they can play with Mom while we’re playing with Rose.”
“Sure it’s okay with your mom?”
“Yeah. She likes having company. Plus, she’s always wanting us to eat, so now she can feed you guys, too. It’ll be fun.”
BEHIND THE WHEEL of his SUV, Jackson killed the engine, then shot a glance in the rearview mirror at his son—engrossed in a handheld video game.
Jackson sighed, then rubbed his face with his hands.
“You all right?” Julie asked from beside him, a beribboned wine bottle on her lap.
“Sure. Long day—and night.”
“No kidding. Sorry it took me so long to get here. Judge Parker wouldn’t recess, so—”
“It’s fine. You’re here now, which is all that matters.”
She flashed him a smile and patted his thigh.
To say Jackson had been surprised by Ella’s impromptu dinner invite would’ve been the understatement of the week. His reaction had actually been more in the realm of shock. He felt badly about the way things had gone down in the woods—his getting all bent out of shape at her benign comment.
But shoot, for the most part, he felt as if even on a good day, he wasn’t exactly playing with a full emotional deck. On a day like today? When he hadn’t known if his son was alive or dead? Then Julie shows up, suddenly playing the part of concerned mom.
Let’s just say Ella had been lucky his outburst hadn’t been worse. Or maybe he was the lucky one, so that he didn’t look like even more of an insensitive jerk.
“Come on, Mom and Dad.” Dillon leaned into the front seat. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“Sure,” Jackson said with a start, wishing the longer days of late spring didn’t also mean glaring sun at an hour when he’d have preferred the more soothing black of night.
While Jackson helped Julie from the tall vehicle, Dillon hopped from the car and raced across the yard. On the front porch that was decked out in red geraniums and white impatiens, Dillon didn’t bother ringing the doorbell, but instead, tossed open the screen door and walked right in. “Owen? Oliver? Where’s the baby?”
“Dillon?” called a female voice from inside.
Having ushered Julie onto the porch, then following, Jackson felt somewhat voyeuristic watching through the screen as Ella approached his son only to pull him into a hug. She’d changed from the jeans and T-shirt he’d last seen her in to white shorts and a pink tank. She’d washed her long hair and pulled it into a ponytail, the ends of which were still damp.
“What’re you doing here, sweetie?” she asked. “I would’ve thought you and your mom and dad would be having a special family night?”
“Nah. Owen and Oliver invited us for dinner. They said you’d be cool with it. ’Kay?”
“Um…sure, but—” She glanced outside, and Jackson lurched back. To what? Hide? “Jackson? That you?”
“Yup.” He resisted the urge to smack his forehead for not having called to confirm that the dinner invitation had been from Ella and not the twins. “And Julie.”
“Oh—hi. What a nice surprise. Come in.” She tried opening the screen, but it didn’t budge.
“You have to lift and then kick,” Dillon pointed out, nudging her aside to complete the task himself. “It’s almost, but not quite, broken, just like at our house.”
“Thanks,” she said, ruffling Dillon’s hair. “Sometimes I forget.”
“Ours is broken?” Julie asked.
“I’m on it,” Jackson said, marveling at the woman’s gall to call his home ours.
“Come on, Dad. Owen and Oliver said there’s lots of good food.”
“I’m sorry,” Jackson said to Ella. “Dillon said you’d invited us, but clearly he must’ve misunderstood.”
“Dillon!” Oliver said, cautiously maneuvering the front staircase, the baby in his arms. “Look how pretty she is in her little dress. The ladies at the hospital gave it to her.”
Ella turned. “Be careful with her, Oliver.”
“Awww…” Dillon raced in that direction. “She’s so cute.”
“She’s amazing,” Julie crooned. “Dillon, I don’t remember you ever being this tiny.”
“You might as well stay,” Ella said. “The neighbors were crazy generous with food.”
“They’re good folk,” Jackson said. “They did a lot for me after…”
My wife took off.
Ella, still holding open the door, cleared her throat and stepped aside. “Come on in. I’ll get out the plate of cold cuts and some bread.”
Jackson followed the two women to the kitchen. He didn’t want to be here. Forced into making small talk with a neighbor he hardly knew and the ex he more often than not wished he’d never known.
“Mayo or mustard?” Ella asked in front of the fridge.
“Both,” Jackson said.
“Nothing for me,” Julie said.
“Hey, Dad!” Dillon hollered, rushing into the room, the baby in his arms. “Guess what?”
“You need to slow down.” Jackson gestured to the pink bundle. “The, ah, well, baby’s fragile.”
“Duh, Dad. And her name is Rose. We named her after the flower.”
“Here, Mom—” Grasping the infant under her arms, Dillon gingerly handed her to Julie.
Julie tucked the baby against her chest and began to coo. “Aren’t you a sweetie pie? Yes, you are…”
“She likes you,” Ella said to Julie. “That’s a good sign that you make her feel loved and safe.”
Loved and safe? Ha! It took everything Jackson had in him not to snort. How about the emotional number she’d pulled on their son?
Still, watching Julie with Rose sent him back to when Dillon had been a baby. To when he and Julie had been overwhelmed with the enormity not just of the logistics of bathing, diapering and keeping up a steady supply of mushy carrots and peas, but love. The love they’d both felt holding their infant son in their arms, or lying in bed with him early mornings, wondering what went on behind his enormous brown eyes.
Jackson glanced up to find Ella staring his way. He cast her a faint smile. They shared a kinship of sorts, as they both belonged to the cheating spouse club. Granted, Julie’s lover had been her job, but it’d destroyed their marriage all the same.
Ella
