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Half of Me

Page 8

by J. M. Paul


  When I lift my head, Jacob’s eyes are pinned to me. Regret and sorrow flow between the two of us as we stand there, soaking in the other, for the longest minute in the history of minutes. Finally, I blink, breaking the spell he cast over me.

  “Good-bye, Jacob,” I whisper.

  “Good-bye, Joslyn,” he says softly before I turn my back and walk away.

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  LIFE RAFT

  It’s been a week since Jacob and Jenna walked out of the hospital and my life. For the most part, I’ve been holding up well for someone who knows the possibility of something beautiful was ripped right out of her own hands.

  Agony and uncertainty have been my constant companions for the last seven days, but Maya has been giving an Oscar-winning performance in her role as bestie and supporter. Camila and Liz have also called and texted me more often than normal, which leads me to believe that Maya told them something was going on.

  As I turn down the main aisle at Target, leading to the books and movies, I try to avert my eyes from the baby section.

  It doesn’t go well.

  Despite the fact that the tiny pink, blue, and yellow infant items stab knives into my empty cavern, they also bring me happiness.

  I’m able to find joy because, in the last week, I’ve thought long and hard about what I want out of my life now that it has changed. I’ve come to the conclusion that, just because I can’t physically create a child, it doesn’t mean I can’t be a mother someday. There’s adoption, surrogacy, and many other options I haven’t explored, but I will when the time is right. The realization has planted the seed of hope in me, and I’ve been fertilizing it since.

  My attention is drawn to a young couple with a newborn. The woman still has a swollen stomach, which tells me she recently gave birth, and the father is asleep on his feet. Their lives have drastically changed in the last couple of weeks, but they are smiling at each other like only new parents can. There’s a joy in them that only the lucky get to discover.

  I start to daydream about the possibility of uncovering that feeling—albeit in an alternative way—when I’m snapped back into reality by a loaded cart plowing into my empty one.

  I let loose a sound of shock as a loud, “Shit,” sounds in my ears.

  My scowl lands on the electric-blue eyes of the offender, and my stomach drops.

  Jacob.

  My mouth falls open in a soundless gasp. My eyes bulge, just as Jacob’s do, and he stands taller and seems rigid.

  “Joslyn?” he says at the same time I say, “Jacob?”

  “What are you doing here?” I place my fingers at the base of my throat.

  “Shopping.” He runs his hand along his jaw and smirks.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” I release a breathless laugh and nod so many times, I probably simulate a bobblehead. My skin tingles, and a fluttery feeling grows in my stomach.

  We both stand without moving. I dart my eyes around the store, and Jacob looks at nothing but me. His gaze sets my pulse sprinting.

  I scratch my shoulder and finally drag my attention back to him. “How are you?”

  “I’ve been getting by.” He shrugs and adjusts something in his cart.

  My eyes rake over him and notice his hair is sticking up in a couple of different directions. His eyes are bloodshot and underlined by dark crescent moons.

  He seems like he’s barely getting by.

  “How’s Jenna? And Jagger?” I’m zinging a dart directly into the bull’s-eye I know is the cause of Jacob’s appearance.

  A small smile hints at the corners of his mouth, and a gleam enters his eyes. “They’re good. Exhausting but good.”

  Bingo.

  “Good to hear.” Stepping closer to him, I level him with my gaze. “Now, how are you really doing?”

  Jacob rubs his temple and squeezes his lids closed for a second. When he opens them, his eyes are glazed. “I’m fine, really.”

  My eyebrows lift, and I tip my head, staring at him, grim-faced.

  Sagging his shoulders, Jacob exhales. “The kids really are good. Me? As I said, I’m getting by.”

  “What do you mean, getting by?”

  My hand rests on his arm, and he stares at it for a long while.

  “Single parenting is no joke.” He releases one humorless laugh.

  “No, I imagine it’s not.” I remain quiet, waiting for him to crack and bleed out in truth-filled words.

  “Jagger’s been acting out. I assume it’s because he misses Juliana, and my attention’s now split between him and Jenna.” His expression slackens at the statement. “Jenna’s absolutely adorable, and she’s woven herself right into my heart.” The hint of his smile returns, and he rubs his chest. “But she’s demanding. I can’t seem to help make her happy or comfortable. She’s restless, and she cries a lot. It’s because she needs her mom; she and Jagger both do. As hard as I try, I’m only the dad, and I don’t have the motherly touch they crave.”

  He shakes his head and then lowers it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you. I’m just overwhelmed, and I haven’t slept in almost a week.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  I squeeze his forearm before I release it. “It’s okay, Jacob. You can always talk to me.”

  He intently stares at me. “But I can’t. You won’t give me your number.”

  The statement isn’t said in humor, but I chuckle like it is, trying to make light of the situation. He’s at his wits’ end, and I won’t start an argument with him in his current state.

  If he only knew how many times I wished I had his number, so I could text to find out how he, Jenna, and Jagger were doing or to hear his voice hum in my ear.

  The contents of his cart catch my interest, and I blink several times to make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing. Jacob has several packages of diapers that are too big for Jenna, four brands of baby monitors, bottles and nipples that shouldn’t be used with a preemie, too many bibs and burp cloths to count, sippy cups, and a plethora of other items that will probably never be used in real parenting life.

  “Um…” I swallow to stop myself from making a comment.

  Jacob’s already on edge, and I don’t want to be the one to make him snap.

  My gaze bounces from him to the cart and back to him.

  I shift my feet and pull down the sleeves of my U of M hoodie, and that’s the moment I remember how awful I look. It’s Sunday, my only consistent day off—if studying doesn’t count as work—and I tend to be lazy about getting ready. I showered, brushed my teeth, put deodorant on, and pulled my wet blonde hair up into a messy bun. And that’s it. I’m wearing my favorite pair of ripped jeans, my navy-blue hoodie, and my well-worn Vans.

  My cheeks heat, and I run my hand over my lumpy hairdo.

  “What?” Jacob asks.

  My eyes bulge.

  Did I say any of that out loud?

  “What, what?” I’m a genius. What can I say?

  “You were scrutinizing my cart.” He shifts the red bin on wheels, drawing my attention back to it.

  “I-I…I was.” I flash an apologetic grin.

  “Why?”

  Oh dear God. Why must I be so judgmental when it comes to baby items?

  “Um…” I say slowly, not sure how I should respond.

  “You said that already.” He runs a hand through his hair, sending the strands into even more disarray. It’s adorable.

  “Did I?” I scratch my ear.

  “Stop stalling. What am I doing wrong?” He draws his mouth into a straight line and bites his lip.

  Goddamn, how I’d love to do that for him.

  “You’re not doing anything wrong.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of my inappropriate thoughts.

  “You’re shit at lying.” He grins.

  “I am.” My lips pinch into a thoughtful smirk.

  He waves his hands toward himself. “Give it to me. What items don’t you like?”

  A mother with
three children skirts by us, and her youngest boy bumps into my leg.

  “Sorry,” the woman says as she passes by before yelling at the toddler.

  I give her a small wave.

  “Do you want me to be nice or honest?” I question when I stare at Jacob.

  “Both?” His lips part slightly.

  I scrunch up my cheeks. “Have you been feeding Jenna Miracle Grow?”

  Jacob scrunches his brows together, jerks his head back, and then shakes it.

  “I didn’t think so.” I pick up one of the packages of diapers. “Then, these are three sizes too big for her.”

  “Damn it,” he growls.

  “And don’t even get me started on the bottles.” Dropping the diapers back into the cart, I tap one of the four boxes of monitors. “You couldn’t pick just one?”

  He’s quiet for so long that I begin to worry I’ve made him angry.

  “Fuck.” He grabs two fistfuls of his hair and pulls. “Goddamn it.”

  My eyes are the size of saucers as I watch him. I’m almost positive I can see steam coming out of his ears and flames licking inside his chest.

  I think I broke him.

  Searching the perimeter, I pull him to the side and out of the way of the young couple with the newborn I was admiring earlier.

  “It’s not a big deal, Jacob.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” he huffs.

  I have to school my features, so I don’t smile. He definitely wouldn’t find the humor in this situation. At least, not now.

  “Would you like my help?” I throw out a life raft for him.

  What is it about guys that make them so unwilling to ask for help when they need it?

  His pleading blue eyes lock on mine. “Hell yes.”

  Unable to help it, I smile then.

  A stern countenance takes over his face before I see him struggling not to smile himself. We both bust out into laughter then.

  “For shit’s sake, just lead me to the crap I need, baby whisperer.” Jacob swings his arm toward the infant section.

  Digging right in, I replace the wrong items he has with the right things along with a slew of other stuff—a high chair, a pack and play, and a Boppy. Shopping is fun when it’s not my money I’m spending. I feel slightly guilty, but Jacob seems like he needs everything, and I have a feeling that money is no object for him.

  When we finish up in the clothing department, we head toward the checkout area with our two full carts of baby items. Jacob insists on paying for my few bathroom products since I helped him shop, and then I help him load it all into his SUV after I throw my bags into my car.

  “You sure you don’t mind going with me to Babies “R” Us?” He slams the hatchback and turns to me.

  When I told him he should go to Babies “R” Us for everything else, a panicked expression crossed his face. He begged me to accompany him, and it didn’t take much persuasion for me to give in.

  “Not at all. You don’t need a repeat of what almost happened in there.” I point at the store, referring to his shopping cart full of wrong.

  “Maybe I just did that, so you’d have to help me.” He lifts his eyebrows.

  “You didn’t know I’d be here.” I cross my arms over my chest and cock my hip.

  He shrugs. “I guess we’ll never know. Now, shut your pretty mouth, and get in the car.”

  Being in a vehicle with Jacob is overwhelming. His masculine scent wraps itself around me and brands me. Watching him feel overwhelmed and then excited about baby items makes me turn to mush for him.

  We drove to Babies “R” Us, made quick work of purchasing the rest of the things he needed for Jenna, and now, we’re sitting at lunch, and I’m trying to ignore all the women in this restaurant fawning over him. It makes a spark of jealousy flare deep in my gut. I know, as soon as he gets back into the dating scene, all the hens will flock in his direction, and I already hate the woman who will capture his affection.

  “I’ve tried everything, but Jenna never seems to be comfortable or happy.” Jacob shoves the last bite of his hamburger into his mouth.

  “You need to get her on a schedule. The same with Jagger.” I dip my French fry in ketchup and then thoughtfully chew on it. “Kids do best with a routine. They know what to expect and what’s expected of them.” I shrug.

  “I can deal with things on my end, but what I need is to find someone to watch the kids while I’m at work during the day or at evening meetings.” Jacob reaches across the table and steals a couple of my fries. “I feel like I’m constantly juggling them around. Juliana’s parents love to spend time with the kids, but they’re getting too old to deal with an active toddler and a demanding newborn.”

  “You should research getting a regular caregiver.” I squeeze more ketchup onto my plate and then slide it to the middle of the table, so Jacob and I can share.

  “You mean a nanny? And trust my kids with a stranger?” He seems stunned by the idea.

  “It’s better than juggling them and dropping one of the balls.” Lifting my glass of Coke, I take a long swallow. “Because it’ll eventually happen.”

  “You’re right.” Jacob wipes his mouth with his napkin and then places it on the table. “I already feel like I’ve dropped several of them already.” He exhales loudly and runs his hand down his face. “I need to get a nanny.” He tests out the phrase.

  “I can help you if you want.”

  Wait, what? Placing myself in this situation is not a good move, so why in the hell did I volunteer?

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  His eyes snap to mine, and the heaviness around his mouth eases. “You will? God, Joslyn, thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate the offer.”

  “You’re…welcome?” It comes out as a question, and if Jacob hears the hesitation in my voice, he ignores it.

  “So, how do we begin?” he asks.

  We. It’s such a simple word but one that makes my chest constrict in a delicious way. I like the word we when it refers to me and Jacob. It’s almost as good as us.

  Focus, Joslyn.

  “Well, we’ll have to either get recommendations from people or we can go online and see what kind of services are offered.” I spin the straw in my soda glass. “Recommendations would be better. I don’t have experience with nanny services, but it seems like whoever they send would be sterile. Like, you match on paper, but who knows if the person would be the right fit for your family?”

  The waitress stops and asks if she can bring us anything else.

  “The check, please.” Jacob’s attention never wavers from mine.

  “I imagine it’s an intimate situation to let someone have complete access to your life,” I continue like we were never interrupted, “your kids, and your household. You’ll need to undoubtedly trust this person.”

  I lift my brows, wondering if Jacob’s capable of trust after what Juliana did to him. It’s a completely different scenario, but from experience, I know that, once that kind of trust is broken, it’s hard to open yourself up again.

  “They’ll need to have a connection with the kids, which might not happen right away, but you have to see evidence for the relationship to develop. You need to like them and have confidence in their ability to care for your children. Also, someone with a medical background would be ideal since Jenna is a preemie and needs extra care.”

  “So, basically, I need you.”

  “Basically.” I flash a sly grin.

  “Why can’t it be you?” Jacob sits forward and crosses his arms on the table.

  “Uh, because I have school and my internship.”

  “Yes, there’s that.” He rubs his hand against his chin. “What’s your schedule like day to day?”

  “Jacob…” I warn.

  “Humor me.” He has a no-nonsense business tone.

  “Busy.” I sit back and cross my arms over my chest.

  “No doubt.”

  We sit quietly for a while. His steady gaze is on
me, and he’s rubbing his index finger along his lip. It does inappropriate things to me. I watch him, squirming in my seat.

  “I have class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. My schedule at the hospital changes every week.” I finally give in and tell him, “I also have hours of homework and studying on top of everything else.”

  “I can work with that.” His perfect white teeth flash at me.

  I shake my head, but everything about me tells him I’m not confident in my denial. My breathing increases, my hands clutch together, and I scoot to the edge of my seat.

  The thought of having unlimited access to Jenna and Jagger, to interact with them in a home environment, is almost too much for me to deny myself. And the thought of being around Jacob on a regular basis sets my pulse racing.

  The emptiness in me yearns to be filled with the family I wanted but couldn’t have, if only for a short while. To feel the completeness that was ripped from me, to experience the trusting and loving eyes of children depending on me to make everything better. To witness the evening giggles while I read to them before bed and the sleepy cuddles in the morning.

  I want every single aspect of those moments even though they’re not mine to have.

  “As much as it pains me to admit,” Jacob interrupts my thoughts, “my family’s bleeding, Joslyn. I’m doing the best I can, but it’s not good enough. When I’m not there, the kids need someone they know and trust, someone who makes them comfortable.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. “Maybe you could help me out when you’re available? Just for a little while until I can find someone who’s a good fit. Please, Joslyn, I’m begging you.”

  That arrow hits me right in the chest, and before I think about it, I nod, already knowing it’s the best and worst decision I’ve ever made.

  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  WELL-OILED MACHINE

  “Jagger, please put your shoes on. We need to get you to preschool.” I crouch down and help Jagger squeeze his feet into his too-small sneakers. I make a mental note to buy him another pair.

 

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