Free The Surrogate, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book one by Leonard Foglia, David Richards Page A

before. That was the fatigue.
    In the past, the lunchtime shift at the Blue Dawn Diner had barely phased her. But after only an hour or so, the small of her back had started to ache, and then her arches gave way, and her only desire was to collapse in the back booth and raise up her feet. Weren’t the pre-natal vitamins supposed to do something about that?
    Her ebbing energy had been accompanied, unfortunately, by a surge in business. All through the waning months of winter, the clientele had dwindled down to the hard-core regulars. But now that the trees were in leaf (and the jonquils had actually come and gone), people were out and about and there was renewed demand for Bobby’s homemade meatloaf. Tips were up, even if Hannah’s stamina was down and she was not at all relishing the prospect of an evening shift that would begin in another few hours.
    “Whatever the world believes, the life of a waitress is not an easy lot,” proclaimed Teri. “You look pooped.”
    “I am. I think I’ll go home and grab a nap before tonight. Do you mind?”
    “Hell, no. I’ll do the prep work. Give yourself an extra fifteen minutes.” Teri watched the younger woman plod wearily out to her car. Someone, she thought, should warn her about burning the candle at both ends.
    As Hannah made her way up the walk to the house, all she could imagine was how good it would be to crawl under the covers and escape into dreamland for 90 precious, unbroken minutes. She heard the television in the living room, then Ruth’s voice calling out, “Is that you, Hannah? What are you doing home so early?”
    “Hi, Aunt Ruth. I’m just going to my room.” Not wanting to get drawn into a conversation, she started up the stairs.
    “Are you going to be up there long?”
    “I thought I’d lie down a bit before I went back to the diner.”
    “You’ve been tired a lot lately, Hannah. You don’t suppose you’re coming down with something, do you?”
    “No, Aunt Ruth. It’s been busy at the diner, that’s all.”
    The television clicked off. “Nineteen-year-old girls shouldn’t be tired all the time,” came the voice from the living room.
    “It’s not just me. Teri and Bobby are pretty wiped, too. Mr. Hatcher’s thinking about putting on another waitress.”
    “Well, I guess that explains it. I guess there’s no cause for me to be concerned then.”
    Hannah recognized the tone, both vaguely accusatory and self-pitying. Ruth was in one of her moods, which was all the more reason to get upstairs quickly and shut the bedroom door. She made the mistake of lingering a few seconds longer and asking, “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
    “Oh, I’m fine. Leastwise, fine as can be expected. Under the circumstances.”
    Hannah saw her nap evaporating. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to be subjected to Ruth’s latest complaints. With a sigh of resignation, she turned and went back down the stairs. “What’s wrong, Aunt Ruth?”
    Her aunt was sitting erect on the couch, staring straight ahead, her mouth pulled into a thin line. “Maybe you should tell me, young lady.” She acknowledged her niece with a stony look, then her eyes traveled to the coffee table in front of the couch.
    There, lying on the polished wood, was the brochure, “Exercise for Moms-to-Be,” that Letitia Greene had mailed out two months ago. It took Hannah only a moment to comprehend what had happened. And all this time she’d made such an effort to be careful. She’d re-directed the calls from Partners in Parenthood to the diner and the mail to Box 127. Anything relating to surrogacy, which was very little, she kept hidden at the back of her closet.
    “I’m still waiting, young lady.”
    “It’s something I sent away for,” Hannah mumbled, after a long silence.
    “Oh?” Ruth said. “And what about these?” She produced a plastic bottle of capsules and placed it down hard on the coffee table.
    “Did you send away for these, too? Pre-natal