how very alike they were—same hair, same color eyes, same straight spine and stiff upper lip.
“You’re here,” she said, breaking the silence.
“I told you I’d come,” he replied in a cooly cordial tone. “Mom, this is Viggo. He’s my…friend.”
She lifted a brow, her sharp gaze raking me from head to toe. “Thank you for coming, Viggo. I’m Margaret. Dexter’s mother.”
“A pleasure to meet—”
“Where are you staying?” She pivoted to Dex. “I just heard your house was leased for the summer. Your agent’s wife works for me, you know.”
“Uh…right. We rented a place nearby.”
“Rented? Oh, Dex. Get your bags and take your room. You’ll both be more comfortable. Did you see Lance and Georgia?” Margaret’s delivery was rushed, as if she’d remembered she was on a timer and was leery of using the precious resource in one go.
“Yes. Lance and Georgia are Gilbert’s kids,” he added for my benefit.
Margaret tilted her chin and studied him. “And how are you feeling, dear?”
He sighed. “I’m fine, Mom.”
“No headaches, no—”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. Don’t be cross, but Jennifer is expected after all. I wasn’t positive that you’d come, and we have work to attend to in the morning. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
“No, I—”
“I didn’t think so.” She touched Dexter’s elbow lightly, the first instance of physical contact between mother and son. “You’ll excuse me, please.”
“Wait. I need to talk to you. Can I have five minutes?”
Another lift of perfectly arched brows. “I have a houseful of guests, dear. Later will have to do. Welcome, Viggo. Dexter will show you around and—”
“I’m having a baby,” he blurted. “My surrogate is four months along. I’m going to be a dad, and I thought you’d want to know.”
He slugged his champagne in one gulp and plucked mine from my fingers, too.
There was a party happening in our periphery and gulls swooping overhead called out in a plaintive “Ha-ha-ha,” so though it wasn’t silent, something icy and foreboding sliced through the air, drowning out sound.
“A baby?” She zeroed in on me. “Are you getting married? Are you—”
“No,” he intercepted. “We’re friends. Viggo is a close friend of my surrogate’s, too. Her name is Freya.”
Margaret opened and closed her mouth. “I hope this is a joke.”
I frowned, stepping in front of Dexter as if to protect him. “This is no joke. Your son is happy, and that’s what matters most…I’m sure you agree.”
She shot daggers at me, nostrils flaring, though her voice was steady and even. “I’m sure that if you knew my son better, you’d disagree.”
“Mom…”
“He doesn’t know, does he? Does your surrogate know? Does the family planning agency know? Or did you tell them you had a partner? That’s the only way this is acceptable. You cannot do this alone. Not to yourself, not to a child. It’s irresponsible.”
“Irresponsible?” Dexter’s jaw dropped. “I told you I was looking into surrogacy a long time ago. You don’t have to be happy for me, but why are you so surprised?”
“I didn’t think you’d do it,” she hissed. “After everything you’ve been through and what you put your wife through, I’m shocked. Truly. And you have some nerve announcing this now…at Gilbert’s party. It’s unbelievably selfish.”
Dexter pursed his lips. “Got it. I’m leaving.”
He strode away, leaving me alone with his mother. Her pinched expression morphed into concern, pain, and finally, chilly resolution. No doubt she made a cunning adversary in the boardroom, but it didn’t translate well in the current situation.
“I apologize for the unpleasantries.” Margaret stared after Dexter. “I must get back to my—”
“Unacceptable.” I rounded on her angrily. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I will tell you this—Dexter is a good man, and he’ll be a great dad. With or without your support.”
I fixed her with my meanest glower, hoping to convey my utmost disdain before trudging to the house and through the press of new arrivals.
The valets were doing a brisk business in the wide driveway, racing to serve the row of cars waiting patiently for attention. It seemed we’d been early after all.
The newcomers were young, some with children and teens. Some who looked familiar, like politicians or TV personalities you thought you knew, but didn’t. I craned my neck and spotted our rental at the very end of the driveway.
Dexter was behind the wheel.
I opened the door and unlatched his seat belt. “I’ll drive.”
We didn’t speak on the way to the cabin. I was terrible at giving comfort, and I had no idea what I was up against.
But I knew better than most that family dysfunction came in all shapes and sizes.
Dex tapped the window. “Pull over. Please.”
I obeyed, parking on the side of the road, shaded by sugar maple trees. He jumped out and retched, his shoulders trembling. I froze, unsure what to do. I got out of the car and hurried to his side.