it for her. She immediately moved me to upstate New York, took me out of my school and transferred me mid-year and everything. The woman worked hard to put me in a preparatory school, where my whole world opened up. I was able to graduate and go to Cambridge University and eventually started my business as an entrepreneur in educational software. Mom, on the other hand, who had bouts of depression and suffered with chronic pain, refused to leave New York, which is one of the reasons why I had a jet in the first place. Besides my business dealings, I had to go back and forth to the States in order to ensure she was good. Mom was starting to forget things, and I feared it would be early Alzheimer’s or dementia. Part of me knew she wanted to escape reality, but I tried my best to make her life as easy as I could. She deserved that.
Every bloody thing I could do to make her comfortable, I did, from paying off her home, buying her a car, to getting a food service, a housekeeper, and someone to take care of her lawn needs. She was opposed to all of them, and especially the housekeeper. Who, I learned, basically sits and listens to Mom as they both clean up. Then Mom said that I couldn’t fire her because Elsbeth was her friend.
Bloody brilliant.
Logically, having a baby with a one-night stand was a bad idea. In any way, shape or form, it would be frowned upon. However, my gut was telling me that it was not. Sheryl wasn’t just anyone. She was the best friend of the wife of my best mate. The woman was accomplished and not someone trying to trap me. Fuck, she didn’t need to get pregnant by me. I’m sure she wasn’t trying to get knocked up at all. This powerhouse of a woman had more to lose than me, but since I was looking forward to the union, I wanted to lay out my three-, six-, and nine-month plan for us. Then the two-, five-, and seven-year plan.
That seemed to go out the window after her confession of the miscarriage. Then as I boarded my jet back to London, the plan began to formalize. By the time we landed, I was back to my plans, and with her consent, we would be on schedule. This was a long shot, but providing some sort of comfort to a mother who’d lost her child was something I was intimately familiar with.
Once I finished my drink and grabbed some sleep, I woke with a new vigor. Baby Planning Project II was born, and now Sheryl and I had to hash out some details.
A few days later, I called on her cellphone number. This made me chuckle, because in order to get the number many months ago, it came with a threat from Maxine that if I hurt her friend, she would hurt me. I had no doubts, but it wasn’t me hurting Sheryl that worried me. It was probably the opposite. I could get someone else to have my baby, but why?
“Hey, Unknown Caller,” she answered.
“Save my number, then,” I quipped back.
She was no longer the vulnerable woman I’d had in my arms that last time we met. No, she was back to the barbs and the façade she put on to cover that side of her.
“We’ll see,” she answered right back.
Yup, the wall was up.
“You seem to be in a mood. Maybe this is a bad time.” I put the phone on speaker as I opened my refrigerator to grab a beer. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Jacquez, you are wasting my time,” she snapped. “You text me a few days ago, say nothing else, then call later with this bullshit.”
When I was about to answer, she cut me off and continued, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Did you mean what you texted? That’s the only reason we need to talk. If you meant it.”
“I did.” I stared at the phone, waiting for her response.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why not?” I replied. “We’ve been acquainted. You’re not trying to trap me and have your own means. I want a child, and I believe you do. Began to bloody wrap my head around it, so I say let’s make it happen again, but on purpose.”
“Okay.” She said this more softly. “What were you thinking about?”
“I have a plan,” I told her. “This is why I called, to go over it with