Feels Like Summertime (7 page)

J
ake
, Mr. Jacobson, the kids and I settle into a sort of rhythm during the next two weeks. They show up for dinner, bringing all the food with them, and they cook it on our grill. Then Jake and I wash dishes after dinner and talk about nothing and everything while Gabby beats Mr. Jacobson at cards. Trixie puts bows in Sally’s fur, paints his nails, or brushes him until he gleams while all this is going on. Alex is the only one who’s left out.

He’s still throwing bottles into the lake with notes to God in them. Jake brings them to me. He doesn’t say anything. He just passes them over and I take them. They all say the same thing. They’re beseeching God to send his dad back because he thinks we’re in trouble.

And we are. The longer we’re here, the more I feel it. He’s going to come. He’s going to wreck the peace I’ve built here.

“Hey, Jake,” I ask as I dry the last glass after dinner.

“Hey, Katie,” he replies with a smile.

“Do you have Wi-Fi at the big house?”

He nods. “Sure do.”

“Do you think I could come and use it?” I have it on my phone, but of course I didn’t bring that with me.

“Sure,” he says. He stares hard at me. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” I respond, shrugging off his concern with a breezy wave. Over the past two weeks, Jake has stopped looking at me like I’m a puzzle he has to figure out. He’s become my friend again. A friend who occasionally places lingering kisses on my forehead, or sits on the couch next to me with his hand on my belly, trying to get the baby to bop his palm. “I just want to do some Web searching.”

“You can go now, if you want,” he says, nodding his head toward the big house. “I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Oh, Gabby can watch them.”

“Gabby is currently winning every last dollar in Pop’s wallet.”

“I’m going to make her give it all back. I promise.”

“Are you kidding?” he says on a laugh. “This is the most fun Pop has had in a long time. Don’t you dare make her give it back.”

I shake my head. “She can’t just keep it. It’s not right.”

“It’s right. She deserves it. She should get a babysitting fee just for keeping the old man entertained. Since she’s started playing cards with him, I haven’t had to go to the bingo hall and get him out of bingo jail even once.”

“Bingo jail?”

“It’s where they put old men who get grab-ass-y. Bingo jail. I’ve had to bail Pop out more than once.”

“He always was a pistol.” I place the last dish in the cabinet. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I go to use the Wi-Fi?”

“Positive,” he says. “Go ahead. The door is open and the password is on the back of the modem on the kitchen counter.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Impulsively, I step onto my tiptoes, put my hand on his shoulder, and kiss him on the cheek.

He leans in to kiss me on the cheek too, but accidentally grazes the corner of my mouth. My heart begins to beat double time. “You should go,” he whispers, his cheek lingering close to mine.

“I should go,” I say. But I don’t. I stand there next to him, breathing the same air as Jake, enjoying the moment.

Suddenly, the door opens and we spring apart. “Hey, Jake,” Alex says, tossing the football up in the air and catching it. “Want to toss the football around?”

“Hell yeah,” Jake says, and he dries his hands on a towel. Then he opens his arms and Alex tosses him the ball. “Go ahead, Katie,” he tells me. “Take the golf cart.”

“Thanks, Jake.” I get my computer from the bedroom and take Mr. Jacobson’s golf cart to their house.

It’s a big house set on a hill, with a fantastic view of the water. I set up the Wi-Fi and open my computer, then check my email.

There are hundreds of emails, mostly from
him
. The one person I don’t want to talk to is the only one who seems to want to communicate with me. The emails go from pleading and sweet to venom and loathing. They’re threatening, then apologetic, then loaded with curse words and swearing. He swears he will find me. He swears he will love me. He swears he will never stop looking. He swears he will be a better person. He swears he will change. He swears he will get help.

I believed that one. Once. I believed he could.

Then, the very last email, which was sent four days ago, opens up in my inbox.

I
drop
my head into my hands. Then I forward all the emails, every last one, to the agent back home who is assigned to my case.

The baby kicks, and I suddenly have to pee.

I leave the computer open, because I still haven’t done the Web searches I wanted to do. I wanted to check the newspapers back home and see if there’s anything I need to be aware of. There’s always the tiny chance that he has done something stupid and he’s in prison again. That would be a blessing. But the agent assigned to my case would have gotten a message to me by now if that had happened.

I wander down the hallway, trying to remember the way to the bathroom. I open the first door I come to and stop when I realize it’s Jake’s room. It hasn’t changed. His baseball trophies still line the shelf and he has pictures stuck to the corners of his dresser mirror. I step closer and see one of him and Fred when they were young. Fred came here every summer, from what Jake told me. They were pretty close, partners in crime. They got into more trouble than two people should be allowed to get into. The picture of Fred with his bright red hair makes me smile. We had a lot of good times together, the three of us.

But what makes me stop, heave in a breath, and clutch my heart, is the picture in the frame on the edge of his bedside table. It’s grown-up Jake. And a woman. He has his arm around her and she’s glowing. So is he. She has golden hair that hangs past her shoulders, and her face is radiant in the sunshine. She’s also very, very pregnant.

“I was supposed to be a dad,” a voice says from behind me.

I startle, and Jake walks up behind me.

“What happened?” I ask.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” he says, his voice heavy and full of emotion. He swallows hard.

“What does that mean?”

“You first, Katie,” he says. He jerks a thumb toward the kitchen. “I saw your computer.”

“What right do you have to snoop through my computer!”

“I have every right,” he says. I open my mouth to ream him a new one, but he holds up a finger and shushes me. “I have loved you since I was a kid, Katie.” He lays a hand upon his chest. “I still love you.”

My breath hitches. He has no idea how much I needed to hear that.

“Who’s stalking you, why, and why the hell is he telling you he’s going to kill you when he finds you?”

I blow out a breath. “Jake…”

“Katie…”

I point at the picture. “Tell me about her.”

“She was my wife. And she’s not anymore.”

“And?” I roll my finger to make him keep talking.

“And nothing. That’s all there is to it.”

“Liar. There’s more.” I narrow my eyes and stare at him. “She’s why you’re here. She’s why you’re not working. Tell me everything, Jake.”

He glares at me. “You first.”

T
hirty hours
of labor and my wife Laura was finally sleeping after getting an epidural. I was dead on my feet, but there was too much to do. I couldn’t get in a catnap. Besides, I wasn’t the one who was going to have to push a kid out of my vagina. Laura had to do all that. She deserved to sleep. But while she took a quick rest, I went to the waiting room to tell the family what was up.

We had decided months ago that we would be the only people, aside from doctors and nurses, in the delivery room. We wanted to share the moment together, to bask in the wonder of our new addition. We had tried for so long to get pregnant, and Laura had gone through so many miscarriages that this was a dream come true.

We were going to have a baby.

I was going to be a dad. After years of jizzing into a cup, and years of Laura going through fertility treatments that sent her hormones into a tizzy on a regular basis, this was the final step. She just had to deliver the healthy baby we’d been expecting for nine months, and we would be parents.

I stepped into the waiting room and Fred, my partner at work and my best friend from way back, jumped to his feet. Fred and I went through the police academy together, we went through training together, and we’d worked hard to become a team, fighting crime in the big city of New York. He was my best friend, so it didn’t surprise me that he was still here.

“How is she?” he rushed to ask.

“She’s finally sleeping. They gave her an epidural.”

Fred ran a hand through his bright red hair. “That’s good.” He relaxed a little.

“You okay, buddy?”

He nodded. “Just scared.” He held up a hand like he was surrendering to the cops. “For you. And for Laura. I’m scared for you guys. You’re going to be a dad. God, I can’t believe it.” He avoided my gaze.

A nurse opened the door to Laura’s room and stuck her head out. “Mr. Jacobson, it’s time.”

“It’s time?” Fred ran a hand through his hair again. Sweat sheened his forehead.

“You all right, buddy?” I asked again. I laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

He didn’t look at me. “Yeah, yeah… Go to your wife.”

“Mr. Jacobson?” the nurse prompted again. “We need you in here.”

Laura’s parents and her sister all stood at the door in the hallway with Fred while I went back inside the room. Laura was awake and they told her it was time to start pushing. She reached for my hand, and I sat down near her head, taking her palm firmly against mine. “You got this,” I told her. “Very soon, you’ll be holding our baby.”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Me too.” I was scared shitless.

I talked her through every contraction. I urged her to push, to breathe, to wait, to push again. I kept her going when she wanted to quit. I consoled her when she told me how much she hated me. I let her squeeze my hand.

Then it was time. I watched the baby come into the world. They lifted it and laid it upon her belly, and then they started to wipe it clean. The baby’s skin was rosy and pink.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor said. We didn’t want to know before the birth. “A healthy baby girl. You want to cut the cord, Dad?”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I watched as they cleaned her hair. Her
bright red hair
.

Laura laid her hand on the baby’s head and covered up those gleaming, flaming tufts. “Jake,” Laura said, sobbing.

I said nothing.

“You want to cut the cord, Dad?” the doctor asked again.

“No,” I said. I couldn’t breathe.

“I didn’t know, Jake,” Laura said, sobs heaving from her.

I said nothing. I had no words for her at all.

“It was just one time, Jake. Just once. I swear it.”

I looked toward the door where I knew Fred waited. “I’ll get Fred for you,” I said.

Then I walked out.

Fred met me at the door with a red face and sweaty armpits. We could hear the baby crying from the other room. “It’s a healthy baby girl,” I told them all. I held out a hand to Fred to shake. He took it warily. “Congratulations,” I said.

Then I walked out. I went home that night and drank myself stupid. Then I did it again, and every day for two weeks. I drank, took two weeks of vacation from work, and then when it was time to go back, my boss told me I needed a break. That was after I broke Fred’s nose. And his arm. And I tore up part of the office. And then I hit a civilian when he tried to break up the fight that I carried on with even after they threw me out onto the sidewalk. Apparently, I had some anger issues.

Laura never came home from the hospital. I don’t know where she went. She didn’t call. She didn’t come and get the baby stuff we’d collected. She didn’t do anything. She just left. I heard she went with her parents. Then I heard she was with Fred. All I knew was that she wasn’t with me. And she never would be again.

“
Y
ou were going
to be a dad, Jake,” I whisper. I cover my mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“You had no idea she was sleeping with Fred?”

He shakes his head. “None at all.”

“You and Fred were friends before I even met you.” I can see how fast his heart is beating by the vein in his neck.
Jump, jump, jump
.

“About twenty years or so.” He shrugs again.

“You must have been floored.”

“I saw that perfect little baby lying there on its mom’s chest, and all I could think was that Fred should be in the room. Not me. It was his kid. I could see it immediately. It wasn’t just because of the color of her hair. It was all over Laura’s face. She was devastated.” He shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “But underneath it all, she was a mom finally. And it wasn’t my place to ruin her day, so I left.”

“Do you ever wish she had told you before the delivery? That she’d told you about the ‘one time’ and given you a choice whether or not you’d stay? Do you think you would have? Stayed, I mean?”

He shakes his head again. “No. I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“Why not?”

“We’d been through too much. We’d lost four babies, gone through years of fertility treatments, and we’d lost all of what we’d had in the very beginning. Everything I loved about her was gone by the time we got pregnant.” He snorts. “Or by the time
they
got pregnant. We weren’t the same people. We resented the hell out of one another.”

I point to the picture. “You looked pretty happy here.”

“She was smiling into the camera at Fred.” He makes a rude sound in his throat. “She slept with my best friend. My best friend slept with my wife.” He picks up the picture, stares at it for a moment, and puts it away in a drawer.

“Then what happened? After the hospital?” I sit down on the edge of his bed and he sits down next to me. He scratches his nose.

“I went home and she didn’t. That was the end of it.”

“It’s not the end of it,” I tell him.

“Yes, it was the end of it. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Why aren’t you working?”

“I drank myself into a stupor, taking vacation so I could do it up right, and then I went back to work. But I didn’t quit drinking. When I was off duty, I would drink, and then I would drag my ass to work the next day.”

“You got into a fight with Fred at work.”

He nods. “I broke the bastard’s nose.”

“Good.” I feel a certain sense of satisfaction that he did that.

He shakes his head. “Not good. I hit him because he put a picture of the baby on his desk. That’s all he did. He put a picture of his kid on his desk.” He sighs. “So my drinking, my dragging ass, the fight, and the mistakes I was making led to me being put on administrative leave. My superior told me that I needed to get my shit together. Then Pop called and he needed me to come home. And then when I got here, you were here.” He holds his hands out. “And here we are. You and me. Sitting on my bed.”

“Just like old times.” I lay my hands on my belly. “Well, almost.” I laugh.

Jake chuckles. “If it was like old times, I’d be trying to get in your pants.”

I fake a gasp. “You mean you’re
not
trying to get in my pants?”

He leans over and kisses my forehead. Then he says quietly, “If I was trying to get in your pants, you would definitely know it.”

Butterflies take flight in my belly. “I wish things were different.”

“I don’t,” he says. “I like them just fine the way they are.” He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I’m feeling really fat and really pregnant and really needy, Jake, so I’m going to get out of here before I start to cry, okay?”

“Wait,” he says as I stand up. He grabs my hand. “You owe me some secrets.”

My belly jumps as the baby lands a solid kick. “I would love to tell you some secrets, Jake. I’d love to tell you all of them, but right now, I really have to pee.”

He laughs and spins me around. Then he pops me gently on the bottom. “Go pee. We’ll talk when you’re done.”

I go to the bathroom down the hallway, and Jake is waiting for me when I come out. “I think I’m going to go home, Jake. My back is killing me.”

His brow furrows. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Unless you have a masseuse in your pocket, I doubt it.” I arch my back, trying to relieve some of the strain.

He wiggles his fingers. “I just happen to have magical hands.” He tilts his head to the side like a playful puppy. “You talk. I’ll rub.”

“Really?” No one has taken care of me in a really long time. Just the idea of a massage from Jake has my insides trembling and my heart melting all at once. “You want to give me a back rub?”

“I’d give you just about anything you asked for, Katie,” he says softly. “You should know that by now.”

He holds out his hand for mine, and I lay my palm against his. He gives it a tug, and I walk slowly toward him. His eyes are hot and strong and so full of caring that my eyes well up with gratitude. I need for someone to take care of me even if it’s only for a few minutes.

Take care of me, Jake. Please take care of me. Just for a little bit.

“Where do you want me?” I ask.