A Perfect Pair

Then the pair slipped quietly back to their seats, and Josey returned her attention to her class, and the show went on.

When the curtain closed, all the parents jumped to their feet, clapping and whistling. Josey leaped onto the stage, pushed behind the curtain and lined up the children, holding hands, for their bow. When one little boy and girl in the middle refused to touch each other’s hand—fear of cooties, no doubt—Josey alleviated the problem by stepping between them and taking a small hand in each of hers. She nodded at the stage girl to pull the curtain open again, and as cameras flashed and camcorders whirred, Josey took the deserved bow with her hardworking, exhausted kids.

But in that moment, when she expected her heart would swell with its usual pride, it felt achy and hollow—a first for her.

When the last straggling child had gone for the day, Josey looked around the room, abandoned for the afternoon. Rays of sunshine filtered through the window blinds and lit up the desks in the front row. Everything was so familiar and yet felt strange to her. She felt strange, really. As if she’d never really seen anything before and now it was all suddenly clear.

Instead of rummaging through her desk for her take-home work—papers to grade, lessons to plan—she just went to the closet, grabbed her spring trench coat and flung it over her arm. She picked her keys absently out of her top desk drawer and left the classroom, slamming the door behind her.

The subway ride home passed in a daze. Josey hung on to the overhead bar, the car’s motion bumping her into fellow Boston commuters. She didn’t notice. She just stared at her own face, reflected in the window as the train moved through the darkness in between stations. She looked at herself, standing in the crowd, the way someone else on the subway might have looked at her, and she didn’t feel anything at all. She got off at her stop automatically, and walked the three blocks to her apartment building. It was a pleasant walk, and usually Josey thought about how nice it was to live in such a historic, if slightly overpriced, neighborhood. But today she may as well have been walking through a war zone, for all she knew.

She turned her key in the front door and without stopping at her mailbox, started up the stairs to her apartment. She didn’t bother knocking on Nate’s door to see if he was home yet, just dragged up one more flight and let herself into her own place.

The answering machine was blinking—two messages—but Josey didn’t care. She threw her coat over a chair and flopped onto the sofa, listlessly staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t care at all. She felt…empty. She kicked off her beige suede pumps.

What had happened to her? This day had been turning out so well. The play went off with barely a hitch. She was able to talk to parents without stammering… Even this morning, her kids had done so well on their spelling tests—

Her kids. Her kids.

They weren’t her kids. They were all someone else’s kids.

In the peeling ceiling plaster, Josey suddenly saw Jamie’s mother’s face again, beaming with pride and love at her family. Josey didn’t know what the woman did for a living, but she suspected family was the woman’s first priority.

Having a family had never been her priority.

She liked—no, loved—being single. She liked having different dates on different weekends, and getting to know a variety of people. Her girlfriends—Ally, for one—thought of dating as a necessary step to finding the right man and getting married. But Josey didn’t think that way. It was too much pressure. How could you go out to dinner with a man you just met and be checking him out for commitment potential? Josey knew she wouldn’t even get to dessert if her mind worked that way. She just liked talking to new people and having fun. Her dates were platonic, anyway, for the most part. She’d only had two boyfriends that she would have called serious—one in high school and one in college. Both relationships had run their course, though, and Josey, a resilient woman, had gotten over them. Plenty of fish in the sea…

Josey shifted her weight on the sofa and picked the remote control off the floor. She pointed it at the television, but dropped her arm almost immediately and began toying with the device, fingering the rubber keys.

She remembered Ally lamenting once, after a particularly horrendous date, “I know the perfect man is out there for me, and I can’t find him. You can’t find yours, either, but it doesn’t even bother you. You’re in the same boat as me, but if you have a lousy date, you just shrug it off.”

“Sure, I do,” Josey had said. “What’s the rush?” And she had believed it, then.

So why was she sitting here now, thinking maybe Ally and all those other single women were right? Thinking that maybe dating really was a means to an end, and she’d never get to that end if she just continued on the way she had been, accepting dates with nice people just to have a good time.

Did she really need more? Were there possibilities she had ignored?

Josey suddenly bolted up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen. She usually had a beer and watched TV before fixing a simple dinner, but when she opened the refrigerator, the thought of downing a beer and yelling at Oprah Winfrey’s guests seemed too…bachelorette. She slammed the fridge door and grabbed the mostly unused teakettle off the stove. She filled it with water and set it back down on the range, turning up the heat. Then she rummaged through the overhead cabinet for a clean mug. Tea. Very domestic.

Domestic?

Josey stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor. Was she really considering this? A family? Her? Born-to-have-fun, sworn-to-single-life Josephine St. John?

A husband?

The phone rang, startling Josey so much a small gasp emerged from her throat. She lunged for the phone, not wanting to hear one more offensive ring. “Hello?”

“Oh, you’re home early. I was going to leave you a message.” Nate’s rich baritone filled her ear. The reserved, slightly detached tone of his voice was typical of someone making a personal phone call from work, but then, Nate often sounded like that. Besides, Josey knew he had to be at work, because if he were at home, he’d be knocking on her door instead of calling her.

“Hey, Nate.”

“You sound exhausted. The kids wear you out? Oh no, wait, the play. How’d it go?”

“All right. I mean, fine. It went fine.” Josey, frustrated with her inability to communicate, pushed back a corner of the kitchen curtain and glanced outside. The bright late-afternoon sunshine made her squint, so she dropped the gauzy material.

“It’s Friday once again,” Nate continued. “And it’s your turn to choose. Japanese, Italian, Thai? Hamburgers?”

Oh, damn. Josey couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her weekly dinner out with Nate. But she was in no shape to go anyplace tonight. She was just going to get into her bathrobe and turn on some Billy Joel and stare into space. She was in the midst of some kind of epiphany, and she needed to stay here and sort out her mind. And maybe replan her future.

“Nate, you know what? It’s not really a good night for me.”

Nate paused, then asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“All right, strike that.” Spoken like a true lawyer. “What’s going on?”

“Why does something have to be going—”

“Because you never cancel out on me. I tried to cancel on you twice, but I didn’t succeed because no matter how much work I have to do, you always convince me otherwise.”

“Mmm…”

“And you know what? You’re always right. So, no excuses. I’ll stop by in about two hours. I’ve got a few more things to handle here, then—”

“Nate, I’m serious. I’m sorry. I really can’t do it tonight.”

“All right. Don’t worry about it. I’m not insulted. Just tell me why you’re canceling.”

Josey began pacing in a slow circle, wrapping the phone cord around her body. “Why do you sound so worried?”

“Because I am worried. No one likes to go out and have fun more than you, Josey. You wouldn’t ditch a night out on the town unless something was up.”

“Nate,” Josey insisted, “I’m fine. Okay? I just have to—well—I have to stay here and…think for a while.”

Not normally one for spontaneous good humor, Nate laughed out loud. “That, I have to say, is a new one. Do you usually go through life not thinking?”

“Nate, please. I’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay? Don’t get on my—”

“I’m not, I’m not.” Nate was suddenly serious again. “I didn’t mean to laugh. Whatever this is with you, I hope you figure it out. Do you want a rain check for tomorrow evening? It’s a Saturday night. I wouldn’t want to impose on any big date plans.”

As it happened, Josey didn’t have a date. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know. That should be fine,” she added, distractedly.

“Hold on.” The sound was suddenly muffled, as if Nate had covered the mouthpiece with his hand, and she heard voices. Then he came back. “Josey, listen, I have to run. One crisis after another around here.”

“Yeah.”

“So I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Don’t forget to call.”

“I won’t, Nate.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up, and Josey rested her hand on the receiver for a moment, trying to get control of her thoughts again.

But despite her effort, all that went around in her head was I want a family.

Well, she thought, why fight it? My mind is made up.

She glanced up at the framed poster on the far wall, of the Patriots’ quarterback. Nate had bought it for her birthday last month, in remembrance of their first meeting. Her mouth turned up slightly at the memory of tall, dark, handsome, subdued Nate crashing into her apartment, afraid all hell was breaking loose, and intending to do something about it. Sweet, reliable, responsible Nate.

Nate, Josey realized with a start, would be perfect to help her.

When she had told Nate she’d call him tomorrow, she had said it automatically, so that he’d stop worrying about her. But, she thought now, he was the perfect person to help out.

If anyone would understand what she was going through, it would be him. He didn’t have a wife and kids—hadn’t even dated anyone seriously since Josey had known him—but he was goal-driven and ambitious, and she needed someone like that now that she was planning to restructure her own life around a new objective. A family.

Besides, Josey thought, walking down the short hall to her bathroom and shedding her work clothing on the way, good old responsible Nate ought to be able to help her figure out how to do a responsible thing like settle down. She’d just ask for his help. Tomorrow.

Chapter Two

A light tapping on Nate’s door startled him.

“Come in!” he called, leaning back in his chair in an authoritative position. The door creaked open, and David Jeffers strode in, his footsteps muted on the soft green pile rug.

“Nathan Bennington,” Jeffers said, taking the seat across from Nate without waiting for an invitation. He wouldn’t have needed one, of course. To Nate, David Jeffers was the closest thing he’d ever had to a mentor. He was the first assistant district attorney Nate had met and worked with upon arriving at the D.A.’s office two years ago, fresh out of law school. Jeffers was someone Nate strove to impress—even now, after they’d become friends.

“Sir,” Nate replied with a smile.

Jeffers picked up a glass paperweight on Nate’s desk and studied it closely for a moment before replacing it. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about a new opportunity you might be interested in. As soon as I heard about it, I had a feeling you might want to be in on it. Kind of a new challenge.”

“Yes?” Nate’s interest was already piqued. And it was a good thing, because it took his mind off Josey and that weird little phone call earlier. For Josey to say she wanted to sit inside and “think” on a Friday night was odd, and for the last hour, Nate had been a little distracted by worry. Which was something he was rather talented at. So now he focused his full attention on what Jeffers was saying.

“A small group of attorneys in this office is getting together to work in a specialized area—domestic violence. The number of local cases is skyrocketing, and it’s all you ever see in the media anymore. The D.A.’s decided to expand the domestic violence unit—with some additional lawyers. Talented ones. Ones who can handle the type of cases that come through here.”

Domestic violence. “What kind of cases?” Nate asked, his lips suddenly dry. It was a silly question, really. He knew the answer full well. But it was all he could think to say.

“Just about anything you’d conceive of. But the boss wants to specifically—and more publicly—target spousal abuse and child abuse.”

Nate stared at Jeffers’s face for a full minute, his heart beating fast, suddenly paranoid that his colleague knew about him, knew— No, his rational mind quickly insisted. Jeffers could have no idea of the kind of gift he was offering. Close as he was to David Jeffers, Nate had never told him—or anyone—about his father, or about the demons that had haunted him ever since he and his brother had run away from home.

He had considered the possibility of getting child abuse cases eventually. He wasn’t entirely sure that it hadn’t been in the back of his mind all along when he’d applied to Harvard Law School. But this “task force” would make prosecuting abusers a main focus. He would be personally responsible for throwing abusers behind bars.

With this new position, Nate could confront his demons. And spit in their faces.

Trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice, he said slowly, “That definitely sounds like something I would like to be involved in. But why me, Jeffers? I haven’t even gotten a chance to prosecute an abuse case yet.”

“You’ve been very successful here so far, with an excellent record, and it’s important we have the city’s best prosecutors on these cases, which can become very high-profile. But you may want to think about it. I’m handing over to you a case involving assault on a child. You can work on that and see how you do.”

“I assure you I can handle the work.”

“Oh, I’m certain of that. I don’t doubt your ability in the slightest. Quite the opposite—that’s why I thought of you. But I think you should feel out what it’s like to see abuse, and deal with it day in and day out, before you actually make a commitment to become part of this team. It’s rough stuff, very ugly.”

Nate’s mouth twisted at the irony of the attorney’s words, for he remembered, long ago, dealing with pain day in and day out under his father’s roof without any choice at all. But all he said was, “Thank you very much.”

“No problem.” Jeffers stood and stretched his head and arms back, groaning a little in fatigue or weariness. “Look at this damn place, Nate. It’s neat as can be. My office looks like my file cabinet exploded. Do you get a maid to come in here or what?”

Nate forced out a smile, forced himself to look normal. “I can come in and do your office. For a fee, naturally.”

“No thanks. I always say, if everything’s all over my desk in plain sight, I won’t lose anything.” His grin easily cut a decade off his forty-five years. “Listen, you need to come by one of these weekends now that the weather is on the steady improve. Simone’s been asking about you.”

Nate’s smile felt more natural at the mention of Jeffers’s sweet but mischievous wife. “Because she misses me or because she’s got a girlfriend she wants to set me up with?”

Jeffers spread out his hands, palms up. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t have to.” Nate stood to open the door for his friend. “I will come by, but be sure to tell her it’s for the mere pleasure of her company.”

“She’ll love it.” Jeffers moved toward the door, then hesitated. “Come by my office when you get a minute and grab that case file, all right? I’m happy you’re interested.”

When Jeffers left, Nate closed the door, vowing to open it in five minutes. After some privacy and head-clearing. He sat back down in his chair, rested his elbows on the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. Then, in a swift move, he swiveled his chair around to stare at the busy streets of Boston from four floors up.

Out of nowhere, he’d been handed the opportunity of his lifetime.

“I’m going to have a baby,” Josey said.

Nate stared at her for a fraction of a second, then promptly began to choke on a piece of buttered bread. As he reached blindly for his water glass and poured the liquid down his throat, ice and all, Josey just laughed. “Oh, Nate, come on. Cut it out.”

Nate gave a few more hacking coughs, drawing a few concerned glances from other outdoor diners at the small bistro. “Excuse me,” he said, testing his throat. His voice sounded strangled and hoarse. He took another sip of water, then wiped his lips calmly with a cloth napkin. “Excuse me,” he repeated, his dignified voice restored. Then he looked across the table, straight into Josey’s dark, dark eyes. “Now,” he began, as smoothly as he could manage, “what did you just say?”

“You heard me. I’m going to have a baby.” She must have correctly deciphered the incredulity on his face at last, because she amended hastily, “Not right now. I mean, I’m not going to have one now. I’m not pregnant. Is that what you thought I meant?”

“No,” Nate lied.

Josey fixed him with a shrewd look. “Yes, you did. Lovely thing to think, Nate. I’m not even seriously dating anyone. Did you really think—?”

“I really thought nothing,” he insisted. “I had no time to think it through at all. You surprised me, the way you said it, all right? I was just surprised. I still am. Because where is this baby idea coming from, anyhow?”

“I…” Josey reached to the middle of the table and broke off a piece of the honey-wheat loaf. But she didn’t put it into her mouth. She just held it, staring off over his shoulder. She sat there in silence, squinting against what must have been a spectacular sunset behind Nate, if the lights and shadows that passed across her face were any indication. But rather than turning to admire the view, Nate watched her, shocked by her revelation and anxious to hear her reasoning.

“I can’t explain it, really,” she said after what seemed like ages. “It just dawned on me. It just came to me like a dream. That this should be my dream. Having a baby. Starting a family.”

Nate leaned back in his chair and studied her dreamy expression. “So basically, it’s the old biological clock kicking in.”

Josey made a face. “No. I mean, I guess so, but that isn’t really the best way of putting it. It’s not just the biological clock. It’s more than that. It was like a vision or something.” She put the bread into her mouth and chewed for a moment, then said, “Like a calling.”

Nate was beginning to feel a little uneasy. He was accustomed to a laughing, kidding Josey, and this new intense, rather spiritual talk was unnerving. “A calling? Out of nowhere? Just like that?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was the strangest thing. One minute I was in the classroom just going about my business and the next minute—” She broke off again to take a ladylike sip of her diet cola. “I guess it’s just that I want to teach my own child. Everything, not just math and reading. I can’t really put into words how I feel. Just trust me that this is very real.”

Nate didn’t really know the correct response to all this, but Josey appeared to be waiting for some kind of reaction. All he could think of to say was, “Are you going to a sperm bank?”

“Am I going…?” Josey finally focused on his face. She wrinkled her forehead, almost as if she didn’t understand the question. “No, I’m not going to a sperm bank. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but that’s not what I want.” She leaned forward, and her long gold medallion dangled dangerously close to her soda glass. “You haven’t heard a word I said.”

“I heard every word you said,” Nate countered, reaching over and pushing her glass a safe distance away. “I just don’t get what you’re saying. Call me stupid, but…”

“I want the whole thing, Nate. I want a family. I want kids—and a husband. The whole package. A family.”

He leaned in also, so that they were nearly nose to nose. When he spoke again, it was with a lowered voice so the neighboring diners, at tables crowded close together on the patio, couldn’t hear. “Since when, Josey? You love being single. How many times have we gone out to dinner and you waxed philosophical about how impossible it must be to find the right man and so you weren’t going to bend over backward to do it? I’ll tell you. A hundred times. At least.”

“So what?” Her voice turned stubborn, almost rebellious. “So what, Nate? I can’t change my mind?”

“You can change your mind, sure you can, but this is a complete about-face. It’s weird.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you think my dreams are weird.”

Just as Nate opened his mouth the waitress arrived with their dinners on a tray. When she placed the huge colorful salad down, Josey grabbed her fork and dug in. This great revelation of hers certainly didn’t affect her appetite any, Nate was relieved to see. The real Josey is still in there somewhere.

But just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt a prickling in his chest. He wasn’t being fair. He wasn’t a woman. And he wasn’t Josey. Even if he couldn’t understand ever wanting to have children, it wasn’t right to belittle what she wanted. Maybe this new desire of hers was just as confusing to her as it was to him. It seemed to come from nowhere, and she definitely was taking it seriously. He was her friend—her best friend. He owed it to her to be supportive.

He took a bite of steak, chewed it slowly and swallowed, all the while looking at her. She appeared to be concentrating hard on the task of spearing a tomato.

“Josey.”

She glanced up at him, her face a picture of embarrassment, and Nate was ashamed for possibly having been the one to cause it. He never wanted her to think she couldn’t tell him things, personal things.

“I’m sorry. Listen,” he said, grabbing her hand so she couldn’t ignore him by taking another forkful of lettuce. “It’s just surprising, that’s all. Kids, husband… I think…I think it’s wonderful. I really do. I wish you luck.”

“You do?” she asked, her voice catching before she asked again. “You really do?”

Nate wondered why she was getting so emotional. Although he would prefer her not to be angry with him, she certainly didn’t need his approval. But he granted it anyway. “You know I do. You’re my friend, and I’ll do anything I can to make sure you’re happy.”

Josey dropped her fork onto the glass table and turned her hand over to clasp his. A huge grin spread across her face, bright under the darkening sky. “I’m so glad you said that! You have no idea.”

“I meant it.”

She smiled even wider. “Good, good,” she said, bouncing a little in her seat. Nate grinned, too, at Josey’s old, enthusiastic, bubbly self.

“Okay, Nate,” she stated, letting go of his hand and settling back in her seat. “Now I can get to what I really wanted to ask you tonight. I need your help.”

“Sure, with what?”

“With my plan, of course. You are the perfect one to help me get this plan off the ground. I need you.”

Nate had been nodding, but he suddenly stopped.

I need you….

She couldn’t be saying…no. No.

She needed him? For—for starting a family, she needed his help? That meant— No, it couldn’t be.

Panic was starting to swell in his chest.

And here was Josey, staring at him with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

Okay, he admitted silently, in all the time he and Josey had been friends, there were possibly two times he had looked at Josey’s beautiful face and let his gaze roam over her sexy body and thought about what she’d be like, look like, feel like in bed. He furrowed his brow. Maybe it was more like three times. And now, right this minute, she was probably thinking that very same thing about him. Thinking about making love. Having his baby.