Page 61 of His Best Friend's Baby

“Seventeen.” Almost.

“Well, you’re either thinking about a career in journalism, politics or extortion.”

“What’s extortion?”

“Good for you, kid, ask me your questions.”

“First, are you planning on writing a story on my…on Jesse Filmore.”

“Yes.”

Her lips twisted. “Hmm.” Not the best answer. She didn’t want to see Jesse hurt any more and she just knew a news story would kill him.

“I think my readers would be interested in how Jesse did everything, including risk his own life, in order to save me.”

That was better. Much better. Points to Caleb.

“Do you think he caused that crash? I mean, do you think he killed all those guys?”

Caleb sighed. “I know it’s hard to believe otherwise when it’s been speculated about all over the news.”

“Tell me about it,” she groused.

“But I have some information and I think it’s important I talk to Jesse before I write about it. I’ll be able to sit in a car in a few days and I want to see him.”

“You know how the crash happened?”

“Amanda, let me give you a lesson in journalism. A journalist never tells anyone what he does or doesn’t have in terms of information.”

“Makes sense,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

“All right, Caleb Gomez. I do have some information for you.” She gave him Jesse’s address and cell phone number.

“Wait,” Caleb said when they were about to hang up. “How is he? Jesse? Is he okay?”

She thought of his wrecked face and his bloody nose and the dead look in his eyes and the way he couldn’t even be in the same room as Julia.

“Caleb. I think the sooner you get here, the better.”

“I SHOULD BE BACK BY NOON,” Julia said for the third time. It was Saturday, her first morning of work and her first morning of Agnes Adams’s daycare, which made Julia feel a little twitchy. She kept remembering the story Jesse had told her about Mitch and the test and being kept awake for two days. And the stories he’d told her in the days since then.

She didn’t want Agnes to have that kind of influence over Ben, to harm him in the million ways she’d hurt Mitch.

Julia looked at her sweet little boy, who was covered in Cheerios and sliced bananas.

“Of course, it’s fine.” Agnes’s voice was cold but the hand that stroked Ben’s head was tender and the glances she saved for Ben were as sweet and grandmotherly as Julia could ever dream. “I am his grandmother after all.”

As long as she only hates me, she thought, tucking her uniform apron into her purse. As long as she never takes it out on Ben. “All right then.” She looked around to see if she was missing anything and, of course, wasn’t, since she didn’t have anything. “I’ll see you in five hours.”

She kissed her son, thought for a second of saying something that would kill the tension between her and Agnes, but in the end stayed silent. She always bent. She always gave in, took the high road. She wasn’t going to do it anymore.

She put her hand to the door and was nearly out it, before Agnes stopped her.

“Julia?”

“Yes.” She paused.

“I’m sorry,” Agnes said and Julia turned. “I am sorry for the things I said the other day.”

Julia nodded, stunned. “Me, too.”

She stepped out into the cool California morning and shut the door behind her.

She wanted to believe that Agnes was sincere, that she was truly regretful for the spiteful things she’d said, but Julia didn’t believe it for a minute.

The apology had seemed mechanical, manipulative, as insincere as Julia’s own.

The situation between them never going to get better.

THE WORK WAS PREDICTABLE. Familiar. Lots of coffee. Extra gravy. Seasoned waitresses who took their smoking breaks seriously and loved to talk at the coffee machines. Julia had forgotten how the slow times at restaurants created plenty of room for nearly instant camaraderie. Nothing to do but roll silverware and chat.

It wasn’t even an hour into her shift and she knew all about Lynn’s youngest son’s problems at school. And that Jodi’s ex-husband was getting married in a few weeks.

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