MYSTIQUE

Here's a short story i wrote a while ago for a creative writing course...



She gets up with a start, looking out of the window. Oh dear! She wails. She was going to hate this. Realising how late she was running, she skipped the shower, and hurriedly dressed up.
Rounding the corner, she smoothes her hands down her skirt, wiping perspiration off and trying to keep the wind from blowing it up at the same time. In her hurry, she bumps into him. She is mortified because she realises that she looks like a mess. He sees her and walks on rather rudely, not bothering to apologise. She curses him under her breath, realising she’s too much in a hurry to stop and hurl insults.
Finally she gets inside, looking around at the oriental-looking restaurant. She smells something and becomes physically sick. Before she can run to the loo, she vomits at the feet of the man standing nearby. Looking up to apologise, she realises it is him. Yet again.
This time she asks for a name. He tells her. She knew he looked vaguely familiar. He was the donor and the reason she was feeling so out of character. She knew the very moment she got up, that she was not going to enjoy this meet. The events of the evening further confirmed it. Not knowing what to do or say, she looked down at her regurgitated lunch. Silence….
That was what brought them together.…

I prefer to go by my alias, Mystique, due to the delicate nature of my job. I am tall and dark skinned, with little brown freckles covering my high cheekbones. I have auburn coloured hair, full pink lips and a dimple. I am 19 years old and I am a surrogate mum. I have been for the past 4 years of my life. It has brought me more money than any day job ever would. I am meeting the father of the child in my womb for the first time. Nothing quite prepared me for the meeting that day. I did not realise he was so good-looking. Their child is going to be a beautiful one. He opens his mouth to speak and I am sucked right in… “Wow,” he exclaims, “I did not realise you would be so young”. I reply, “I realise that, but you know what they say, the fresher the egg…”. I say this all the while, trying to wipe my vomit off his brand new collezione shoes. He calls for a waiter to clear the mess up, while we both get seated. I get the feeling that he is nervous, though I cannot imagine why. He tells me his wife would have been here today but for her fibroid operation which did not go too well. At this point, I begin to wonder how I am supposed to go for the ante-natal with a man, who obviously has no clue. “So”, I say, “let me save you the embarrassment of looking totally clueless . You can give me the upkeep money and I would be fine on my own. My regards to your wife when you get home.” He replies, “You don’t understand, she died this morning.”
Dear God, I sigh. A million thoughts run through my mind at once. “What am I supposed to do with the baby now?” I blurt out. “I was hoping to be able to keep it because it’s the only connection that remains between me and my dead wife”. Realising how selfish I sounded, I backtracked a bit, apologised and just let him speak. “Apparently, something went wrong with the surgery and she started to bleed internally. She died in my arms before the ambulance could get there. She made me promise to meet up with you and follow through with the plans. She really wanted to care for a child.”
The logical part of my brain kicked in once again. “I am really sorry for your loss Mr, but you do realise this is business for me. All I do is carry the baby to term, hand over to the new parents and collect my cash. I am not responsible for whatever happens after that. I am afraid I cannot help you care for a child. It would mess my schedule up.” To this he replies, “Oh I am not expecting you to. I would hire a live-in nanny to deal with the parts I cannot handle. All I need from you is to move into our house till the baby is born. Rosie was really specific about the whole thing. She wanted a water birth because it is apparently less painful and she wanted you on a strict vegetarian diet, you know, for the health of the child.” I am flabbergasted. Do these people realise I have a life that does not involve that baby? I reply, “Listen Mr, I am not sure that is a very good idea. You can come and check on me as often as you like but I cannot leave my place for the next eight months. In the terms of the contract, I let it be known that I am a healthy eater, though not vegan. I can call my lawyer if you like.” He says, “I am really sorry to upset you, I just thought we could reach a compromise that would keep us both happy.” I begin to feel like a heel now and volunteer to let him come by my place, see how I live and all that, just to put his mind at rest. I finish up my green tea and we leave the restaurant.
A few hours later, he is sitting comfortably on my sofa while I fish for a feel-good DVD to cheer him up. I find “the notebook” and put that in. Turns out it was a bad choice, because he begins to sob uncontrollably in the middle of the movie. He begins to tell me that his wife was his first love and the movie only evoked those memories.I get him tissues and hold him for awhile but he is still grieving. I am at my wits end now because I am expecting my first client in another 30 mins. You see, I am an escort, as well as a surrogate mother and it is bad for my business for him to remain in my flat. This is the major reason why I cannot leave my residence to stay at his house. I am hoping to be able to get enough money before my bump becomes obvious and I have to stop for awhile. A pity fuck is the only thing that will get him out of my place in good time, and possibly ease the grief. So I unzip his jeans, pull him on top of me and guide him into my wetness. At first he resists, mumbling a few words under his breath. He looks into my face rather blankly and then gives into the feeling. I am thinking that if a movie won’t cheer him up, perhaps sex will…


what do you think?