Dear Life(114)

“That’s fair,” I answer a seething Amanda. “Can we talk?”

“Why on earth would I want to talk to you? Do you know what you did to that girl? You broke her heart . . . you, you jerk face.”

And yes, they are definitely related. But even with the insult, the meaning of it all is what burns me. I broke her heart. Breaking my Snowflake’s heart, fuck, it destroys me because she deserves so much better than that, especially by me.

“Listen, Amanda. I know I’m not your favorite person—”

“You got that right.”

Sighing, I continue, “I’m not my favorite person either.”

“Well.” She leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. “At least we have something in common.”

“I think we have a lot more in common than you think.” Taking a deep breath, I get on with it. “I love her, Amanda. It took me a little bit to actually realize it, because as you put it so eloquently, I’m a jerk face, but I know it now and want to do something about it.” Need. To.

“What about that other girl with the long legs? Where does she stand?”

“Far away from me as possible. Nothing happened with her once I met Daisy. She’s done.”

“How can I believe you?”

I knew she was going to ask something like that, so I reach into my back pocket and pull out a menu. I hold it out to her and point to the top sandwich. “That’s how.”

Amanda takes a few minutes to read it and when she’s done, she plays it cool. I know this by the way her lip slightly quivers but everything else stays still.

“Okay, what do you want from me?”

Just what I was hoping for. “I need to be re-invited to your wedding.”

Lips pressed together, she takes a moment to decide, then she nods her head. “I think we can make that happen.”

JACE

“Is she in there?” I ask Ethan who just popped out of a corporate suite, freshly showered after the game we just won. Going three for four and hitting a homerun has lifted my spirits and hope for the next phase in this plan. I just hope it goes as well as the game did.

“She is.” Ethan looks toward the door and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know if this is going to work.”

“It has to.” I lean in to Ethan so June and Alex, who are a few feet behind, can’t hear me. “It’s our only chance of making sure June and Alex are protected.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

He pats me on the shoulder in a brotherly manner and steps aside, giving me access to the room.

Stay calm, don’t yell, and whatever she says, speak rationally. Yelling is going to get you nowhere.

Palms clenched, I pad across the floor. Opening the door to the suite, I’m greeted by a grand view of the stadium, a well-manicured dining space, and a lonesome Rebecca sitting in one of the high-top seats. When she turns to see who walked in, her face falls flat.

Looking around, she asks, “What are you doing here?”

This is it, Jace. You can handle this.

Speaking calmly, I ask, “May I sit down?”

“Sure . . .” She sounds skeptical.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I guess so.”

I prop my folded hands on the table and speak in calming tones. “When you came to my apartment to tell me you were pregnant and that you weren’t going to keep the baby, what was going through your mind?”

“What do you mean?” She shifts in her chair, leaning back and crossing her arms. She’s already on the defensive.

“What brought you to the point that you knew I was your only option?”

She shrugs and looks down at the ground. “I don’t know. I guess I was in a bad place. I wasn’t really sure how I would be able to provide for the baby. I wasn’t really ready to be a mom. I want to go back to school at some point, not just be a bartender for the rest of my life. It just seemed like too much.”

I nod. “I can understand that. Having a kid is a great responsibility, and if you’re not fully invested in raising that child, you’re only doing it a disservice. People should only be allowed to have children when they’re truly mentally ready, because being mentally healthy for your child is one of the best gifts you can give them besides love.”

“I agree. That’s why I went to you, because I knew I wasn’t all the way there.”

“That was very brave of you,” I add. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.” She sits up a little more now, engaged in our conversation—less defensive.

“What’s changed since then? Have you started school? Have you found a new place? Were you able to seek therapy to mentally prepare yourself for Hope?”

“Well . . ., no, but,” she pauses and thinks about it, “I have Ethan now.”

Gritting my teeth, I rein in the outburst that wants out with the mention of my best friend’s name. “He’s a good guy.”

“He is.”

“Ethan has the same job as I do, though. Right now it’s nice because we’re still in Arizona for our spring training games, but our season opener in Colorado is in a few days. If you get Hope back, how are you going to take care of her if you still have to go back to work? Are you ready to take care of an infant all by yourself, while Ethan is away?”