The MooreBabies
1476 Words
HOUSE OF MOORE
Chantelle’s nerves danced like a swarm of butterflies as she stepped out of the elevator. After a brief introduction, Linda gestured towards another elevator. The door opened, revealing the office on the top floor. It was a sight to hold. Bryson stood up when Chantelle stepped in. He was dressed in an ash-neat suit with the same unreadable expression.
“You came, Miss Diaz,” he said, motioning her to a seat facing him directly.
Chantelle locked her sweaty palms as she sat across him. “I have thought it through; I’m ready to do this.”
Bryson's gaze lingered on her expression for a moment, and nervousness was written all over. He reached into the drawer and gave her a thick black folder. “This is the contract. You can have your lawyer—”
“No need.” she cut in. Chantelle flipped through the pages, and her eyes scanned the terms and conditions.
SURROGACY BENEFITS: $50,000 signing bonus upon agreement. A luxurious apartment of your choice, fully funded. $10,000 monthly clothing allowance. $5000 monthly prenatal allowance. A brand new car for ease of movement. $50,000 upon entering the third trimester, contingent on the baby’s health. $15,000 bonus in the sixth month of pregnancy. $100,000 after delivery of the baby. $20,000 push gifts. A personal in-house maid and a driver.
DONTS: No s****l or intimate relationship. No meeting outside a scheduled medical check-up. No emotional or cordial engagement. No connection with the child after birth. Strictly business.
“This is a lot. The pay is more than what we discussed.” Chantelle said in a quiet tone.
“This is an agreement. You carry the child; I pay you. And that's it.”
“I get it. I accept it. But I have my conditions, too.” Chantelle said, glancing up at him.
Bryson leaned back. “Let’s hear it.”
“I will need to keep running my business. I run my baking business online and from home. I also manage deliveries myself. I can't put my business on hold.”
“That's not a problem as long as it doesn't affect the baby’s health. I don't care about what you do.”
Chantelle nodded. “About the car, I don't need one. I can't manage public transportation.”
“No. I can't have the mother of my child running around the city with swollen body parts, squeezing into taxis, or standing in the sun waiting for the bus. The driver can help out with deliveries.”
“But—”
“You will take the car. It's non-negotiable. I expect you to take care of yourself and the baby, and I will do everything I can to ensure you are comfortable.”
“Alright. I will take the car,” she mumbled.
“The contracts start tomorrow. Could you leave your details with my assistant? The apartment should be ready for you to move in by the weekend. You will get the signing bonus today.”
“What about the procedure?” she asked, signing the contract.
“Next week, I've already spoken with my doctors. Everything is ready.”
Chantelle met his gaze. “Alright.” she stood up to leave.
“Please remember this is business. I'm not looking for friendship. And don't expect anything more.”
“I wasn't expecting anything. I want to do this and get back to my life.”
“It's a good thing we understand each other,” Bryson said as she turned to peace.
Chantelle's heart was beating fast with the weight of the papers she just signed. Everything about her life was going to change.
*****************
CHANTELLE’S HOUSE
It has been three months since the surrogacy procedure was a success—three months since she left her cramped studio apartment and stepped into a luxurious world. Chantelle stood at the center of the living room, a glass of water in hand, admiring the space. The apartment didn't feel real. The place she loved the most was the kitchen. It looked like the ones on cooking shows, precisely what she had dreamed of for her business. Her old apartment could fit into the kitchen.
The signing bonus hit her account two hours after she signed the contract. She and Janice cried for long minutes. She repaid two of her father’s significant debts, paid for her baking tools, settled rent, and informed the landlord that she was moving. For once in many years, Chantelle had money in her account.
Everything about her life has been going well except for one thing—Bryson. He has been cold and emotionally distant. He never called, texted, or checked in outside of scheduled appointments at the hospital. Even if they were at the clinic, he never asked how she felt. He only asked the doctor about the child, not the mother.
Chantelle placed her hand on her belly. She still wasn't sure how she was feeling. The whole thing was terrifying and thrilling to her. The doorbell chimed, and the door opened. Chantelle didn't have to check, knowing few people knew the password. The hurricane in human form walked in.
“Hello, sexy preggie!” Khloe announced, dropping the dozens of shopping bags on the floor. “Some gifts for you and the little one.”
“We have so much already. I haven't even used most of the stuff you brought in the last time. Thank you, Khloe.”
“Don’t thank me. I'm just trying to make up for my brother’s absence.”
“It's part of the agreement.” Chantelle forced a smile.
Their friendship had developed faster and more unexpectedly. Khloe showed up one morning without warning, and since then, she has been everywhere, checking in, texting, and showing up.
“Today is scan day. That's why I'm here to cheer you on! How do you feel?”
“Nervous,” Chantelle admitted.
“Everything will be fine.” Khloe smiled genuinely.
*************
QUEENS CARE HOSPITAL
When they got to the hospital, Bryson was already waiting with Doctor Mary, the OB-GYN. Bryson has never been late for medical checkups. As usual, he didn't smile or look her way. She watched as Khloe teased her brother for looking like he would pass out soon.
Khloe and Dr. Mary helped Chantelle to the examination table. Dr. Mary applied gel to her belly while Khloe reached out to hold her hand.
“Hold on a second…” Dr Mary leaned closer to the screen where the image came, blurry at first, then tiny movements.
“Is everything okay?”
“Is something wrong?”
Khloe and Chantelle asked respectively, worry was evidence in their tome.
“Nothing is wrong.” Dr Mary smiled at them. “It's just surprising that—” she paused. This time, Bryson moved closer to look at the screen. “You are not carrying one child or even two. You're carrying three.”
Everywhere fell silent. Chantelle’s heartbeat froze. Khloe screamed.
“Triplets? Are you sure?” Khloe asked. Dr Mary pointed at the three distinct sacs. “Three babies.”
Chantelle didn't look; she just stared at the white walls above. But she could feel Bryson's eyes on her. A tear slipped down her cheeks, but she wiped it off quickly. Three babies?
“Are they healthy?” Bryson asked.
“They are developing well. We need to monitor her closely. Triplet pregnancies can be a high risk.”
Khloe looked at Bryson. “Mom and Dad would be so happy to hear this news!”
Bryson didn't say anything. He just stared at the pulsing heartbeats.
“Can we get the full scan results?” Khloe asked.
“Of course.”
“Please send it to my office,” Bryson stated, turning to Chantelle. “We need to make a new arrangement.”
“What arrangement?”
“You'll receive an additional bonus, two hundred thousand dollars for each child. That's six hundred thousand.”
Chantelle gasped. She couldn't speak. “Bryson, what are you doing?” Khloe rolled her eyes. “Now is not the time.”
Chantelle stared at him, unsure of what to do or say. “I’ll have my assistant bring over the revised contract.” He turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Chantelle closed her eyes. “Three babes. I am yet to wrap my head around one. Now…three—”
Khloe held her hand. “You're not alone. I will be here. Bryson was shocked but didn't know how to show it.”
Chantelle touched her belly. Three lives were growing in her, and three heartbeats were counting on her to bring them to the world. If Chantelle hadn't been sure about how she felt before, now she was. A sense of protectiveness washed over her thoroughly.
- Writer
