The Unsung Hero (25 page)

"Don't look at me!" She held up her hands and
laughed. "I tend to agree with Vera. It's a little too bizarre for
me." The plight of these two people was rather sad; she felt a
small stab of pity that they were so desperate for a child of their
own, and the fact that they were willing to go to such lengths even
made her admire them to a degree.

But beyond these thoughts, the realization of
the heartache these two people were going through didn't hit home
until several days later, when she walked in on her mother watching
a local talk show that featured this same couple. More out of
courtesy for her mother than any vested interest, she sat down to
watch.

Seeing the actual faces of those two, instead
of merely reading names in a newspaper, made the situation all the
more real and all the more heartrending. Her first impression of
Megan Garrison was that of a woman in intense pain. She was very
blond, and small-boned and fragile-looking. Her husband, Ward, was
as dark as she was fair, good-looking in a rough sort of way. There
was something in the quiet tautness of his tone that caught Jenna's
attention as they pleaded their cause, but it was his wife she
responded to. She listened as they related how a previous attempt
at locating a surrogate had ended in heartbreak: after carrying
the baby to term, the woman had changed her mind at the last
minute. And adoption was all but ruled out; the waiting list was
seven years long at the least—they had been waiting years
already.

Jenna's heart turned over in her chest as she
heard the woman say, "I die a little inside with every day that
goes by, and I see the hope that someday I may hold a child in my
arms grow dimmer and dimmer. And hope is all I have—" Her voice
broke tearfully, and long painful seconds ticked by before she was
able to speak again. "Hope is all I may ever have."

The desperation, the fear, the despair, the
realization that the woman had only this one small thread to cling
to, touched something deep inside Jenna's soul. She longed to reach
out and comfort Megan as her husband was doing, to wrap her arms
around her and tell her that it was only a matter of time before
her hope became a reality.

When it was over Jenna turned to her mother
with a murmur of sympathy on her lips, only to find her doe-soft
eyes swimming with unshed tears.

Jenna rushed to her side. "Mom, what is it?"
Her tone was anxious as she pressed a handkerchief into her
hand.

Marie attempted a watery smile. "I'm all
right." She dabbed at her overflowing eyes and leaned her head back
tiredly. Concerned, Jenna sat on the arm of the chair and searched
her mother's face.

"I'm fine, really," Marie said again. She set
aside the handkerchief and turned to Jenna with a sigh. "It's just
that seeing that couple brought back so many memories." She lapsed
into silence, but again her eyes grew red.

Jenna sat very still. She knew that she had
been adopted because of her mother's fierce desire for a child, but
for a moment she was almost stunned at her mother's heartfelt
reaction to the plight of two people who were, after all,
strangers. Instinctively she said, "You know exactly how that woman
feels, don't you?"

"Oh, yes—exactly." Marie dashed at her eyes,
and Jenna patiently handed the handkerchief back to her. "I wanted
a child so badly I could taste it. Everywhere I looked—the grocery
store, the drugstore, the doctor's office—there were mothers with
children, mothers about to have a baby. And there I was, helpless,
frustrated, hating myself for being jealous and wanting what they
seemed to take for granted." A pained expression flitted across her
face. "No one knows how worthless the inability to have a baby can
make a woman feel—except perhaps a woman who's been through it
herself." A pensive smile curved her lips as she looked up at
Jenna. "But your father was wonderful through it all. He was the
one who suggested adoption." She reached up a hand to cradle
Jenna's cheek in her palm. "You'll never know how much of a
blessing you were. Like a day of sunshine after a storm."

Jenna's throat felt raw. She tried to speak,
but the sound refused to pass through her throat. She could only
grip her mother's hand more tightly. Her eyes turned toward the
television screen, where a newscaster's voice now droned on and
on. She chastised herself for being the most insensitive clod ever
to have been born And yet these two people weren't the only ones
involved.

"I hate to say this..." She hesitated. "But
finding someone to bear a child for them seems so—so drastic." She
slipped onto the carpet in front of the chair, laced her arms
around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "Another woman is
going to have to give up nine months of her life for these people.
How many women would be willing to do that?"

"Oh, Jenna." The raw emotion in Marie's tone
brought Jenna's eyes to her mother's in a flash, and they were held
there by a depth of intensity she'd never glimpsed before. "What
are nine months compared to a lifetime of loneliness? Some women
can go through life without a husband or child, but there are
others who can never be fulfilled unless they can share their love
with a husband and family. Women like Megan Garrison—and me." She
paused, her eyes now shining luminously. "It would take a very
special woman," she said softly. "A woman who isn't afraid to give
all of herself." She shook her head, a wistful smile on her lips.
"I can't imagine being able to give anything more precious than the
gift of life."

The gift of
li
fe. Almost with a sense of awe Jenna
absorbed the words. Her parents had taken her into their home and
their hearts, freely bestowing all the warmth and love they were
capable of giving. She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that
their love for her was no different from what they might have felt
for a natural child, had they been able to have one. And during the
past few minutes, somehow all the long lonely years her mother had
struggled through were poignantly brought to life inside Jenna. She
could feel the same intense longing, the empty ache inside, that
both her mother and Megan Garrison lived with day after day. But
there was one difference.

She rushed to find a pencil and pad. Her
fingers shook as she scribbled down the name of the Garrisons'
Dallas attorney. It might be too late, or they might not want her,
but by heaven, she was going to try. Her heart fluttered almost
painfully in her chest as she looked up at her mother with shining
eyes, her heart nearly bursting with emotion.

She, Jenna Bradford, was determined to have
the child these two people wanted so desperately. For herself, for
Megan Garrison—and for the woman before her, who had given her own
life so much meaning. The woman who had taught her how precious
love really was.

***

"Jenna
." A gentle voice prodded her back to the present. "I
understand what you're going through, but I have to ask this. How
are the Garrisons going to feel about this? Have you talked to them
yet?"

"No." She shook her head quickly, stilling
the sudden pitter-patter of her heart that the words evoked. "I
know we all agreed to make a clean break," she said quietly,
looking straight at her mother. "But I think Megan will come around
fairly quickly."

"And Ward?"

Jenna frowned. She took a sip of her coffee,
grimacing at the cold, bitter taste. Carrying the cup to the sink,
she emptied the contents, pondering the question while she poured
a fresh cup. She had sympathized with Megan even before they had
chosen her for a surrogate, but it had come as a surprise to find
how much she really liked her when they had finally met
face-to-face. Ward, on the other hand, was a different story. He
was sweet, warm and tender with his wife, and though he was
gracious enough the few times the three of them had been together,
he wasn't nearly as easy to read as Megan, who was much more vocal.
In fact, one of the last times she had seen him had left her
feeling rather shaken.

She'd been in her sixth month of pregnancy at
the time. Ward was in Houston on business, and Megan had come along
with him. She'd met with them briefly at their hotel, and Megan was
absolutely delighted at feeling the baby's vigorous movements
inside her.

"Come and feel this!" she'd beckoned to Ward.
Wasting no time, she snatched one large hand in hers and guided it
to Jenna's protruding tummy. "He's doing somersaults in there!"

Jenna had laughed a little self-consciously,
but at the sight of that dark hand lying so intimately on her
belly, she'd felt an odd tightening in her chest. It really brought
home the fact that it was this man's child she was nurturing inside
her, but before she had time to analyze the feeling, the baby
moved. Ward's hazel eyes flitted to hers in surprise before an
oddly shuttered expression came over them, and then he abruptly
snatched away his hand. The incident had hurt for some unknown
reason, and she was left feeling just a little bit wary.

She turned to face her mother. "I'm not sure
how Ward will feel," she admitted. "I didn't do it for him, you
know. I did it for Megan." She mulled a moment longer. "But I think
if Megan agrees, he will, too."

Marie nodded, then smiled. "I already know
what your father will say."

Jenna resumed her place at the table and
shook her head fondly. "He'll boom and bluster the way he did when
I told him what I was up to in the first place, and then he'll say
in that gruff way he has—" she drew her brows together over her
nose and stuck out her lower lip wrathfully "'—you'll do what you
want, anyway!"'

They both ended up laughing at a time when
they very much needed the release. "You obviously see through him
just as I do." Marie laughed one last time, then looked at her
daughter. "How long do you plan on staying?"

Jenna's smile drooped a little, but she kept
it firmly in place. Surely Megan and Ward couldn't deny her if she
was practically camped on their doorstep. She refused to think
beyond that.

"As long as it takes, Mom," she responded
with false lightness. "As long as it takes."

"Then that leaves just one person to contend
with, doesn't it?"

Her mother's voice was so quiet Jenna almost
suspected she knew. Her fingers tensed in her lap. She took a deep
breath. "It's his problem if he doesn't understand, Mom. Because
I'm going to do it, anyway."

Marie darted her a surprised look. "That
doesn't sound like you, Jenna. Surely you and Neil aren't having
problems already? Heavens, you're not even married yet!"

Jenna could tell the laugh she gave was
forced. Suddenly her thoughts darted back to the time when she was
a lanky thirteen-year-old and had just discovered that their
neighbor, Darren Phillips—the boy who threw stones at her and
boasted he was the better baseball player simply by virtue of his
sex—wasn't such a disgusting creature, after all. A ghost of a
smile tipped her lips. Intent on proving him wrong, she'd spent
many an evening with her father pitching a ball to her and giving
her tips on her stance and swing. She'd broken the kitchen window
twice with some very nifty line drives. And then the day came when
Darren had given her her first kiss and she'd decided it was time
to shelve her ball and bat. She had breezed in from outside,
dropped herself at the kitchen table and promptly asked her mother
how a woman knew when she was in love.

She'd never forgotten her mother's reply: "If
you ever have to ask yourself if you're in love," she'd said with a
secretive smile, "then you're probably not."

Suddenly Jenna couldn't help but recall the
moment last night when she hadn't been able to tell Neil she loved
him.

Marie reached out a hand to cover Jenna's.
"You're not having second thoughts, are you, dear?"

Her reply was a long time in coming. "Neil is
everything a woman could possibly want in a man. He's mature,
nice-looking, attentive, and he has a very good job. Yes, he was a
prize catch, according to her friends in E.R.

"That doesn't tell me much, Jenna. You say
Neil is everything a woman could want in a man, but is he
everything you want? You know I like Neil," Marie said slowly, "and
I'll be more than happy to have him as a son-in-law, but we're
talking about your happiness. And what you just said sounds
strangely like an excuse." Her mother gave her a long, thoughtful
look. "None of us needs excuses for loving, Jenna. Do you?"

Jenna looked down to where her hands rested
in a white-knuckled grip in her lap. This time she didn't
answer—though not because she didn't want to. She couldn't.

All of a sudden she didn't know.

***

Things didn't fare well at all with Neil
that night. The changing expressions on his face would have been
rather comical if the situation hadn't been quite so serious.
Jenna could almost see the wheels turning in his head. At first he
looked totally blank when she mentioned the term "surrogate
mother." An extremely brief look of amazement came next, followed
by disbelief and then what she really hadn't expected to see--a
cold-faced fury. In fact, if the truth were known, she had been
much more worried about Megan's and Ward's reaction than
Neil's.

"Damn it, Jenna! How could you do something
so harebrained, so foolhardy, so thoughtless?" Neil slammed his
fist down on an end table and glared at her. "You, of all
people!"

"Why, thank you. I'll take that as a
compliment!" Her voice dripped icicles as she watched him pace
around her living room. "It wasn't thoughtless, Neil," she
countered harshly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into."

"And did you think about how you might feel
five or ten years down the road? Did you ever think about how
you're feeling now!"