The Offering (40 page)

The boy ducked beneath the safety of his mother's arm, then peeped out at me.

I smiled and wriggled my fingers in a little wave, but could barely see him through the veil of my tears.

I did not fly directly home after leaving France. Instead, I flew through the night to Washington, D.C., and then took a taxi to Arlington Cemetery. Because I'd been giving birth to Julien at the time of Gideon's funeral, I had yet to visit my husband's grave site.

I found section 35, site 2598, in a quiet part of the park, far from the tourists who milled around the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and the Kennedy grave sites. I sank to my knees in the soft grass and studied the white stone marker:
Gideon Gosling Lisandra, Lieutenant, Joint Special Operations Command. June 3, 1976–December 6, 2008. Afghanistan.

Gideon had been laid to rest next to a World War II vet, and I knew he'd like that. He used to say World War II and the first few days after September 11 were the last occasions America pulled together, and he feared for the state of our country if we didn't learn how to pull together again.

“Gideon.” I whispered his name above an overwhelming rise of yearning for the man who had been my friend, my husband, and the father of two beautiful children. “You'll never know how much I miss you, but I'm finally learning to stand on my own two feet. With a lot of help, of course, mostly from your family. They've been so kind to me, and they miss you terribly. But you're very much with us. You'll always be with us.”

I paused to listen to a swallow calling to its mate from a nearby tree. The poor fellow sounded nearly as lonely as I felt.

“I came to tell you something. And if you can't hear me, then I trust the Lord to relay this message.” I closed my eyes. “We have
a two-year old son. We have a beautiful boy who's growing up in France. He's very much loved by both his parents and he's going to inherit a beautiful vineyard.” I swallowed back a sob and shook my head, willing myself not to cry. “They say the Lord works in mysterious ways, and this may be one of his strangest plans yet. I wanted to bring Julien home—you can't imagine how badly I wanted to—but in the end, I couldn't rip him away from the only mama and papa he's ever known. I know you'll understand why.”

I brushed my hand over the manicured grass on my husband's earthly resting place. “Simone and Damien have promised that I will always be a part of Julien's life. I'm not sure what that's going to look like, but I'm going to see him every time an opportunity arises. I want Marilee to know her brother . . . and all the rest of
la familia,
too.”

I listened to my warbling serenader until the last drop of birdsong faded, then I reached out and traced the granite letters of my love's first name. “I spoke to your mama before I left for France. Though I hadn't totally decided what I would do when I met the Amblours, I think she guessed, because she came over to hug me before I went to the airport. As she walked me to the car, I remembered that she'd lost your sister, so I asked if the pain of losing a child ever goes away. ‘No,' she said, ‘but the pain changes. And you carry it around like a pebble in your pocket.' ”

I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out one of the two small stones I'd picked up from Mama Isa's driveway. “I will carry mine in memory of Julien, and I've brought one for you. Remember—we will all be together one day.”

I set the little rock on the grave marker, then lifted my gaze to the treetops and the bright blue heaven beyond. “I'll always love you, Gid. I'm going back to school because I have to keep living, but I'll be first in line to find you by the river.”

Thanksgiving

O
nce again Mama Isa's house filled with the sounds of music and merrymaking; once again her kitchen table creaked beneath the weight of a turkey and dozens of tempting dishes. As Marilee and I got out of the car and walked through the men assembled on the front porch, I realized the area seemed smaller than usual—or maybe there were simply more men on the porch. Mario, Jorge, and Tumelo sat on the left side, where Mario and Tumelo played checkers while Jorge cheered them on. On the right side, Grandpa Gordon occupied the center chair while he entertained seven-year-old Johny and eight-year-old Julien with a demonstration of cat's cradle.

“Good afternoon, boys.” I kissed two foreheads, then wrapped an arm around Johny's shoulders and ran my fingers through Julien's curls. “Julien!
Où sont ta mère et ton père?
”

“Inside the house,” he said, his English far smoother than my French. He gestured toward the front door.
“Dans la cuisine.”

His parents were already in the kitchen? I went inside, then wound my way through the relatives and discovered Simone and Damien working at Mama Isa's table. Simone wore a faded apron and stirred something chocolaty while Damien stood guard over several bottles from Domaine de Amblour. The recently widowed
Yaritza, now ninety-three, sat beside the bottles and watched Damien with a narrow-eyed gaze.

Amelia sidled over, nudged me with an elbow, and jerked her chin in Yaritza's direction. “What do you think? Is she sizing up the man or his European tailor?”

I laughed. “Offer to seat him beside her at dinner. Then you'll have your answer.”

“Bonjour!”
Damien waved at me before commencing to pour a glass for my mother. “Merry Thanksgiving to you!”

“That's ‘
Happy
Thanksgiving,' ” I answered, stopping to hug my mom. I stepped back and met her gaze. “I'm glad you came. Everything okay up there in The Villages?”

“There's a bit of a controversy over golf cart parking areas,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “But I'm dating the president of the homeowners association, so I've got a great seat for the shuffleboard championship.”

I laughed and moved toward Simone, who was staring at the contents of her bowl with a perplexed expression. “Simone, how well you look! When did you get in?”

She glanced around as if searching for a calendar, then shrugged. “We flew in the night before yesterday, and came here straightaway. Madame Alejandro has been so kind to give us her guest rooms—”

“She'll be offended if you don't call her Mama Isa,” I said. “After all, you're part of the family, too.”

“I keep telling her to be less formal,” Damien said, looking younger and more relaxed than I had ever seen him. “But she forgets.”

“After all these years, she ought to remember.” I grinned and ran my finger along the edge of her bowl, then tasted the dark batter. “Yummy. What is it?”

“I am not certain,” Simone confessed. “But after it is mixed, I am to put it in a square pan and bake it.”

“Probably brownies.” I squeezed her arm, then went to help Elaine and Yanela with the pig roasting in the backyard.

Later, when we had all gathered around the long pine table at the end of Mama Isa's rectangular kitchen, I looked around the circle and couldn't stop a smile. Somehow, against all odds, we had become a family. When I surrendered my right to claim my son all those years ago, I never dreamed we would come together like this.

Now Jorge, acting as host, thanked God for the food and our family. After his amen, we passed heaping bowls of deliciousness around the table. As we served ourselves and the noise level rose several decibels, I glanced at Marilee, who was sitting next to me at the grown-up table now that she'd turned fourteen. “Have you had much of a chance to talk to Julien?”

“Not yet”—she crinkled her nose—“ 'cause he's acting like such a
boy
! Do you know what he and Johny were doing outside? A burping contest! I thought the French were supposed to be more civilized.”

I laughed and assured her that boys would be boys, no matter where they grew up.

Thank heaven for that.

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION

1. Before reading this novel, had you ever given much thought to the ethics of surrogate parenting? What about the ethics of in vitro fertilization?

2. What do you think about Mandy's motives for deciding to become a surrogate?

3. At one point, Mandy thinks,
And, unlike Millie, I hoped my lifetime would hold far more significant feats than having someone else's baby.
Knowing what you know about Mandy, what do you think is the most significant thing she has accomplished thus far?

4. If you were in Mandy's situation, what would you do about the child you suspected of being your biological son? Would you let him remain where he was or would you want to raise him yourself? Do you agree with Mandy's decision?

5. Do you think Mandy really chose the best answer for Julien? What was the best answer for her?

6. When Mandy first finds out about Julien's resemblance to Marilee, she believes “blood trumps everything” even though she wouldn't have applied that principle in the situation with Amelia, Mario, and the three-year-old foster son they were forced to surrender. If you were a judge in family court, how would you rule in situations like these?

7. Did you enjoy the first-person writing style? Do you wish you'd had a peek into any other characters' heads?

8. Who was your favorite character? What did you especially like about them? Which character did you like the least?

9. Did you experience any sort of emotional trauma in your childhood? How did the incident affect you? How are you different today because of the event? Are you comfortable talking about the trauma as an adult?

10. What do you think the future holds for Mandy? For Julien? For Marilee?

11. Have you read any of Angela Hunt's other books? How does this novel compare to the other books you've read?

A CONVERSATION WITH ANGELA HUNT

What kind of research did you conduct on surrogacy and adoption for
The Offering
? What did you discover about practices in the United States versus other countries?

I did quite a bit of research on surrogacy—I read a book written by a surrogate mother, plus I read several recent articles about the increase in surrogacy among military wives. As referenced in the
novel, I discovered that surrogacy is easier in the U.S. than in many European countries. As to adoption—I've lived that!

In
The Offering
, Mandy considers the cultural repercussions of carrying another man's child since she is part of a large Cuban family. What other cultural implications do you think exist, both inside and outside of Cuban culture?

I do think that most cultural objections to surrogacy rise from misunderstanding—people don't realize that gestational carriers are carrying a child that is completely unrelated to the pregnant woman. The Mary Beth Whitehead case, where the child developed from Ms. Whitehead's egg and so was her biological child, forced many parents to abandon true surrogacy and opt instead for a gestational carrier.

How did you use faith and religion to inform Mandy's and several other characters' decisions? What kind of role does faith play in your own life?

I believe that God created every life for a purpose—so we should behave responsibly toward unborn children even if they are only at the blastocyst stage. Too many doctors don't fully inform parents about “discarded embryos” and too many IVF parents don't realize—or don't want to know—that they may be asked to “discard” fully human lives. I have no problem with IVF or surrogacy as long as everyone involved fully understands the bioethical issues and resolves to preserve all human life: that would mean no freezing of embryos (because half of those embryos probably won't survive the thawing procedure) and fertilizing only as many eggs as a woman is willing and able to carry in a pregnancy.

Have you ever heard of the kind of mistake that happened with Mandy's pregnancy?

Fortunately, no. But I have read about IVF cases where a woman
gave birth to two babies who were supposed to be her genetic offspring but weren't. I've also read about a British couple whose last frozen embryo was implanted in another woman who, upon learning of the mistake, aborted the baby she was carrying. I've met an American family whose frozen embryo was implanted in another woman, but she chose to surrender the child to the biological parents at birth. Some heartbreaking mistakes have occurred in the field of reproductive medicine.

In
The Offering
, some of the characters seemed judgmental of Mandy's chief motivator—money—for participating in surrogacy. Do you think that's a good enough reason to participate in such a significant and potentially devastating task? If you were giving advice to a friend considering surrogacy, what would you tell her?

Money is not the root of all evil—the love of money is, and Mandy was not in love with money, she was simply trying to help her family. Her motivation was no different from mine when I show up to work each morning. But if someone I knew wanted to be a gestational carrier, I would warn her that the chief ethical danger is the cheapening of human life. If a doctor or the intended parents intend to treat IVF embryos like spare parts, or if they even mention selective termination (aborting one or more babies because too many embryos implanted), I would urge her to find another place to fulfill her desire to serve a childless couple.

The Offering
feels like the intimate trials and musings of a close friend, and it's difficult to shake the feeling that you're reading someone's journal. How personal did the book end up being for you?

As an adoptive parent, for years I have had a keen interest in life and parenting issues. And as someone who worked hard to add children to our family, I must admit that I wanted Mandy to get
custody of her baby boy. When I discussed my book-in-progress with some friends, I was stunned that they thought Mandy was being selfish. My goodness, why wouldn't she want to raise her own child? I'd fight tooth and nail to have my baby back in my arms. But when I considered that the Amblours were good parents, and because I know the first two years of a child's life are crucial for healthy development, I realized that Mandy would have to consider what was best for Julien. And sacrificing for the child—isn't that what motherhood is all about?