Page 75 of His Best Friend's Baby

That night, over dinner Julia shared every glowing detail about her day. They put Ben to bed, then made love. Jesse never once mentioned Chris, San Diego or leaving. If he didn’t think, if he just let himself feel, then San Diego and Chris didn’t even exist.

And he liked—no, needed—it that way.

THE NEXT DAY, Jesse headed to the lumberyard looking for roofing materials. He could get the basic green/gray asphalt tiles for next to nothing, but for some reason he couldn’t walk past the cedar shake. It smelled so good on its pallets and he could picture how nice that yellow house would look with the wooden tiles.

Mom would have loved that.

It would take about double the time and work to install the cedar, which was ludicrous considering he needed to get to San Diego. But, he reasoned with himself, the wood roof would net a higher price when he sold the house, so the effort would be worth it.

He’d told Julia he was leaving. Maybe not last night as he’d intended, but she knew that, had known from the beginning. He simply had to get to the leaving part.

Still, Julia didn’t have the money for a place of her own. She seemed so fragile, so…in need despite all the strides to independence she’d taken. His sense of responsibility wouldn’t let him walk away from her right now.

Bullshit, the voice of reality said. You just can’t walk away from her. At least have the balls to admit it.

A teenager with bad skin approached him. “Can I help you?”

“I’ll take three flats of the cedar,” he said and walked away before he could change his mind.

“Delivered?”

“I can take them today.” No time like the present to get started on this folly.

Later that afternoon, Jesse pushed himself off his knees and braced himself against the chimney that wasn’t attached to any fireplace. He stretched out some of the kinks in his back and wondered if he should bite the bullet and buy one of those compression hammer guns. It would make his life so damn much easier.

“Excuse me.”

Jesse ignored the voice and picked up his hammer, set another row of nails in between his teeth and bent back to work.

“Excuse me! You, up on the roof.”

Jesse peered over the eaves to see a guy wearing a suit and tie, standing beside a fancy SUV.

“What?” he asked, spitting the nails back into his hand.

“Are you a roofer?”

Jesse nearly laughed. “Currently.”

“Great. Do you have a card or something? A phone number?” The guy walked into the yard and Jesse heard Wain on the porch start barking. The guy took a quick step back to the sidewalk.

Good dog.

“I’m not in business. I’m just doing my own roof.” Jesse shrugged.

“Oh, man. I’ve got this leak and I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. Do you think you could take a look?”

Jesse blinked, taken aback by the stranger’s boldness.

“I’m over on Cherry Avenue. It wouldn’t take five minutes.”

“Sure,” Jesse finally said, surprised by his capitulation. The guy’s face lit up in relief and gratitude and Jesse smiled. “I’ll just hop down and wash my hands,” he said.

JULIA CHECKED HER WATCH. Again. It was her third day of work and she was going to be late. It was ten minutes before six and still no sign of Amanda. She now realized how stupid it was that her whole schedule hinged on the timeliness of a sixteen-year-old girl. The milky pink light of predawn slid in the windows she checked as she paced.

No truck. Three steps. No Amanda. Three steps. I’m gonna lose this job. Three steps.

She was exhausted from her late night, from the series of late nights she’d been having. Each night after they put Ben to bed they made love for hours. And they talked about making love. And they laughed about what they talked about and then they made love again.

Her body ached in ways she’d forgotten she could ache.

She smiled despite her stress and her weariness. Changes in her life came like earthquakes. Meeting Mitch, getting pregnant, getting married and moving to Germany. Mitch dying. She moved from one shifting plate to the next and waited for the next disaster to strike.

But this move—across the neighborhood under her own power with nothing but her son and what she could carry—felt different. Hope had settled into this little house. She could see it, feel it, taste it. And she knew Jesse could feel it, too. She saw it in the way he looked at her, watched her, cared for Ben.

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