Page 55 of His Best Friend's Baby

His warm weight settled, solid and comforting, across Jesse’s bare skin.

“Just don’t fart,” he told the old dog.

Jesse realized that what was happening to him right now was normal. Real life. Nieces and family dinners and stolen kisses with beautiful blondes in kitchens. These things happened every day to humans around the world.

And it felt so good.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SHE’D MADE A MISTAKE. That much was clear. Coming to Agnes and Ron had put Julia smack-dab in the middle of a web, sticky and terrible. But she couldn’t get out. She had nowhere to go. No car. No money. A job that started in a few days.

“So,” Ron said, as he cut his pot roast into small pieces. He watched her over his glasses, those grandfatherly eyes not nearly as kind and welcoming as they’d been three weeks ago. “I hear congrats are in order. Lawshaw is a wonderful community college.”

I’m an adult, she told herself. Time to act like one.

“I am not going to school,” she finally said, sounding like a rebellious teenager. She looked up from the salad she’d been pushing around her plate and set down her fork. “I’ve gotten a job and I’m going to make some money so Ben and I can move out.”

The words fell like bombs in the still air. Ron also set his fork down. Agnes pressed her napkin to lips and made some excuse to go to the kitchen.

“Is this your gratitude?” Ron asked.

“I am grateful, very grateful, Ron. You can’t imagine what your hospitality has meant to us—”

“Well, this is a terrible way to show it.”

Julia suddenly saw Mitch’s childhood played out in front of her. His parents had created a liar—a man who constantly took the path of least resistance to avoid this burden of guilt, this responsibility of pleasing two people with a narrow rigid view of the world. And Agnes and Ron had no idea. They were blind to what they’d done to Mitch, what they’d made of him.

She thought of Ben, sleeping upstairs, and promised never to force her expectations upon him. Mitch’s son would have no idea what it was like to be Mitch.

“Ron, my son and I need to get settled. I am a grown woman and I cannot take advantage of your kindness any longer.”

What she really wanted to say was “I can’t live with your wife’s insanity any longer,” but that hardly would have served her purpose.

“We don’t feel you are taking advantage. We feel that this is an opportunity for us to get to know our grandson.”

“I’m not taking him away from you, I’m staying in town. I just need to get an apartment closer to work—”

“What work?” Agnes asked, having returned from the kitchen in time to catch the last of Julia’s words.

Julia took a deep breath, steeled herself for the firestorm of disapproval. “Petro.”

“The truck stop?” Agnes gasped.

“I’m waiting tables. I got a few morning shifts and—”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Julia.” Ron’s voice, pitched somewhere between pity and condescension, lit the fuse on her dormant temper.

“I know exactly what I am doing, Ron. I am trying to make a home for my son. I am trying to pay off Mitch’s astronomical gambling debts and I am trying to get on with my life.”

“You never loved Mitch,” Agnes spat. “You never—”

“You’re wrong, Agnes. Mitch never loved me,” Julia yelled. “Mitch never loved anyone. He didn’t have it in him.”

“You’re lying,” Agnes cried.

“How would you know—”

“Calm down, both of you. Before you say something you regret.” Ron’s voice cut through the haze of anger that surrounded Julia. “You’re getting worked up.”

Yes, she thought. Finally, I am getting worked up. Her hands trembled but she felt so strong. Ready to take on any comers. She felt ready to beat back these false memories of Mitch.

“I think perhaps maybe we’d all better take a breath,” Ron said. “We understand your desire to move on. To make a home. We are gratified that you want to do that near us.”

It’s not like I had much choice, she thought. She could have moved anywhere in the world and been alone, or she could have come here and had some kind of support.

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