Page 80 of Someone Just Like You

Jerry looked at her with sad eyes, reminding me of Yogi when Jude said that playtime was over. “What about the pizza?” He slid his gaze to me and did a double take as if finallyseeingme. “Whoa. What’s wrong? What happened? Does Jude know?”

I mumbled, “Jude knows.”

Esther squeezed his bicep. “Go get dressed. I’ll make you a to-go bag for the pizza.”

“Or I can walk around the block until you’re finished and come back.” The sad-puppy-in-boxer-shorts pouty face had returned.

I pressed my fist to my mouth. The comic relief waseverythingright now.

Esther pointed to her bedroom. “Go!”

Jerry scurried away.

When we were alone, Esther widened her eyes at me as if to say, “Well?”

“Later.” I pointed in the direction of her bedroom.

“Understood,” she said, flicking her bangs. “Jerry! How long does it take to put your legs through pants?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Jerry shuffled into the living room with this shirt untucked, his shoes untied, and his face red from exertion. When he reached the front door, he turned around and cast a lingering gaze at Esther. “Thanks for…um…will you call me?”

Sympathy curled around my heart. Esther was a man-eater and Jerry was…Jerry.

He turned to go.

“Wait!” Esther jogged to the door.

Jerry turned around.

I watched the exchange with interest.

Esther grabbed him by the collar and planted a kiss on his lips. Then she slapped him on the ass. “Now go.” She locked the door and faced me. “Why are you staring at me like the world turned upside down?”

I blinked at her. “Hasn’t it? What is happening?”

The apples of her cheeks turned pink.

“First she giggled, then she blushed, and then the earth exploded.”

“Fuck off.” She laughed. “We’ll get to me later. You first. Just let me put on pants.”

“Please do.”

Not long after, I curled on one corner of her red leather couch with Poppy dozing on the arm and caught her up. “I know I initiated it by asking about the binder when, really, I was just upset about Michael, but then Jude started yelling at me like what I did for him—something meant to be nurturing—was an insult to his very being. That I was a nag who was disappointed in his level of adulting. And then he made fun of my personality again…like he used to. He said all my planning did was make me miserable. He called me a bore! What’s so wrong with planning for my future?Ourfuture? Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to plan forhisfuture without asking, but it’s certainly not a crime worthy of his level of anger.”

Esther took a bite of pizza. She’d offered me a slice, but I wasn’t hungry. “Is he right on any level? If he never follows through with the restaurant, would you be okay marrying a bartender or having one as the father of your children?”

“Whoa.” I sat up straight. “Who’s talking marriage and kids? We haven’t even been together three months.” I closed my eyes and imagined. Maybe we’d have a double-backyard wedding. We could have the ceremony at the Starks’ and the reception at my childhood home. I didn’t need anything fancy.

“Molly!”

I opened my eyes.

She squinted at me. “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere.” I coughed. “The answer is yes, I’d be more than okay with it. I swear it wasn’t about that. I only wanted to help make his dream a reality. I thought I was being selfless and sweet, trying to make him happy.” I shared what my mom had told me about the little things she and my dad used to do for each other.

“Is there some truth to what he said, though? About your plans? Youhavecomplained about your job a lot lately. Are you staying because leaving doesn’t fit into your plans? The way you described your lunch with Rosaria…I was almost jealous of how well you bonded. She’d be the ideal boss for you. Is changing the plan such a terrible idea if it means you’ll be happier?”

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