Vada Faith Read Online Free PDF Page B

do was say something I shouldn’t.
    “Just mumbling,” he said, giving a full body stretch. He pulled on his old jeans. “I’ll put on coffee.” He never got up at this hour unless he wanted to talk.
    Unfortunately I knew what was on his mind.
    I’d already decided that what John Wasper didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. It wouldn’t hurt my sister either. She always wanted to do my thinking for me but this time I wasn’t letting her. If I wanted to use my own eggs to create this baby I would.
    After taking my shower, I sat at the table with the morning newspaper and my coffee. I tried to focus on the Gazette’s top story about the recent vandalism out at the local cemetery.
    “I can’t get this surrogacy thing off my mind,” John Wasper said, coming into the kitchen and draping his large, handsome frame over the chair across from me. “Why do you want to do this, honey? It’s not natural, having a baby for someone else.”
    “I told you. I want to help this poor childless couple. Look at this,” I said, pushing the newspaper towards him. “Vandals went into the cemetery and destroyed some of the old Civil War tombstones.”
    “I want to talk about this surrogacy some more, Vada Faith.” He stared at me.
    I kept my eyes on the newspaper as if the cemetery story was the most engrossing story in the world. “How awful!” I commented.
    He ignored me. “Is there something you’re aren’t telling me?” His big, beautiful brown eyes looked right inside my soul. “I know you, Vada Faith. So, come on. Give.”
    “All right,” I said putting down the paper and taking a gulp of hot coffee that burned all the way down. “I’m getting paid fifty-thousand dollars.” I paused a minute to let that sink in and then continued. “Expenses. Clothes, and anything else I might want or need.”
    “So,” he shook his head giving me a strange look, “this is really all about money and since when did money mean so much to you? You never cared about money before. I can’t believe you’d risk your life for a few bucks.” He traced the handle of his coffee cup with a finger that was redwood stained from the porch furniture he’d recently painted.
    He was always doing something to improve the old house. It needed more work than we had money or time for and I couldn’t help it if his grandmother had left it to us or if Eleanor Roosevelt had had tea on the porch with Grandma Belle. I wanted a new house.
    “I’m not risking my life for a few bucks,” I said, pleading with him. “It will mean a lot to me to help these people and you have to admit the money would help us out.” I sipped my coffee. “I want things. Things I don’t have. Things I’m never going to have. I want a new house out in that beautiful subdivision. There are only a few left.”
    “I know, Vada Faith. You can wait just a little longer. There’s talk at work about me getting a promotion. My boss said to hang in. We just have to wait on some things. Who do you know’s got everything they want, anyway? You get those things, you’ll only want more. How come you can’t ever be happy? You’ve never been. Not since we met.”
    “That’s not fair. This isn’t about me being happy. It’s about me doing something important before I die. Life is passing me by.”
    “Jeez, you’re young still.” He went to the counter and poured more coffee into his cup. He turned and stared at me. “How can life be passing you by when you haven’t even lived yet?”
    “You’re right! I haven’t lived yet and I want to start. Right now. While I have time. I want my obituary to say more than ‘she was a hairdresser.’ I’ve been tied to that beauty shop too long. I’m there day and night cutting, dyeing, perming, and curling hair. Do you know I dream about hair?”
    “Honey, you’ve always loved doing hair.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “All you need is a little vacation. A break from your job.”
    “I need more than a break. How would you