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“I thought maybe I’d come help JT on Saturday, if you don’t mind.”
“No, I guess I don’t, but—” They reached the truck and Seth got the door for her.
“Oh.” Laura had never had a man hold a door for her before. Jay hadn’t done it, and she’d never expected him to. She was sure Seth was doing it simply because she was pregnant and needed help to climb into his monster of a truck.
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” she said as she got in the car.
SETH SAW LAURA’S SURPRISE. He might have blamed his mother for his good manners, but in reality, he didn’t mind doing things like opening doors for women, although he was generally of the opinion that women were just as capable as men. But Laura had to be almost as wide as she was tall. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but still, she’d have been hard-pressed to climb in the truck without assistance.
Moments later he was behind the steering wheel. “I hope I didn’t step on your toes, since some women take offense at a guy getting the door and…”
“My mother said, don’t take offense where no offense was intended.” Laura caught herself. “Well, she would have said that if she’d lived long enough to have those kind of talks with me.” She felt embarrassed. “I was nine when she died, and that was too young for conversations like that. But in my head, she gave me all kinds of sage advice as I grew older. I mean, I knew she wasn’t really there, but I felt better pretending, and most of her advice centered on being kind, so I figured it was all good.”
“That’s a shame, you losing your mom.”
“Hey, Dad was great. We made a solid team.”
Seth thought about it…he understood loss, but not to that extent. What Laura had gone through losing both her parents and a fiancé. Seth didn’t say anything more on the subject as he drove toward the high school.
“How about you?” she finally asked. “You told me you have five siblings, but how about your parents. Are you close?”
“We were once, but not anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Laura said softly.
For the first time since Allie died he admitted, “I am, too.”
“Is there any way to fix things?”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. “So, about Saturday?”
Laura was kind enough to let him change the subject. “Sure. I have a little less than a month until Bbog is born—”
“Bog?” he asked.
“Bbog. Two B’s. The night we found out we were pregnant, we referred to the baby as Baby-boy-or-girl. The next day, Jay sent me flowers and that was too long to fit on the florist’s card, so he abbreviated it to Bbog and after that, well, that’s how we referred to the baby.”
“Bbog. It’s original,” he said diplomatically. “You haven’t tried to find out what it is?”
“No. I want to be surprised. Jay wanted a girl, but I keep thinking it’s a boy.” She paused, then added, “About Saturday, thanks. I’d appreciate your help.”
“Other than painting, what needs to be done?”
She sighed. “Everything.”
“As in, put together the crib and set up the changing table everything?”
“Yes. I’ve tried, over and over again, but…”
Seth finished for her. “But you expected Jay to be there helping you, and it hurt too much to do it on your own.” He got that. After Allie died, he’d had to take down everything they’d put together. It had bothered him so much, he’d sold the house and moved into his apartment.
He glanced over and saw Laura’s shocked face.
“Yes, that’s it. How did you know?”
“I was married once and my wife passed away.” He couldn’t bring himself to mention the babies he’d lost, as well. Not with Laura so close to delivering her own. So, he simply said, “I get it, Laura.”
He’d felt a connection to her. A connection he hadn’t felt with anyone else. Seth suspected that his checking on Laura didn’t have much to do with the chief’s request, or even JT. He and Laura both understood loss in a way few people did.
“Oh,” she said slowly. “Oh, Seth, I’m sorry that you get it.”
“Me, too. For both of us.” Needing to lighten the mood, he said, “So, we’ll make a party of it on Saturday? Enjoy ourselves…right?”
“Yes. That would be nice.”
They drove the rest of the distance in companionable silence. Seth wished Laura would chatter about something, because otherwise he was left with thoughts of his parents and Allie.
His wife would be furious that he hadn’t mended the rift with his parents. There were moments he so wanted to. He wanted to hug his mom, shake his dad’s hand and assure them both that it was fine, that he forgave them. He simply hadn’t been able to bring himself to say the words.
They’d wanted him to wait to marry Allie, saying that they were both too young. But if he’d listened and waited, he’d have missed so much. Maybe marrying right out of high school wasn’t normally the wisest thing, but he treasured every one of those minutes with her.
After she’d died, his parents’ words of sympathy had felt hollow. Every word of comfort they tried to offer, every gesture had set Seth’s teeth on edge because all he could do was remember that they hadn’t wanted him to marry her. He tamped down that old anger and concentrated on the here and now.
Since his brother Zac had gotten married, he’d been around his family more than he’d been in years. He’d made an uneasy truce with his parents for his brother’s sake.
It wasn’t the same relationship they’d once had, but it was a relationship. That would have to do.
CHAPTER THREE
LAURA LOVED HER SMALL house within walking distance to the school. When she’d bought it three years ago, she’d enjoyed decorating and arranging everything. It was perfect.
This room was not.
She stood at the door to what was once the guest room and now would be a nursery. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like either at the moment. It looked like a storage room. A very disorganized storage room at that.
There were boxes and bags everywhere. For the last month she’d meant to come in and start sorting everything she’d bought for the baby’s arrival, but every time she tried, she got as far as opening the door, then she’d simply shut it and back away.
It wasn’t fair.
She was supposed to be doing this with Jay.
He was supposed to be here with her. They’d have called his parents, told them to come over and made a day of it. She’d have baked lasagna, and that crunchy garlic bread Jay liked so much. The aroma of it would have filled her small house and the sound of laughter would have filled every room as well.
They’d decided to live here for a few years and save money for something bigger. She always told Jay that the small size simply made the house more cozy. And on that day, it would have been cozy. Jay, his parents and her pregnant belly would have filled the house to the point of overflowing.
The thought of how it should have been hurt. It was a crippling pain that had the ability to take her breath away.
She put the pain aside, though, and concentrated on how it was now.
And how-it-was-now was that JT was going to paint a beautiful mural, and Seth was going to assemble the baby’s furniture.
How-it-was-now, was that she was going to gather all the baby’s clothes and wash them, then fold them and put them in drawers.
Laura forced herself into the room and pulled a bunch of Onesies out of a box. She’d ordered them from an online store. It’s how she’d bought most of the baby’s things. It seemed so much easier than traipsing to stores and having people ooh and aah over her ever-expanding stomach. Each time someone did that, she was hit anew with the thought that Jay should be there.
Stop.
She needed to stop thinking about Jay.
Which sounded so simple and was anything but.
She pulled out a Onesie. It had a picture of Einstein and the caption said Brilliant Minds Have Bad Hair Days, Too. She smiled. She could do this.
She marveled at how small the tiny sleepers were. Within weeks, Bbog would be wearing them as she held him or her.
She took off tags and filled the laundry basket with the baby’s clothes, then struggled to her feet. She was so ready not to feel like a turtle who was stuck on his back, scrambling to find some way to right himself.
The doorbell rang.
Basket in hand, she opened the door to Seth.
He looked different out of uniform. Approachable.
Cute.
Thinking of Seth Keller as cute was disconcerting at best, downright disturbing at worst.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked by way of a greeting.
For a moment she worried that he knew she’d thought he was cute, but he came in, shut the door behind him and stared pointedly at the basket in her hand.
Laura felt a flood of relief. “Laundry? I mean, I’d have thought it was evident, but maybe not.”
“You shouldn’t be carrying anything.” He took the basket from her hands.
“I can carry a basket of baby clothes. They weigh less than the grocery bags tend to.”
“You shouldn’t carry those eith—”
She was saved from another lecture and more disturbing thoughts about the man’s cuteness when the doorbell rang.
Laura opened the door to find the once again scrubbed-looking JT wearing oversize denim overalls and a tight white shirt, carrying a small bag. Her mother was in the car and didn’t look as if she was going to get out.
“Hi, Ms. Watson. Let’s make some pretty pictures.”
Seth put the basket down and went past them to JT’s mother’s car. He talked to her for a minute, then returned to the house. “I told her I’d take you home, if that was okay, and it was.”
JT nodded. “Thanks. So, Ms. Watson, wanna show me the room?”
SETH LISTENED TO JT and Laura chatter away about painting techniques and the mural as he opened up the box that contained the crib. The instructions may as well have been in Greek.
Now, he was sure Greek was a fine language. He had friends who were Greek and Lori and Tony had a habit of calling each other Greek endearments, which he was sure Laura and JT would think was sweet. But he wanted his instructions in English. Not rocket scientist English, but rather plain old everyday English.
He examined the parts, assessing what he had and trying to picture what he had to do in order to turn them into a crib.
Laura left to start a load of baby clothes in the machine, and he said, “JT, look at this paragraph. See if it makes sense to you.” He thrust the instructions at the girl.
She studied them for a moment and shrugged. “I don’t get it.”
“Could you read that paragraph while I try to follow along?”
JT studied the text, then shook her head. “No.” She turned her back on him and started to sketch outlines on the wall.
He looked up and saw Laura standing in the doorway with a puzzled expression on her face as she stared at JT. “Why don’t I help you?” she asked him. Laura read the instructions, step-by-step. And gradually, he made progress. She held a side as he screwed the headboard in place.
Forty-five minutes later, they had a crib.
“I’m gonna paint soon, Ms. Watson. You shouldn’t be in the fumes.”
“Okay. I’ll make lunch.” Seth jumped to his feet and offered her a hand. At first, he thought she wasn’t going to take it, but good sense won out and she did. He got her to her feet and she headed into the hall.
Seth hung behind. “Can I do anything to help, JT?”
JT shook her head. “Nah. I like working on my own.”
“I get that. But sometimes everybody needs a hand. Remember, I’m here. So’s Ms. Watson. We’re here to help with whatever you need.”
JT turned toward him. “I know we’re talking about more than helping with a mural. You’re trying to be real sly and make sure I know that you two care. I sort of already figured it out. I don’t know why. Why do you like me? I’m not the kind of kid most cops latch on to. And I can’t figure out why Ms. Watson likes me. She’s the only teacher at the school who does.”
“That’s not true.”
JT snorted. “Yeah, it is. Of course, I’m a pain in the ass in class. I don’t turn in homework and don’t apply myself. I’m disruptive and according to one very helpful teacher, there’s a chance I’m heading for a life of crime. She’s got a whole list of things I do and don’t do. Most of the time what I do do, I shouldn’t. And what I don’t do, I should. It’s no way to endear yourself to the powers-that-be. I guess they have a reason not to really like me, which only makes it weirder that Ms. Watson seems to.”
“So, why not apply yourself?”
“Why should I?”
Seth couldn’t help but think of his mom. He knew exactly what she’d say if she were here. “My mom had this option speech. She’d say, you should always do your best in every class, no matter how much work it takes because each of those grades represents your future options. Maybe your future job won’t depend on your grade in biology, but maybe you’ll decide you want to be a doctor. Maybe you’ll have this burning desire that eats at you—a feeling that your life won’t be complete unless you become a doctor. Well, if you flunked out of your science classes, you won’t have that option.”
He’d heard the speech so many times growing up, it was like he was channeling Deborah Keller. “If she said that to me once, she said it a thousand times. For her, it wasn’t about the grades, or the teachers, it was about me. About giving me the world. So, maybe you should give yourself as much of a chance as possible.”
“Maybe I’m dumb enough that all the chances and all the trying in the world won’t give me many choices, so what does it matter?”
Before he could come up with a response, JT pulled out some earbuds, stuck them in her ears and turned on an iPod, effectively tuning him out and his obviously unwanted advice.
He went back to the boxes and pulled out the pieces of a highchair. It was much easier to put together than the crib. Twenty minutes later, he carried it to the kitchen. “Where should this go?”
Laura smiled. “It’s great, isn’t it? How about we put it here.” She gestured to the side of the table. “I normally use this chair, so it will be close. I bought a little cloth cushion for it. It’s somewhere in all those boxes and bags.”
