Chapter five

Susan arrived to visit Mirabel, and they settled by the pool, engaging in light conversation while sipping their wine.

"I’ve devised a plan to have a child," Susan announced.

"What? Are you seeing someone to settle down with?" Mirabel inquired.

"No, as I’ve told you, I’m done with relationships. What I mean is to get pregnant through surrogacy," Susan replied, her tone revealing her determination, much to Mirabel's astonishment.

"Surrogacy? Why choose that route?" Mirabel asked.

"It’s the only way I can have a baby without relying on a man. I have enough money to care for my child; all I need to do is visit the family doctor to obtain a male sperm, and then it’s done," she explained.

"Susan, this isn’t the life I envision for you. I want you to marry and create a happy family, one that’s better than mine," Mirabel urged.

"But it hasn’t worked for me. I’ve given my heart too many times, only to see it shattered repeatedly. I don’t believe a happy family is my fate. Look at me, Mira; I’m not getting any younger. In less than two years, I’ll be forty. I want someone to call my child, to call me ‘Mom.’ I don’t care if people judge me or look down on me. Heaven knows I’ve tried to build a family, but I’ve always ended up with the wrong ones," Susan confessed, sadly. Mirabel pulled her into a warm embrace.

"It’s alright. I will continue to pray for you and support you," she said softly.

Meanwhile, Jimmy, who had been hiding and listening to their conversation, let out a deep sigh before walking away.

Later that cool evening, Jimmy sat on his bed, jotting down thoughts in his journal when Rachel entered, catching him in the act.

"This is amusing; it’s quite funny to see a guy writing a diary," Rachel teased, and he looked up at her, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

"What are you doing here? How many times must I tell you to knock before entering?" he snapped.

"Your door is never locked, so don’t blame me," she shot back.

"Leave my room," he insisted, turning back to his writing. Rachel, undeterred, perched herself on the edge of the bed, watching him intently.

"What are you writing, bro?" she asked.

"It’s none of your business. Leave my room," he repeated.

"Is that your secret you’re writing down in there?" she prodded, and he sighed wearily, placing the journal on the bed.

Rising, he walked over to her, grasped her arm, and pulled her towards the door as she struggled against him. With a firm push, he ejected her from the room, locking the door behind him before returning to his journal to continue his writing.

********

The following day at school, Jimmy and Taylor, accompanied by their friends, gathered in the canteen, but Jimmy seemed lost in a world of his own.

“Jimmy,” Taylor called, pulling him from his reverie. “What’s the matter? You’re totally spaced out.”

“Um, nothing. I’m fine,” he replied, his gaze drifting back to his plate.

“Are you sure?” Samuel inquired.

“Yes, I’m good,” he assured them, returning to his meal.

Later that evening, Mirabel busied herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner while simultaneously chatting on the phone with Susan, stirring the pot with one hand. Jimmy entered and made his way toward her.

“Have you made an appointment with him?” Mirabel asked into the phone, pausing to await Susan’s response. “Okay, we’ll go see him tomorrow. Talk to you later. Love you.” She hung up and noticed her son’s presence. “Hey, son! How was school today?” she asked, smiling as he leaned against the cabinet.

“Mom, is Aunty Susan okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I think she was the one you were talking to earlier. Did something happen?”

“No, son, nothing happened. Your aunt and I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow, but it’s nothing serious.”

“I know what it is, Mom,” he replied, causing her to pause and look at him intently.

“You do?”

“Yes. I overheard you talking about it two days ago. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I just happened to walk by.” Mirabel sighed, sensing the weight of his words. “Do you really want her to go through with that?”

“I have no say, son. It’s her decision.”

“She’s your best friend! You could talk her out of it. That’s not the life I want for her; she’s still so young and full of life.”

“I understand, son, but you must realize that age is not on her side. She’s a woman, and women often have shorter patience than men.”

“I get that, Mom, but surrogacy isn’t the best option. What if she ends up giving birth to a child from a bad lineage? It’s dangerous. Please don’t let her do it. I know there’s someone out there for her. Just tell her,” he urged, and Mirabel considered the wisdom in his words.

*****

The following day, Mirabel visited Susan’s house, finding her in the midst of getting ready while she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Susan, I really think you shouldn’t see the doctor,” she said gently.

“Why not?” Susan asked.

“Jimmy knows about it, and he’s against it.”

“How? Did you tell him?”

“No, he overheard us talking about it, and I sensed some truth in his concerns.”

“Mira…” Susan sighed as she sat beside her, and Mirabel took her hands in hers.

“Give love another chance. Maybe this time it will work.”

“Mira, I can’t. Please don’t let me go through with this.”

“Believe me, this time it will lead to a happy ending for you.” They embraced warmly, and Susan sniffed, her heart heavy but hopeful.

♥√♦♥♦♥♥

A week later, Susan was alone in the clubhouse. She settled onto a barstool, sipping her drink, expertly crafted by the barman. Dressed in a mini outfit that accentuated her long legs, she drew the gaze of many, even those accompanied by their partners. Some approached her with bold advances, yet she dismissed them, preferring to savor her solitude.

The barman, noticing her pensive demeanor, decided to intervene.

"I see this is your first visit," he remarked, eliciting a smile from Susan.

"Yes, I've heard it's the best place to escape boredom."

"Absolutely."

"It's nice; I'm having fun," she replied.

"It doesn’t seem that way. You look a bit troubled. Is something on your mind?" he inquired gently.

"Nah, I'm fine," she insisted, though he could see she was trying to mask her feelings.

"Perhaps this will help," he said, mixing a cocktail and presenting it to her. "It's on the house."

"Thank you." She took a sip, her eyes widening at the delightful flavor. "It's lovely; I really like it."

"I knew you would. Enjoy."

"May I have another?"

"Well, it does contain 80% alcohol."

"I don't mind; I want to let loose tonight and have some fun."

"Alright, if that's what you wish," he replied, filling another glass for her.

Minutes slipped by, and as the alcohol took hold, she began to unburden herself to the barman, who listened attentively.

"I don't understand why I keep getting hurt. Do you think I’m cursed?" she asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

"No, you’re not cursed. You simply haven’t met the right person yet."

"The right person?" She scoffed. "Soon enough, I’ll be forty. Where will I find him?"

"You never know; he might be closer than you think," he said, eliciting a hearty laugh from her.

"I doubt that." She hiccuped, reaching for her drink, but the barman gently took it away.

"I think you’ve had enough," he said.

"I want more."

Just then, a deep, muscular voice broke through. "Hello, beautiful," it called from behind her. She turned to see a man approaching. "Care to share a drink with me?"

"Go away; you’re not my type," she replied, turning back to the barman. Yet, the man persisted, inching closer in an attempt to flirt, when suddenly, a firm hand seized the intruder's wrist and twisted it away.

"Keep your filthy hands off her!" Jimmy spat, his eyes fierce with protectiveness. The man recoiled, recognizing the threat in Jimmy's stance. "Aunty Susan," he called, gripping her arm gently.

She turned, her vision slightly hazy, and struggled to focus.

"Who are you?" she asked, pushing him away. "I told you, you’re not my type. Don’t touch me," she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering.

"Do you know her?" the barman asked.

"Yes, she’s my mom’s friend."

“Oh, I see.”

“How many did she drink?”

“More than you can imagine. Since you’re here, perhaps you could take her home. She has much to contend with, and I hope she finds love again.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy replied, he removed his jacket and helped Susan to her feet, tying the fabric around her waist before lifting her onto his shoulder.

“Put me down!” she protested, struggling against him.

Jimmy grabbed her bag and thanked the bartender once more before making his way out. The bartender watched them leave, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Outside the bar, Jimmy opened the door to his car and gently set her down, attempting to guide her inside. She pushed away from him, swaying slightly, and turned to head back into the bar. But Jimmy caught her hand, pulling her back, and she tumbled into his arms, her fingers splaying against his chest. He swallowed hard as he felt her warm breath against him.

“Wow, you smell just like my Jimmy. He’s the only one with this scent,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest.

Jimmy exhaled deeply, slowly helping her into the car. He fastened her seatbelt and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before returning to the driver’s seat. With a cautious glance at the busy road ahead, he set off into the night.