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“I don’t cook so much anymore, but this is a special occasion.” She smiled at me.
At least one person was attempting to make me feel welcome. “What do you normally eat, if you don’t cook?” I asked.
“Sigmund cooks when he’s here, or I make a large batch of something and freeze it. I also frequent the pub down the road more than I probably should.”
“Ah. You’ll have to take me there. I’d love to treat you to dinner before I leave to thank you for your hospitality.”
“That would be lovely.”
The three of us eventually sat down at the table, quietly eating the stew, the occasional clanking of our spoons the only sound.
“What is your surname, Abby?” Lavinia finally asked.
“Knickerbocker.”
Sig’s eyes shot up from his plate. “Knicker…like knickers?”
I knewknickerswas the term Brits used for underpants. “Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “Spelled exactly that way, actually.”
He chuckled.
“You’ve been quiet this whole dinner, and that’s the first thing you think to say to me? Benedictus is a bit of an odd name, too, you know.” My blood boiled. “So is Sigmund, for that matter. You don’t look like a Sigmund Benedictus.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It was actually a compliment.”
Lavinia snorted.
Sig shot daggers at her. “What is it that you do, Abby?” he asked.
I sat straighter in my seat. “I graduated with a degree in English from the University of Rhode Island. At the moment, I’m between jobs, but I’m in the process of trying to reopen my mother’s store. After she passed away, I kept it afloat for a while, but the economy tanked, and we had to shut down.”
He swirled his drink around in his glass. “What type of store?”
“Rhode Island-themed trinkets and souvenirs.”
“That’s where that hideous T-shirt you’re wearing came from, I assume.”
I ignored his comment. “We live in a sea town and get an influx of people in the summer months. But even with that, we weren’t able to keep things running for too long after my mother died.”
His tone softened. “What happened to your mother?”
I swallowed. “She died of cancer three years ago.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
After a moment, he spoke again. “So, if you’re trying to reopen the shop, you need money. That’s why you’re interested in the surrogacy, I take it.”
I couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be an insult. “Well, the money won’t hurt, but there aremucheasier ways to make quick money than to be pregnant for nine months.”
“So, you don’twantto be pregnant?” He drew in his brows. “Why offer?”
“I didn’t say that at all. My point is that no one would offer to do thisjustfor the money. You have to want to help someone.”
“Why do you want to help Phil and Kate?” Sig leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. It seemed our casual dinner had transformed into a formal interrogation.
