Baby Business. Brenda Novak

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      “WHAT ARE YOU still doing at the office?” Kevin demanded, sticking his head into the room. “It’s after midnight.”

      Thad pushed away from the computer and rubbed his eyes. He’d long since removed his tie, rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, but he longed for a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt and a greasy hamburger. “Macy McKinney needs the money right away. I’m trying to come up with an agreement that will protect my interests if I give it to her.”

      Kevin came into the room. “So she is the one.”

      Thad nodded, his mind still submerged in the glowing text on his computer screen. “Hang on a minute.”

      Rolling his chair back to the keyboard, he started typing again, revising, “Macy McKinney, hereinafter known as ‘Birth mother’ hereby agrees to appear at each and every doctor’s appointment scheduled for the upkeep and maintenance of the pregnancy,” to “Macy McKinney, hereinafter known as ‘Birth mother’ hereby agrees to allow Thad Winters to accompany her to each and every doctor’s appointment scheduled for the upkeep and maintenance of the pregnancy.”

      There, that ought to keep him informed of what was going on, he thought. He’d hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasound, make sure Macy was gaining enough weight.

      But doctor’s appointments were only once a month. How could he ensure she’d look after herself during the other times? He couldn’t exactly specify how often she had to eat and rest, could he? He considered inserting a clause on basic health care, wondering if she’d agree to a stipulation that she exercise half an hour every day, when Kevin cleared this throat.

      Thad looked up to find his partner reading over his shoulder.

      “You’re kidding, right?”

      “No. Why would I be?”

      “You’re going to hand the woman a hundred thousand dollars, have her sign this contract and expect a baby in nine months?”

      Thad scowled at the censure in Kevin’s voice. “Not exactly in that order. I’m going to make sure she’s pregnant first, have her sign the contract, then give her the money.”

      “And after she signs it, are you going to pinkie-swear, too? What do you do if she breaks your little contract? Say she miscarries and refuses to be inseminated again. Or she changes her mind, for whatever reason, and aborts the baby. You can’t exactly sue her. Think about it. You don’t have a legal contract. Last I checked, you couldn’t ‘sell’ a baby in America. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, but it does means any contract trying to enforce your rights won’t be worth the paper it’s written on. She’ll end up with the money, and you’ll end up with nothing.”

      Thad stretched his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built up in his shoulders. Kevin was right about the contract. Deep down, he’d known it all along. But he’d slogged through the verbiage of what he’d like to guarantee, purposely ignoring the harsher reality. Because he was going to give Macy the money. He couldn’t do anything else, would never risk her daughter’s life by demanding she perform first.

      “Bottom line, the money’s your only guarantee, buddy,” Kevin continued. “You should work it out to where she gets very little until the baby is born.”

      “And if she needs to pay for a bone marrow transplant for her little girl, who is lying in a hospital right now, dying of cancer?” Thad asked.

      Kevin stared at him. “So that’s why she came.”

      “Right again.”

      His partner shook his head. “You’re screwed.”

      “Not yet.”

      “You are if you’re going to rely on a written contract to get what you want.”

      “That might be true.” Thad massaged his temples. Another thought had flitted through his mind while he’d been working on the contract, but he’d resisted it. It returned to haunt him now. It wasn’t a guarantee exactly, but was probably the closest he was going to get.

      “There is another way,” he said slowly, the idea taking more definite shape in his mind. “It comes with its own share of risks, but…”

      Kevin shifted his weight. “You’re making me nervous, friend. You’re already in this thing over your head.”

      “Then I’d better start swimming.” Thad gave Kevin a rueful smile and snapped off his computer. “And I think I just figured out how.”

      Kevin groaned. “God, Thad, tell me it’s the backstroke.”

      “Not even close.”