Page 11 of His Best Friend's Baby

‘I’m eating for two,’ she reminded him, but the moment was somewhat spoiled when she remembered the steak meal he’d abandoned in Wirralong last year.

‘By the way, Seth,’ she said, needing to address that niggle on her conscience. ‘I really do want to apologise for the way I landed on you last year with my crazy IVF scheme. I know I went about it like a bull at a gate, just charging in, not even trying to see things from your point of view.’

Seth accepted this with a slight nod. ‘And then I overreacted.’

‘I’m sure you were justified,’ Polly replied, even though Seth’s departure had been the most hugely embarrassing moment of her life, a humiliation she’d relived and squirmed over for weeks afterwards.

‘But anyway, the shoe’s on the other foot tonight,’ he said.

Polly frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I have a proposition to put to you.’

*

Seth suppressed anurge to sigh as Polly’s relaxed smile was swiftly replaced by another anxious frown. She’d been poised to slice into her empanada, but now she set down her knife and fork.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d scare her off.

And maybe his idea was crazy. Maybe he should back right off now—just buy Polly this meal and wish her all the best. After all, she wouldn’t welcome his interference.

But this was Polly. Once upon a time they’d been best friends, and despite her absence for all those years, Seth still felt a weird, almost inescapable connection. Polly had always been frustrating and stubborn. But she’d also been incredibly bright—way better at maths and physics than Seth had ever been.

When they were young, he’d found her difference from the other girls intriguing. She’d certainly never been boring. And she’d always had the most amazing eyes. Even with the glasses.

Tonight she’d taken the glasses off and she was wearing mascara and some kind of smoky shading, and Seth couldn’t stop staring at the way her blue eyes sparkled…

‘A proposition? What is this, Seth?’ she asked tightly. ‘You may as well spill. No point in pussyfooting about.’

The pussyfooting criticism rankled, but Polly would know that and Seth rose above it.

‘It’s only a suggestion,’ he said, speaking quietly, as he might to a frightened horse. ‘Nothing drastic. I just figured you’ve had a difficult few months and you could do with a break—a chance to get out of town, even if it’s only for a weekend.’

‘To Wirralong?’ Polly still didn’t look too happy.

Seth gave a shrug that he hoped came across as more casual than he felt. He couldn’t exactly admit that her current circumstances had bothered the hell out of him and he felt he had to do something—anything—to give her a break.

Hell, she might even be reminded of the benefits of living in a country town. She worked in IT after all, so she could work from home and rentals had to be cheaper in Wirralong.

‘Wirralong’s as good a place as any,’ he said. ‘It’s certainly a change from Melbourne.’ As Seth said this, he was remembering how enthusiastically Polly had embraced their Wirralong lifestyle all those years ago, when they’d ridden their bikes for miles and miles into the countryside, and they’d taken long rambles together down by the creek.

Too easily, he was remembering the time they’d found a fallen gum tree branch with a nest of native bees down by the creek. Seth might have simply raided the nest for the honey, but Polly had hurried off to research native bees. The next day she’d made him haul the branch into her backyard and stake it up next to the flowering melaleucas that the bees apparently loved. The bees had flourished and so had the garden and they’d even harvested some of the honey.

And back in those days, Polly had also been an avid Wirralong supporter. She’d cheered louder than just about anyone for the local AFL team.

Seth found it damned hard to reconcile the Polly he’d known then with the worried woman he’d found today, skulking in that poky flat.

‘There’d be accommodation ready and waiting,’ he told her.

‘At your place? The flat?’

‘Sure. Is that a problem?’

‘I don’t know. I—’ Polly pressed her lips together, as if she needed to clamp down on whatever she’d been about to say. Then she shook her head. ‘I’m not your responsibility, Seth. I—I don’t need charity.’

Seth almost swore. Hadn’t he known that her pride would get in the way? He shouldn’t have started this. But she was pregnant, damn it, and if he’d played things her way, the baby she was carrying might have been his. And she was in trouble. ‘This isn’t charity,’ he said patiently. ‘It’s friendship—for old times’ sake.’

Polly sat very still, frowning, shoulders stiff. It was only after what felt like an age to Seth that her shoulders finally relaxed and she let out a little huff of breath. She nodded. ‘All right,’ she said softly and then, more graciously, ‘Thank you. But I don’t expect you to go to any trouble.’

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