Page 8 of With This Wish

“Today’s breakfast meeting with your father has been pushed to Friday, your eleven o’clock had been moved up to nine, and your mother called and wants to do lunch with you later today or tomorrow if possible.” I turn to ask him a question, but like the amazingly intuitive assistant he is, he already has an answer for me and raises his hand to stave off my inquiry. “I already checked and tomorrow will give you more time with your mother, but today will get you into that little bistro down the street that has that Wednesday special you love so much.”

I huff a breath. I do eat that same special every Wednesday, but the smoked salmon and grilled vegetables is starting to get old. Much like my whole life. It doesn’t take long for me to decide. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow,” I tell my assistant, watching his eyes raise in surprise at my changing up the routine. My now empty mug is handed off to Kendall as we head into my office, and I can finally remove my jacket and hang it up on the coatrack near the door. Taking a seat in my plush leather office chair, I pause halfway down when I hear the voice of my friend coming from the open doorway.

“Kendall,” Billie purrs at my assistant. I sit in my chair, looking up just in time to see her making a pouty face in his direction. “Could you be a dear and get me a latte?”

“Wow. I’m surprised to see you in the office before noon. And don’t you have your own assistant?” he sasses, giving her a knowing look. That kind of impertinence would usually be frowned upon, but Kendall is indispensable and Billie almost always has it coming.

Billie enters the office and flops into one of the two chairs across from me with a heavy sigh. “Ugh, she hates me. I’m afraid she’ll spit in it.” Billie clasps her hands together and gives Kendall another pleading look. “Please, Kenny-poo.”

My assistant blows out a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll do it if you promise never to call me Kenny-poo again,” he says with a wry smile.

Billie drops her needy pretense and extends a hand. “Deal,” she exclaims. The two shake hands before my assistant is off to gather her coffee order, and I just shake my head in response.

“Your assistant doesn’t hate you, Billie. I think she’s just tired of having to manage the party hotline,” I tell her, logging onto the computer to start my day. Billie’s direct line is commonly referred to as the “party hotline” since she’s a client liaison and even though her job mostly ends after the client has signed with us, she’s constantly getting calls to set up more events and parties. She’s always been popular, and it seems that hasn’t faded one bit as the years have passed.

“Whatever,” she says. She sweeps the end of her high ponytail off her shoulder before picking at the French manicure on her fingernails. “It’s not my fault I know how to show people a good time.” She waggles her eyebrows and I roll my eyes at her, but smile nonetheless. “Speaking of … what are we doing for your birthday this weekend? I know we had to put it off a week since you had that big trip to meet a client and were quote ‘too tired to do anything,’ but I figured we could make up for it Saturday night. I do have some ideas that may or may not revolve around us attending the opening of a new nightclub downtown, but as I am such a generous friend, I’ll leave the ultimate decision up to you since it’s your big three-oh and all.”

What I want more than anything is to stay at home and let the day pass without any fanfare. No celebration, no other people to witness my misery, despite the fact that I’m exactly where I planned to be at thirty years old. My career is going well, I make a good amount of money and am well respected in the business community, and I’ve even looked at some houses, thinking maybe I could buy one in the next year or so. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, but I’m not the least bit happy. Why would I bother buying a house when there won’t be anyone living in it but me? I’m nowhere near starting a family. Family. The small charm Maya wore around her neck comes to mind and I smile wistfully. A house with her and a couple of kids sounds nice right now.

“Oh, no.” The words rush from Billie’s mouth, and when I look at her I see a very concerned look on her pinched face. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

I nod, not bothering to lie to my best friend. She would see through it anyway. “Yeah,” I choke out, averting my eyes so Billie can’t see just how deep the longing goes, but she sees through me.

Billie stares at me thoughtfully for a moment before leaning forward, her slender forearms resting on her knees. “I know what we’re doing for your birthday,” she announces. Two seconds later, she’s standing up and clapping her hands gleefully as she looks at me.

“What’s that?” I ask, almost afraid of what she’s thinking.

A mischievous smile plays across her face. “Pack your bags, friend. We’re going on a road trip.”

“Billie…” I warn. You don’t have to be psychic to know exactly where she’s thinking about going. “We can’t.” Why not? You know you want to go. That ever-present voice is back and even more demanding than before. There is absolutely nothing holding me back except some stupid need to adhere to a plan my heart no longer cares to follow.

Her finger wags at me and she moves to the door. “We absolutely can. Besides, you have to come along. Who knows what kind of trouble I’ll cause if you aren’t there to rein me in?” With those ominous words, she exits, snagging her latte from my assistant before walking away.

As much as I fear what Billie would do on her own, that won’t be the reason I go with her. As I spin in my chair and peer out the window, getting a stunning view of the snow-covered Rocky Mountains, I smile. I know what lies beyond the peaks, and maybe my pushy best friend is just the excuse I need to get me there. In three days, I’ll be back in Starlight Lake and seeing Maya again. The thought of having her right there next to me has my body instantly thrumming with excitement. I hope the magic we experienced last time we were together isn’t gone completely. If she’s thought about me even a fraction as much as I’ve thought about her, there’s no way it could be.

Chapter Seven

Maya

Rain patters on the window of our two-story home, and a smile of absolute contentment comes across my face as I snuggle in closer to my husband. Jake stirs slightly in his sleep, but doesn’t wake, simply wrapping his strong arm around me and drawing me closer to his chest before returning to whatever dream has put a blissful expression on his face. Maybe he’s dreaming of our life together. I know I often do. It almost seems too good to be true—this life, this family we’ve created together. Our little boy is still sleeping, thank goodness, so I get a few more uninterrupted minutes with the man I love. As I rest my head against Jake’s chest, I thank my lucky stars that he never left that day three years ago. That he decided to throw caution to the wind and stay here with me, with us. “Mommy,” a small voice calls to me, and I groan lightly. I want just a few more minutes alone with my man before our little love comes barreling in. “Mommy, Mommy.”

****

“Mommy.” JJ’s sweet voice pulls me out of my dream and back to reality, a reality without Jake. As much as I enjoyed my dream life, my real one isn’t so bad either. For one, it has this kid, the most adorable, tender-hearted little boy a mom could ask for. He’s just over two, and fingers crossed, we haven’t run into any “terrible two’s” situations just yet. Even if they were to happen, I’m sure we’ll take it all in stride. “Mommy,” he says again. His small hand is patting my cheek lightly, and I stifle my smile, pretending to still be asleep. Barely peeling one eye open, I wait until my little guy looks away before popping up and tossing him on the bedsheets, tickling his ribs and blowing raspberries on his tummy until he’s giggling so hard I’m almost positive he just soiled his diaper.

“Uh-oh, Mommy,” he says to me. His eyes go wide and his nose scrunches up adorably. “Poo-poo.”

One whiff of the pungent air around us confirms what he’s telling me. “Then I guess we better get you a new diaper before breakfast because I know Caju won’t want to be smelling this while he eats his breakfast.” Caju is the closest my son can get to saying Carter. It’s cute, and Carter doesn’t mind one bit, so we all kind of refer to him as that.

My brother has been my greatest source of support over the last three years. He could have stayed wrapped up in his grief, but instead he pushed through it to be there for me. He helped me through my pregnancy, came to the hospital with me when JJ was born, and watches and plays with his nephew every chance he can get. Carter’s also been there to give me a hug and provide a shoulder to cry on every time I’ve felt like the worst mom on the planet, thought about how much nicer and easier it would be to raise a child with another parent, or when I missed Jake too much and hated that he was missing so many precious moments with his son.

While I was pregnant with JJ, most of my time was spent getting ready for his arrival, but I also spent a good chunk of time trying to find Jake. It never amounted to much since I had nothing to go on, but I had to try. I even went so far as to look into getting a private eye to track him down, if nothing else, so that he would know he had a child out in the world, but the few I spoke to said too much time had passed and there was too little to go on. One guy said he could probably find something, but the cost was too high. As much as I wanted to dig into my savings and spend it, I knew I would need that money for my little boy. Priorities shift when you have a child, and maybe I made the wrong decision, but I try my best not to regret it. Sometimes I wonder if the connection I felt with Jake was as strong on his end as it was on mine. After all, he knows where I work and live, so if he really wanted to find me, find us, he could. Since we planned for one night, I can only assume he’s sticking to that.

While Jake and I were sharing more about ourselves that night, he mentioned how much planning and routine had been a big part of his life, how important it was to him to honor commitments he made to himself and his father. At the time, I thought I understood what he talking about, but not to the extent I do now. With JJ, I need to be a little more structured or he goes bonkers. We eat around the same time each day and we have a bedtime routine, but other than that it’s still a little flexible because with kids, it must be. JJ keeps me on my toes, but I wouldn’t trade my little boy for anything.

“Mommy,” JJ calls, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand.

“Right.” My arms wrap around his little body and I pick him up, walking him over to the changing pad on top of my dresser. “Okay, little man. Let’s freshen you up a bit.” After thousands of diaper changes, this is old hat, so it doesn’t take me too long to swap out his soiled diaper, toss it in the bin, and get him a new one. “Want to pick out your outfit for today?”

---