Page 53 of Run with Me

Mary and Jack had a beautiful,healthy baby boy. When Mary went into labor, she forgot all about her birth plan and forced Jack to hold her hand the entire time. The following week he could still barely move his fingers. Baby Cameron had Jack’s eyes and Mary’s smile. He inherited a perfect combination of his parents’ strongest and most beautiful features. Watching him open his eyes often made my heart race as I began to wonder what my baby girl would looklike.

I stayed with Mary during the day when Jack and Xavier went to their office, helping her with the baby, taking turns with the diaper changes and feeding times. It was wonderful watching Mary shift focus from an expectant mother to a true mother, where everything she did came so naturally to her. She gave Cameron his first bath on her own. He latched on perfectly each time she wanted to feed him, and he slept four hours at a time within the firstweek.

But just when I felt I could breathe again and maybe sneak into Pace, little Cameron decided to develop colic. My fast-approaching due date in mid-April was already adding unneeded pressure to thetrip.

Everything Mary thought she knew about babies disappeared. He wouldn’t stop crying. We changed Mary’s diet, massaged his little tummy, gently bent his knees to his mid-section so he could let go of the gasses, but nothing helped until one day I was drying my hair and a dejected Mary came into the bathroom. Cameron stopped his crying, and I turned off the hair dryer. He opened his mouth again, and I lowered the dryer to the counter.

“I think I’d rather hear that,” Mary said, pointing to the dryer and clicking it on. Cameron stopped crying, and Mary looked down to where he was cradled in herarms.

“One day you’ll have longer hair and we can dry it for you too, but we better let Auntie Jo get ready if we’re going to make it to church toady.”

Cameron was getting christened today, and I was going to be his godmother. I’d been wondering how Father Mark was going to like Cameron’s performance during mass and had been praying that the little one would finally get a break.

Mary flipped the dryer switch off, and Cameron started crying again. We looked at each other in puzzlement.

“Mary, I think he likes the noise.”

She turned the switch back on, and Cameron stopped crying. “I think you’re right. But we can’t take this to mass with us. Anna, what are we going todo?”

“Have faith, Mary. I’ve been praying, and I think Cameron will have a breakthrough.”

And so, as I sat that afternoon in church beside Cameron’s godfather, Xavier, I felt grateful that baby Cameron had stopped crying just before the mass. I was also grateful that John was continuing his prayers for my and our baby’s safety — even though he didn’t know about her. Would he hate me when I told him? Would he be upset that he hadn’t seen my stomachgrow?

It was still too dangerous to travel. Xavier had sent someone to check in on Pace, and Ben was still there. No matter how many times Xavier insisted that we should stay in New York, I objected. Today felt like the right time to bring up the trip again. Mary was managing well on her own, Cameron had a new toy, a hairdryer, which Mary had yet to figure out how to carry with her the entire time if she didn’t want to be confined to the apartment, and I wanted John to know that in a few short weeks he would be a father.

As I finished my prayer near the end of the mass, Xavier leaned over to me and whispered, “You look stunning.”

I felt my baby kick, but it must have been those bulls I’d once imagined running through my stomach because they stopped as soon as I remembered that I had the same feeling just before John kissed me. Not only that, but during the last trimester of my pregnancy, my hormones decided to wake something inside of me I had never felt before: a deep need for physical contact. I tossed and turned at night and ended up almost touching myself. One night, I managed to snuggle the body pillow so hard between my legs that rubbing against it became irresistible. And now, Xavier looking at me with that hunger and complimenting me each time I changed into a new outfit was complicating my already tangled web of emotions.

“Thank you,” I replied. “But keep quiet. The mass isn’t overyet.”

“Right.” I found his smirk both inappropriate and distracting. How did he manage to pull me into his world each time we spoke? He took my attention away from my problems, but while it was a wonderful temporary remedy for my stress, I knew that I’d have to face them sooner or later. Preferably, it would be sooner.

I helped Mary organize an intimate dinner at a local restaurant to celebrate Cameron’s baptism. We sat at a long table with a couple of friends of Jack’s and Xavier’s whom I hadn’t met before. During her pregnancy, Mary had mentioned that Jack came from a foster home with many kids. His parents had died in a car accident, and that was all I knew about him for the most part. Mary’s family lived in L.A., and her mom wasn’t feeling well enough to travel that far. Still, with the group of close friends they had, and now baby Cameron in their lives, I’d say they’d managed to create a beautiful family of theirown.

Dinner passed, and I felt my skin stretch around my navel. If I kept this up, I’d look nine months pregnant in no time. I was already having trouble seeing my toes. Xavier had painted them for me last night, right after a delectable foot massage, of course.

I frowned.

Each time I felt something good, whether physical or emotional, the feeling of guilt overwhelmed me. I wanted to share these happy moments with John more than anyone else, but he wasn’t here. I looked over at Xavier, who in the past four months had shown me more affection than I deserved. He was quickly becoming one of the most important men in my life, and I didn’t know how to control the feelings I was having. I appreciated his help, thoughtfulness, and care with all of my heart, but I didn’t know what it all meant.

“You’re blushing.”

Mary must have been watchingme.

“What?”

“I would give anything to know what you’re thinking about.”

I shook my head. If I knew what all this thinking I was doing meant, I would have explained it to myself.

“It’s okay, honey. This isn’t new to me. All women think about Xavier.” She rolled her eyes. Part of me thought that secretly Mary liked Xavier more than she could admit, but again, it was a brotherly love; while I thought of Xavier that way as well, that boundary was beginning to blur more eachday.

“He’s an amazingguy.”

“Heis.”

“Mary, can I ask you a question? Do you know what happened to hisson?”

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