Just Like Mother

Chapter 1-2

I nodded, and impulsively curled up onto my side on the rug, Prosecco abandoned. I rested my head in her lap, the way I’d done when we were little, and she absently ran her fingertips through my hair. I felt drunk on the intimacy of it, and behind my overwhelming sense of happiness lay a tiny, niggling worry that I wouldn’t get to experience it again, or at least not soon enough. I wanted this time with my cousin to be my daily reality, not merely an escape from my bleak everyday life.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Andrea asked, giving my scalp a light scratch. She leaned against the base of the sofa and lifted my head in her palms just briefly, in order to uncross her legs.

‘Just that tomorrow came way too soon,’ I told her. ‘I’m not ready to head back to the city yet.’

‘I hope that means you had a good time,’ Andrea said. ‘I’m rooting for us, you know. It isn’t every day you get a second chance.’

I sat back up, curling my legs underneath me. ‘I had an amazing time,’ I confessed. ‘And I feel the exact same way. It’s fate. It’s honestly hard to believe we were ever apart.’ I swallowed, feeling myself getting emotional. ‘Really, Andrea. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had. The cake was such a sweet gesture.’

‘Well, but with the weather… you were probably a little bored.’ She picked at her fingernails, sneaking glances at me. She looked vulnerable – it was the first time since we’d reconnected that I’d seen her looking truly defenseless.

‘I wasn’t,’ I insisted. ‘I was so happy just being here. Catching up with you.’ My cheeks flamed. I wasn’t used to speaking so candidly about how I was feeling. ‘And enjoying your gorgeous house,’ I added, redirecting. ‘I am not eager to sleep in my studio tomorrow night.’

‘You need more than a studio at your age,’ Andrea mentioned, looking concerned. ‘No offense. Your job must pay you pennies for the amount of work you do. I’m sorry. That probably sounds so rude. I only want you to be comfortable.’

‘Believe me, I know it.’ I shrugged. ‘I enjoy my work. It’s interesting and challenging. But I am tired of barely scraping by,’ I admitted.

‘What if I told you I could possibly fix that?’ Andrea asked.

I laughed outright. ‘How? You’re going to have a word with my supervisor? Offer me a job at a rival publishing house?’ Her expression was serious. ‘Oh god. Andrea, are you offering me a job at NewLife? That’s incredibly generous, but –’

‘No, no.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Not NewLife. It’s just… I didn’t tell you everything about Olivia’s death.’

I nodded, unsure of what she was getting at, or what it had to do with me.

‘Well…’ Andrea paused, then gnawed again at her bottom lip. ‘It’s really hard for me to talk about, but it’s important that I share this with you.’

I reached for her hand. ‘What is it? Tell me.’

‘I can’t have another baby,’ Andrea explained, choking up a little. ‘The chances of what happened with Olivia happening again are too high. The doctors told me I can’t try again without risking my own life. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’ve built my career around motherhood, and I can’t be a mother.’ She paused here, blotting her eyes with a tissue.

‘Oh, Andrea,’ I said, drawing her close. ‘I wish there were something I could do.’

‘Well, actually,’ she said carefully, ‘there is.’ There was a long silence, and I had the sense that there was something crucial I hadn’t yet grasped.

‘I know you don’t want to have a baby of your own, Mae, and I respect that,’ Andrea went on. ‘But what if you gave one of your eggs to us? To me and Rob?’

I was stunned. I opened my mouth to interject, but she plowed over me.

‘It would help us tremendously, and it would allow us to have a baby with our DNA, and you and I look so much alike. It’s kind of perfect. The way you just appeared in my life out of nowhere – poof – made me think there was a reason for it. We would pay you handsomely. Think about it: I get to have a child and you get financial security. I’m not asking you to be a surrogate,’ she clarified. ‘We could hire someone else to be the surrogate.’

The weight of what she was asking had begun to sink in. I pulled back, scooting a few inches away from her without thinking about it. When I didn’t respond immediately, she rushed to continue. ‘You could live your life however you want. Take the money and quit your job, keep working… anything.’

‘Andrea.’ My voice was flat, flatter than I’d intended. What she was asking wasn’t possible. I knew it in my heart, but it still broke me to disappoint her. ‘I can’t do that. I’m so sorry.’

She recoiled as if she’d been slapped. ‘You didn’t even let me finish. We’d pay you half a million dollars for one extraction,’ she said, as if I hadn’t given her my answer. ‘You could have your own apartment, a nice one, no more crashing in studios or in some bartender’s bed.’ I winced at this, as a wave of nausea rolled through me.

‘Andrea, I wish I could,’ I told her. I did, so fervently. ‘But I just can’t put myself through that.’

‘Please, Maeve,’ she whispered, her eyes welling. ‘It could be so easy. For all of us. All of our problems solved.’

‘Can’t you get another donor?’ I asked desperately, already knowing her answer.

Andrea’s eyes brimmed. ‘We want our child to look like Olivia,’ she told me. ‘Like us. Our blood.’

I hesitated. I wanted to say yes. More than anything, I wanted to please my cousin. But I couldn’t reproduce, not even by extension, not even for her.

‘I’m sorry,’ I told her again. I couldn’t look at her. ‘I’ve known my entire life I don’t want to bring children into the world. Egg retrieval is no small thing; it’s hard. I know someone at work who froze hers. And even with you as the mother, it would be too hard for me to be around it. To watch you raise it. Besides,’ I pointed out, ‘I may well have whatever you have, that caused Olivia’s death.’

‘It isn’t genetic,’ Andrea said coldly. ‘I already told you that. Don’t you think you owe me?’ she pleaded. ‘Even a little?’

‘What?’ I straightened. I always knew she blamed me for that night – for leaving her. How could she not? This was merely the first time she’d said it.

‘Because of you, I never had a family. I was in foster care for years. Bad foster care, sometimes. One man beat me.’ Andrea’s laugh was choked with tears. ‘All I want is your eggs. Even one, for god’s sake. Whatever one retrieval can yield. It’s so simple, Maeve. You aren’t even using yours; it doesn’t matter to you. You aren’t –’

‘Andrea,’ I interrupted, my voice gentle, yet firm as I could manage. ‘I am so, so sorry. I would give you anything else you asked me for. I swear. Not this.’ Anything at all except this.

‘What if you didn’t have to see the child?’ Andrea’s voice was desperate. ‘You can give me your eggs and I’ll pay you and disappear. I would pay a million dollars, Mae. All your problems would be solved. You just give us whatever you get from one round, we vanish from your life. Done. You’d never have to see us again.’

‘Done?’ I whispered. ‘That’s it? You take my eggs and our relationship is over?’

‘Of course I don’t want it that way,’ she protested. ‘What I want is that we raise the baby together.’ She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. ‘But if that’s not what you want, we can make it easier for you, make sure you don’t have to be around the child. That’s all I mean. I mean we’d do what makes you comfortable.’

‘I can’t believe you have a million dollars to give away,’ I said, more to myself than to her. I stared into the distance for a moment. Pressure was building in my chest, and my own eyes were wet. I could hardly see straight. ‘What I’m hearing is that my fertility is transactional to you,’ I told her, choking out the words.

I stood, my resolve returned. I’d spent my adulthood working through my past, setting boundaries, establishing normalcy. What Andrea was suggesting would damage me. I knew it with gut-level certainty, the kind that can’t be explained. Andrea knew enough about me to understand why this would be my choice. Having to justify it was deeply painful. And the realization that she could cast me aside so easily in exchange made my stomach turn.

‘You’ve always been selfish,’ she said, staring up at me with cold eyes. ‘But refusing outright? Not even taking the time to consider the offer? This is beyond.’

‘You just admitted you’re willing to discard me as long as you get what you want,’ I hissed back, fury coating my words. ‘I said no. Please respect that. There are some things you can’t throw money at.’

I stood and left the room. I went straight to bed, my hands shaking as I turned the lock to my door with definitive purpose. How quickly our evening had morphed from something magical into something sickly and laden with old tensions. I hadn’t even known we had so much animosity simmering between us. It had been laid bare, and there was no going back. I resolved to get up early and take an Uber to the bus station, where I would board the first bus back to the city.

It took hours to fall asleep. I felt sick, feverish with the intensity of the fight. I had had everything, briefly, and then I’d lost it. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was selfish. But this was one thing I couldn’t bend on, not ever.

As I slowly drifted off, I realized it had been more than two decades since my heart had last been broken, on another fateful birthday. Until now, I hadn’t thought there was anything left to break.