Molly O'Keefe - His Best Friend's Baby

None of them meant anything .

Julia wiped Ben’s face, holding his head still so she could get the cereal from under his chin, and pulled him out of the makeshift high chair she’d rigged on the kitchen counter .

She filled his sippy cup with juice and water and walked behind him as he toddled over to the table she’d set up next to the only window in the apartment that let in the morning light .

She sat in her chair and Ben tried to pull himself up into her lap .

“Up you go,” she whispered, giving him a boost .

He repeated the tone of her voice, if not her exact words .

She had a few toys on the table and he played while she rested her chin on his head and looked out the window to the street of duplicate houses, covered in Christmas lights and snow that made up the family housing on the barracks .

Houses filled with women just like her. Alone. Lonely. Worried half the time. Scared the other half. They filled their time with book groups and sewing circles, coffee klatches and grief- counseling sessions .

She went, dragging Ben and bad pasta salad, wearing the mask of a woman still in love with her husband. She wore that mask until she thought she’d scream .

She rested her head against the window .

“Jesse,” Ben whispered and her heart squeezed tight at the mention of the handsome stranger her husband had brought home last night. It had been a surprise, not just Jesse, but Mitch’s appearance as well. She’d had no notice of their leave. No chance to prepare herself .

Not that she could have .

Not for Jesse Filmore.

He’d walked into her home, he’d shaken her hand, he’d smiled at her, played with her son . He’d even gone so far as to compliment her spaghetti and she knew she’d found the very limit to her foolish heart .

She’d watched him all night from the corner of her eye, from beneath her lashes like some lovesick teenager .

Maybe that’s what I am.

Maybe that’s what this feeling is.

He was a good man—it was the clearest thing she’d ever seen. As real as the sun behind the window. He’d walked into the room and she’d known him. Known him as though she’d been beside him his whole life. Jesse was the kind of man she’d imagined Mitch to be. The kind of man she wanted Mitch to be and it burned her like acid to have him in her house .

“Jesse,” Ben said louder and Julia turned finally to shush him, only to find Jesse standing in the doorway to the kitchen. A bright and dark angel brought into her life to remind her of the mistakes she’d made, of the things she’d never have .

His black eyes were a hot touch on her face .

She opened her mouth, but there was nothing to say. No empty chatter in her head to fill up this moment. She wanted to stay this way with this man’s eyes on her—intense and dark and so knowing she felt naked .

Ben scrambled off her lap and ran past Jesse into the TV room .

“There’s…” Her mouth was sticky, dry. But before she could try to finish her sentence Jesse crossed the kitchen in three steps, stopping only when he was right in front of her. Less than a foot away. She could have reached out to touch the hem of his gray T-shirt .

You’re married, she told herself—a stupid reminder of the vows she’d taken, binding herself to a man who had never meant them .

Jesse crouched in front of her, until his face was level with hers .

She grasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles went white .

“You deserve better,” Jesse whispered, and her lips parted on a broken breath. He reached out and his fingers, the very tips of them, brushed her face in a nearly imperceptible touch. Her cheek and the curve of her jaw. As though she were diamonds and gold to him. Precious .

She shut her eyes and hated herself for wanting him so much .

Jesse stood, jammed his fingers through his short military hair as if he wished he could pull it out .

“I can’t stay here,” he said .

Julia didn’t stop him and when she heard her front door click shut the tattered, threadbare life she’d managed to hold together split at the seams, falling in terrible ruin around her .

Julia closed her eyes wishing the memory away. Wishing it on another person. She’d arrived in New Springs looking for a family, to set down roots…and finding Jesse was like a dream come true. She was so close to all she ever wanted, only to have it ripped away.

Don’t come back here .

It’s because you expect other people to make you happy . Mitch’s voice revealed her worst fears about herself, the bitter truth she’d always suspected but never wanted to admit. You expect other people to do everything for you. You’re useless. You’re worse than useless .

The pain burrowed into her chest and made a home in the soft tissue surrounding her heart. She’d thought she was tougher than this, that Mitch’s lies and infidelity had turned her cold and hard. But she was wrong. That pain was nothing compared to what she felt right now.

Jesse’s rejection ruined her.

Such a fool. Such a sucker .

She rolled to her side and punched her pillow, trying to get comfortable. The wonderful mattress that had cradled her last night now seemed too soft. Lumpy in places. Hard in others.

You’re impossible to please. You want too much .

Ben sighed, murmured something in his sleep and rolled toward her, curving himself into her body, into that little space against her chest that had been made for him.

She had to get her act together. She had to make a life for her son. She couldn’t expect other people to help her with this anymore.

“No more,” she whispered.

What are you gonna do? Mitch’s voice asked and she could practically see his sneer, the snide superiority in his eyes that had made her feel two inches tall for most of her married life. Live off my folks? Sleep with my best friend? You heard him, he’s sorry for that morning. It was a mistake—

“No more!” she said, louder this time to shut up the voices in her head. To convince herself that she meant it.

Things were going to change.

She was going to get a job. Tomorrow. And she’d only stay with the Adamses as long as was absolutely necessary, until she’d paid off the last of Mitch’s debts and could save some money for a place of her own.

And she’d stay away from Jesse—just as he’d asked. She’d remove her heart, set it someplace else where she couldn’t feel its pain.

JESSE DIDN’T SLEEP. He was no fool, he knew the nightmares waited on the other side of consciousness. And frankly, tonight he had no taste for fire and the crash and Mitch’s knowing eyes.

He sat on the porch for a good long time, his eyes open and the image of Julia—sitting so close…right there…within arm’s reach—burned into his retinas.