Vada Faith by Barbara A. Whittington Page A

“We’ve talked to dozens of couples who’ve done it. People who have been through this several times. They say to look at this as our baby from the start. It won’t be your wife’s baby at all. Not one bit. We’ll pay her to carry it for us. You know, watch over it.
    Just as she would if she were baby sitting a baby we’d had and brought to her to keep. No more than that. You can understand that, can’t you, dear?”
    “I know the difference between a baby you bring to my wife and one she has inside her. This baby will be under Vada Faith’s breast as our own babies were.” His face was red now. “There’s a big difference here whether you want to admit it or not.”
    I looked at my husband in earnest. “I do know what I’m doing. I want to be their surrogate mother. I want to help them have a baby.”
    He clasped his hands in front of him on the table. In his new suit, he reminded me of the handsome auto salesman on television. He looked all grown-up and serious for a change. He cleared his throat and swallowed slowly a couple of times making his adams apple jump up and down nervously. “I don’t like it. However, I will stand by you.” He looked at me and let out a resigned sigh. “If this is what you want. I’d rather have you do this than go traipsing off to Africa or somewhere far off to help those poor starving children. If you want to do something for someone this bad then it might as well be this. At least I can watch out for you here. I couldn’t in a third world country.”
    “Africa?” Dottie’s eyebrows shot up in puzzlement. “A third world country?”
    The older man reached over and shook John Wasper’s unwilling hand. “You will not be sorry, sir.” Then he reached over and patted my hand. He pulled it away quickly when my husband shot him a mean look. John Wasper was already sorry. I could tell that. It didn’t matter. This thing was practically a done deal. I smiled at Dottie. I smiled at each of them.
    All that was left was me getting pregnant and telling my mother and John Wasper’s family. Oh, and a zillion other people.

Chapter Seven
    “You’re going where?” Mama called. “To do what?” Today she was baby-sitting for the girls and I was trying to tell her in tiny stages about the surrogacy.
    “I’m looking into something,” I said, hurrying down the sidewalk toward my car in the driveway. “A job. Sort of.”
    I’d hoped to downplay the whole thing. With my family that was impossible. “Surrogacy,” I said in a low voice, impossible for her to hear.
    “What?” She called. “What did you say? Surely you didn’t say what I think you said? Come back here.”
    My mother acted as if everything she’d ever done in her life had been proper and above reproach.
    “I’ll explain later,” I called, waving. “I’m in a hurry.”
    “Hey, come back here!” By this time, she was hanging out the front door in her robe and I was getting into my car.
    Both girls were waving at me from the bay window.
    I could see they were standing on mama’s white sofa with their tennis shoes. She must have seen it too because she disappeared inside, letting the screen door close with a bang. The girls quickly vanished from the window as I pulled out of her driveway.
    It was Monday and I had a doctor’s appointment. I’d left Joy Ruth at the shop to work on the books by herself. She was single and had nothing else in her life. Besides I figured it wouldn’t hurt her. She was so narrow-minded about my impending surrogacy, I wanted a break from discussing it with her. I was glad she had begged to pick up the girls later in the day. That meant I could avoid talking to mama again.
    My appointment with Dr. Fine went quickly. He was pleased with my recuperation. It had been several weeks now and I was feeling great.
    Back in his office, seated across from him, I leaned back and tried to relax.
    “Well, Vada Faith,” he said, smiling, “are you ready for the