His Best Friend's Baby

The silence built like a wall between them. Brick by brick, until he wasn’t even sure he could see her.

Finally she stood, swiped her hands over her butt and took a step toward the shadows of the lawn.

“Good night, Jesse.” She took another step, all but disappearing in the dark. “I’m so glad you’re here. I never expected a friend—”

“We’re not friends, Julia,” he said, from his side of the wall of silence and lies. “Don’t come back.”

JULIA DIDN’T SLEEP WELL. She was plagued by Jesse’s ravaged face and the sharp-fanged nightmares Mitch’s old room seemed to spark.

She had to put Mitch’s prom picture facedown in the hopes that she’d stop seeing it when she shut her eyes. But it was useless, Mitch’s ghost lived in this room, lived in these quiet moments of doubt that came at night. He mocked her and reminded her of how much she’d fallen out of love with him. Of how badly she’d wished he’d been more like Jesse.

In fact, that night in Germany with Jesse and Mitch, she’d wished he was Jesse.

And to make it all worse, there was nothing she could do to shake loose Jesse’s words. They ran on a loop whether her eyes were closed or not.

I’m sorry.

She’d carried the memory of that morning in Germany with Jesse in her heart for months. She’d lived on it when food tasted like dirt. She’d breathed it through Mitch’s funeral and through all the long nights.

And he was sorry. Sorry it ever happened.

We’re not friends. Don’t come back.

She flopped over on her back and stared up at the ceiling where the shadows of the maple branches danced and that morning rushed back to her in painful detail….

“All done,” Julia whispered to Ben. She heldout her hands as if to prove she wasn’t holdinganymore puréed peaches. “All gone.”

Ben mimicked her, shouting her words backto her in his gibberish.

“Sh,” she whispered. “We have to be quiet.Daddy and Jesse are sleeping.”

Jesse Filmore—the much-boasted-aboutfriend of Mitch’s youth—slept in the livingroom, draped over the too-small couch. AndMitch slept on in the bedroom, smelling slightlyof the wine he’d drank last night and the uncomfortable,lousy sex he’d attempted beforedawn. He’d come to bed late, full of drunkenapologies and tears. There’d been another girl.A reporter or a contractor or something. She’dmeant nothing, he swore.

None of them meant anything.

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

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

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

“Up you go,” she whispered, giving him aboost.

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

She had a few toys on the table and he playedwhile she rested her chin on his head andlooked out the window to the street of duplicatehouses, covered in Christmas lights and snowthat made up the family housing on thebarracks.

Houses filled with women just like her. Alone.Lonely. Worried half the time. Scared the otherhalf. They filled their time with book groupsand 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 withher husband. She wore that mask until shethought she’d scream.

She rested her head against the window.

“Jesse,” Ben whispered and her heartsqueezed tight at the mention of the handsomestranger her husband had brought home lastnight. It had been a surprise, not just Jesse, butMitch’s appearance as well. She’d had no noticeof 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 herhand, he’d smiled at her, played with her son. He’d even gone so far as to compliment herspaghetti and she knew she’d found the verylimit to her foolish heart.

She’d watched him all night from the cornerof her eye, from beneath her lashes like somelovesick teenager.

Maybe that’s what I am.

Maybe that’s what this feeling is.

He was a good man—it was the clearestthing she’d ever seen. As real as the sun behindthe window. He’d walked into the room andshe’d known him. Known him as though she’dbeen beside him his whole life. Jesse was thekind of man she’d imagined Mitch to be. Thekind of man she wanted Mitch to be and itburned her like acid to have him in her house.

“Jesse,” Ben said louder and Julia turnedfinally to shush him, only to find Jessestanding in the doorway to the kitchen. Abright and dark angel brought into her life toremind her of the mistakes she’d made, of thethings she’d never have.

His black eyes were a hot touch on her face.

She opened her mouth, but there was nothingto say. No empty chatter in her head to fill upthis moment. She wanted to stay this way withthis man’s eyes on her—intense and dark andso knowing she felt naked.

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

“There’s…” Her mouth was sticky, dry. Butbefore she could try to finish her sentence Jessecrossed the kitchen in three steps, stopping onlywhen he was right in front of her. Less than afoot away. She could have reached out to touchthe hem of his gray T-shirt.

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

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

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

“You deserve better,” Jesse whispered, andher lips parted on a broken breath. He reachedout and his fingers, the very tips of them, brushedher face in a nearly imperceptible touch. Hercheek and the curve of her jaw. As though shewere diamonds and gold to him. Precious.

She shut her eyes and hated herself forwanting him so much.

Jesse stood, jammed his fingers through hisshort military hair as if he wished he couldpull it out.

“I can’t stay here,” he said.

Julia didn’t stop him and when she heard herfront door click shut the tattered, threadbarelife she’d managed to hold together split at theseams, 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.