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“What do you want me to ask? What’s your favorite color? It’s probably brown. She looks like a brown-is-my-favorite-color kind of girl. She totally lost me when she said Harry Styles had horrible fashion sense. Come on, I can’t let that woman carry our baby for nine months with deep-seated aggression like that toward Harry. And who lives in Seattle and doesn’t drink coffee? That’s like living in Nashville and hating country music.”
“Lots of people live in Nashville and don’t like country music.”
My eyes go round. “Well, that’s just blasphemous.”
Connor arches an eyebrow. “Didn’t you used to tell me you hated country music?”
I kiss Bartie on the head and put him down on the floor.
“It’s grown on me.”
Connor gets up and goes to the fridge, bringing back two flavored seltzers. “I don’t think I can survive hearing ye two bicker for the next nine months, anyway. Who’s our next interview with?”
“Penny from Van Nuys.”
“Ah, the rollerblading Colleen.” Connor shuffles the bios on the desk in front of us. “Where did ye find these applicants?”
“1-800-knock-me-up,” I deadpan. He side-eyes me as I click the mouse. “I’m kidding. You’d be surprised. There’s an entire network of surrogates on TikTok.”
“That’s seriously frightening,” he grumbles. “I can’t tell if yer joking or not.”
“I think Penny’s going to be the one. I can feel it all the way down in my bikini briefs.” I click on our Zoom link and wait for Penny to join.
“Love, I don’t want ye to get yer hopes up if she’s not. It’s a long shot findin’ someone that will be perfect for us—”
“Hiya, hiya!” Penny’s picture pops open, her red curly hair taking up most of the screen. “Sorry I’m a little late. Couldn’t get the darn computer working.”
“Ooh, love her bubbly, upbeat vibe,” I whisper to Connor, who ignores me. “Hi Penny, I’m TJ and this is my husband, Connor.”
“Sweet! Nice to meet you.”
“Penny, why done ye tell us a wee bit about yerself?”
“Ooh, love your accent. Are you British? No wait, Australian.” She laughs and I can feel Connor stiffen next to me before clearing his throat.
“Irish.”
“Cool, cool.” She fumbles with her laptop, adjusting the picture. “Something about myself…sure, yeah. I’m a thirty-six-year-old personal trainer in Van Nuys. I’ve been a surrogate four times and love the whole process.”
“What do ye love about it?” Connor asks.
“Oh my gosh, I love being pregnant. I love helping others conceive their dream baby. I know this sounds crazy, but the process of giving birth is so surreal and spiritual. It’s this weird fascination of bringing another human life into this world, you know?”
“If your friends could use one word to describe you, what would it be?” I ask.
“Oh, easy. They would say I’m a free spirit.”
“That’s two words,” Connor whispers.
“Do you have any children of your own?” I ask, nodding my head while I scribble down the wordssurreal,spiritual, andfree spirit. Amy said her friends would have called her responsible.Bor-ing. I also have noted red hair and an upbeat attitude. Connor glances down at my notebook and rolls his eyes.
“No, I’m single. But honestly, I don’t want the responsibility of children. I’m happy to carry them to term and hand them off to the parents.” She smiles. “They are all yours to stay up with all night long.”
“Ye said ye would be open to movin’ here?” Connor asks. “What about yer job?”
“Oh, I guess I should have clarified. I’m in between gigs at the moment, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect. I’m anxious to move to a new city and try something different. Born and raised here, but if I’m being honest, it’s gotten a little stale. I’m ready for adventure!”
“Yes, Penny, I love it!” I cry out, punching the air with my fist. “What do you think of sparkles?”
