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Chapter FourteenPast"The phone number of my sister and brother-in-law?" Farah repeated, obviously confused at Maan's request. "Why?"
Maan doubted that confessing his ache to have a child was appropriate right now. "They adopted their son, right? Um, my . . . friend has some questions about the adoption process." There. Farah didn't need to know that Maan was actually the "friend."
"Oh," said Farah. "Yeah, sure. They also considered using a surrogate mother before they decided on adoption. Your friend can ask about that, too, if he wants."
Maan leaned back against his sheets, his mind now swimming with possibility.
---
Seated in front of his computer, Maan rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through various search results. After hanging up with Farah, he had navigated to a search engine and was searching for adoption services and surrogacy clinics around the area.
Aside from the "old fashioned" way, Maan knew little about the alternative methods to have a child. All he knew was that he wanted to raise a baby on his own. He didn't even want to know the mother's identity, if possible. No need for her to be involved whatsoever.
All women were devious and manipulative, after all. Really, he was doing his future child a favor. At least his son or daughter wouldn't have to worry about the mother leaving, like his had, or otherwise wreaking havoc.
After a few more minutes of searching, Maan stumbled across a website entitled "Commercial Reproduction Clinic." It was an official-looking page with a professional logo, and provided very general information about the process of surrogacy. "Come and visit personally for more information," the site urged.
The address, noted at the bottom of the page, revealed that the clinic was close by -- closer than any other institution Maan had read about so far, which was certainly convenient. Maan hesitated for a moment, then scribbled down the address. He would go first thing tomorrow.
---
Although the website had indicated that the clinic was near Maan's flat, it was difficult to find. Hidden behind a cluster of tall office buildings, the clinic was a nondescript white structure that bore a tiny "C.R.C." sign on the door. Before he could change his mind, Maan walked inside.
The interior was clean, bright, and well-furnished. Maan spotted a female receptionist at a desk. A tall, balding man wearing a white physician's coat was at her side, flipping through a file folder.
"Uh, hi," Maan greeted, somewhat awkwardly. He glanced at the man's nametag, which read Dr. Mehta. "I'm Maan Singh Khurana. I wanted some information about your . . . services." Maan was suddenly acutely aware that he had no idea what he was doing.
"Sure." Dr. Mehta adjusted his glasses and smiled knowingly, as if he were used to encountering clueless visitors. "Come on back." He motioned with his folder to a corridor behind the reception desk.
Maan followed Dr. Mehta to a pristine office and took a seat opposite from the physician.
"Well, I suppose background information would be helpful," Dr. Mehta began, folding his hands on his desk. "We provide surrogacy services for people who are willing to pay a woman to be a surrogate mother for their child. We keep a list of potential surrogate mothers, along with their health information and so on."
"Why don't you say this on your website?" Maan asked bluntly.
"We prefer being low-key," Dr. Mehta replied. "In general, society has no problem when a woman is financially stable and is willing to be a surrogate mother simply to help a couple have a baby. But some people have an issue when a woman wants to be a surrogate mother just to earn money."
Dr. Mehta paused. "We facilitate the second type of service, and don't want to attract unwanted attention. We protect our surrogate mothers here, and many of them prefer to be anonymous."
"Oh." Maan ran his palms over his thighs, the information sinking in slowly. Anonymous? Hmm. . . .
"We match a person or couple that desperately wants a baby with a woman who is often in desperate need of money," Dr. Mehta continued. "Both sides are satisfied in the end."
"I think I might be interested in this." Maan exhaled slowly. "I'm single and I want to have a child through a surrogate mother -- a woman from your list, I guess, because I don't have anyone in particular in mind. I would want her to be one of the anonymous ones, though. To . . . protect her, and everything."
*Protect her?* Maan thought. *More like protect me.* He wanted the baby to be his alone. Deep down, in a place that he tried hard not to acknowledge, he also knew that he would somehow feel less guilty that he was raising the child alone if the mother were anonymous and couldn't be located.
"So, to confirm, you and the anonymous surrogate mother would be the genetic, biological parents of this child?" Dr. Mehta asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Yes." Maan hoped Dr. Mehta wouldn't inquire further. "I would obviously pay the mother her . . . fee, and anything extra she wants or needs. But her anonymity is very important to me. I don't want to -- I mean, I don't even have to see her."
Dr. Mehta leaned back from his desk. "Yes, our anonymous surrogates do want to fiercely guard their identities because, as I explained, they want to avoid unwelcome attention from the public or their families. I suppose we could arrange things so that you wouldn't have to see each other, although this clinic has never done that before. We would have to ask the mother for permission for that arrangement. We would also have to check into your health, background, all of that."
Maan nodded. "That's not a problem, Doctor. What would happen next?"
"After you give us your sample, the mother would be artificially inseminated." Dr. Mehta went on to explain that she would be monitored, and if she became pregnant with Maan's child, the clinic would proceed with daily observations that would be reported to Maan. Once the baby was born, it would be released to him, and Maan would be the sole parent.
Excitement, a foreign feeling for so long, soared through Maan. This would be the perfect arrangement. He thought back to Daadi's assurance that he would have a child of his very own one day. *Just have faith, my dear.*
For the first time in a long time, Maan grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Chapter FifteenPresentGeet stared up at the ceiling of Maan's guest bedroom. Although Maan had many, he had placed her in one on the second floor. Close to the study. He had also given her a flashlight.
She listened to the thud of the rain outside, which matched the rhythm of her racing heart. She thought back to all the visits she had made to the chapel, where she had lit more candles than she could now recall. Wishing, hoping for opportunity. And now it was almost here.
Geet suddenly remembered holding a sleeping Riya in her arms earlier that evening in the makeshift tent. How peaceful she had felt at that moment.
The polar opposite of the anxiety that was buzzing through her veins now.
Slowly peeling away the comforter, Geet swung her feet to the soft carpet below. She grabbed the flashlight from the nightstand and a pen and notepad from her purse. She tip-toed outside, holding her breath as she crept toward the study.
The door to the study was closed, but unlocked. Geet slinked inside and clicked on the flashlight, shining it toward a large chest of drawers against the wall. Where would she even start?
Geet randomly pulled open a drawer. She could see a set of binders with "Real Estate" on the spines. *If this is the "R" drawer, then "F" is probably a few drawers up,* she thought.
Her throat going dry for the second time that evening, Geet explored the other drawers until she found a row of binders titled "Finances." Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for one.
Geet flipped through the pages and immediately found what she was looking for. She scribbled down a string of digits on a page of her notepad. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart.
Which was why she hadn't heard the figure sneak up behind her. When a hand clamped down on her shoulder, Geet screamed.
She spun around. Maan. Staring at her with the proverbial daggers in his eyes.
As lightning flashed, Maan grabbed her forearm. "What are you doing?" he hissed loudly. "I was coming to check on you, and saw the study open." He felt disgusted that he had not only been in a semi-intimate environment with this woman just hours ago, but that he had considered hiring her as a babysitter.
Maan glanced down at the binder that Geet had opened, and the note she had scrawled. He instantly recognized the digits, and tightened his grip on her. "Why are you copying down my bank account number?" he demanded in disbelief. His gaze was so fierce that Geet actually felt pierced.
"You know this is a crime, right?" Maan snarled, his nostrils flaring. "Listen, Miss Geet. If you want my bank account number so that you can steal money from me, you better believe that --"
"I'm not trying to steal money from you, Professor," Geet said, tears now streaming down her face. This was it. She was so tired -- exhausted, really -- of running, of lying, of feeling guilty. It was time for the truth. "I wanted your bank number so that I could deposit money into your account . . . anonymously."
Maan reached for Geet's other arm and held it tightly. "I don't believe that for a second," he spat. "You're just saying that. It's practically impossible to wire someone money anonymously. That person can always be traced back. No, you're trying to steal from me, aren't you?" Even as he said the words, Maan could tell that Geet hadn't considered that an anonymous transfer could be traced. Her mouth dropped open, weariness filling her features.
"Fine," said Geet through her tears, sounding defeated. "Now that you've caught me, I can just write you a check, anyway."
"What are you talking about?!" Maan's face was clouded with anger and confusion. "Why are you trying to give me money? Are you insane?"
Geet swallowed hard. The thunder had reached a crescendo outside, and lightning lit up her tear-stained cheeks. "I wanted to return the money that you paid me. The money you paid me for being a surrogate and giving birth to our daughter Riya." She jerked her arms out of Maan's grasp, dropped her face in her hands, and wept.
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Thank you very much for reading!
Edited by kumari3 - 13 years ago
CID
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
195