Half of Me

by J. M. Paul

  “Not when I’m mostly doing it for myself.” I adjust the throw blanket, so it covers Jacob as well. “It’ll take my mind off the fact that I don’t have anything better to do with my day. And holidays are usually pretty slow at the hospital, so I’ll get to snuggle on babies my entire shift. That’s a present in itself.”

  Jacob kisses the crown of my head. “Well, Jagger usually wakes up at the crack of dawn to see what Santa’s brought him, and then we go to Juliana’s parents’ for an early lunch. At night, we order Chinese food for dinner and watch movies. You’re welcome to join us for any or all of those.”

  His offer causes delight to radiate throughout my body, and I lean into him. “That means a lot. But it’s your first Christmas without Juliana. Don’t you think it’d be better if I wasn’t around?”

  “No doubt, it’ll be a hard day, but you helped make Halloween and Thanksgiving bearable. The kids have grown attached to you, and it only seems right that you’d be a part of everything. It’ll make it easier. On all of us.”

  I raise my eyes to his and grasp his hand in mine. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER 19

  * * *

  LANGUAGE OF THE HEART

  “Let me see it.” I plop down on the couch, next to Camila.

  Jacob has to work late tonight, and Juliana’s parents have the kids for the weekend since they were on vacation this past week, so the girls and I are taking over Jacob’s house. With his permission, of course.

  “See what?” Camila perches her feet on the coffee table and leans back into the cushions.

  “Jos, do you want red or white?” Maya calls.

  “Red,” I answer Maya, who’s in the kitchen with Liz. “Your baby belly.” I mimic grabby hands to Camila.

  “It’s right here.” She points to her swollen stomach before she rests her hand against it.

  “No, I want to see it. Lift up your shirt, please?” I beg.

  Camila’s been wonderful about letting me be as involved as I want in her pregnancy since she knows I’ll never experience one myself. She lets me rub her stomach whenever I want, lets me ask as many questions as I can think to ask, and lets me help her pick out nursery furniture. She’s even invited me to doctor’s appointments, which I’ve declined so far because I believe there are some things she and Ben should do alone.

  “You’re weird.” Camila moves her hand to the hem of her shirt and lifts it up to just under her breasts to appease me.

  She’s definitely not smuggling a basketball under her shirt.

  “Do you mind?” I ask with my hands already poised over her rounded belly.

  “Since when do you ask?” She gives me a tired smile. “I just ate, so she’s doing her little happy dance. It should be a good show.”

  I rest my hands on her warm skin, and I feel Camila’s mothering spirit wrap around us both. Closing my eyes, I breathe in her soft baby-powder scent and relax my hands on her. She’s right; the baby is moving a lot—a jab here, a swish there. It’s a miracle, and I can’t help the ginormous smile that takes over my face. I picture tiny legs and arms pushing outward to find more room or pushing against the pressure I’m imposing on the baby’s already cramped living quarters.

  I stay that way for a long while, trying to absorb as much pregnancy glow as I can, before I open my eyes and jolt myself back into the real world that will never hold this peace for me. Pregnancy is such an incredible, miraculous thing. It happens to fortunate women all the time, all over the world, yet it never loses its excitement or wonder.

  How many mothers take the time to soak up all the small moments of pregnancy the way I soak up Camila’s?

  Camila once told me she had an appreciation for all the steps of mothering that she didn’t think she would have if it wasn’t for me. And, for that, I love her that much more.

  A hand or foot pushes against me again, and I laugh softly. It overwhelms me every time to think that there’s a small person growing inside Camila’s body. She’s hard at work, creating a miracle, like it isn’t the most fascinating event in life.

  I brush at a tear tracing down my cheek, still smiling with my eyes closed. Leaning my head against Camila’s shoulder, I keep my hands on her stomach as I soak in every second I can, and I file it away in an empty compartment in my heart.

  “Aren’t you just torturing yourself, Jos?” Liz asks when she walks back into the living room.

  My eyes pop open and pin Liz to the spot. “Just because the chance to do this myself was stolen from me doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it through someone else. Especially when she’s being so kind, gracious, and selfless about letting me experience it right along with her.”

  Camila moves her hand over mine and squeezes gently. When I lift my attention to hers, tears swim in her eyes.

  I love you, she mouths to me.

  Just like that, the anger that was slowly building in my chest at Liz’s comment dissipates, and I’m sucked back into my friend’s baby bubble. That’s why Camila is my person, and she always will be. We don’t need words between us because we speak our own language with our hearts.

  “What did I miss?” Maya’s energy bounces into the room.

  She holds out my glass of wine, and I regretfully move my hands away from Camila’s baby bump.

  “Well, you might be able to procreate, but as for now, you can’t drink this, and I can.” I tip my wine glass in her direction and then wink as I lift it to my lips.

  “I’d trade you in a second, amiga.” Camila takes the water Liz offered her.

  “I know you would, and that’s why I love you so hard.” I kiss her on the cheek and then stand. “What do you guys want to do? Watch movies, play games?”

  “I’m hungry,” Camila announces to the room.

  “Dude, you said you just ate.” Maya blinks at her with wide eyes.

  “Dude, the baby doesn’t care.” Camila points to the definitely-not-a-basketball bulge bouncing under her shirt. “And don’t question a pregnant lady.”

  “You’re going to get so fat.” Liz slinks into the chair across the room.

  Camila glances between Maya and me. “Why do we keep her around?”

  I think it’s supposed to be a joke, but she’s pregnant and hormonal, which equals bitchy a lot of times in her case, and it comes out that way.

  “Because she’s rich.” Maya slides into the chair with Liz.

  “Her daddy’s rich,” Camila corrects.

  “Same diff.” Maya bobs her head back and forth. “She gets us into clubs we can’t get ourselves into.” Maya scrunches up her face and taps Liz’s nose when she turns toward her.

  “Screw you, bitches. You love me, and you know it.” Liz raises her full glass of wine in the air, like she’s toasting, and then takes a large gulp.

  “To being bitches.” I walk over and clink my glass with Maya’s.

  When I pivot toward Camila, her lips are snarling at her water bottle.

  “A couple of more months, and you can hold that baby in one arm while you clutch a glass of wine in the other.” I smile.

  “Psh.” Camila struggles against the couch and slowly lifts her growing form. “Until then, I’m going to bury my sorrows in chocolate.” She waddles into the kitchen.

  “So”—Liz focuses her attention on me—“what’s up with you and Jake?”

  So, we’re going there.

  “What do you mean?” I sit on the couch.

  “You were supposed to be his temporary nanny, and it’s been months. That’s not temporary, and now, you’re living with him.” She glances at Maya with an arched brow.

  Maya sips her wine while gazing at me.

  “My house burned, Liz, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. What was I supposed to do?” I pull my legs under me and gulp down my fruity adult goodness.

  “It seems a little shady.” Liz flips her auburn hair behind her shoulder. It hits Maya in the face, and she spits and puckers, like she just swallowed a sour apple.

  “What are you
trying to say?” I pull my cell from my jeans pocket and set it on the cushion next to me.

  “All I’m saying is, it’s suspicious.” She bats her eyelashes.

  “Well”—I bat my eyelashes right back and one-up her by giving a little shake of my head—“I don’t know what to tell you, but there’s nothing more than what I said.”

  Camila comes back, carrying a container of chocolate chip cookies, a package of Oreos, a box of Pop-Tarts, and a bag of chocolate chips. She stops and glares at all three of our gaping countenances. “If you say anything, I will cut all of you into tiny pieces.”

  Maya, Liz, and I eye each other and then bust out laughing. Camila chuckles as well and spits crumbs out of her mouth.

  “Oh, crap. Sorry. I’ll clean that up.” She drops her stash on the coffee table and falls back into the cushions next to me. “Except I can barely see my feet, let alone get down on my hands and knees.”

  “Poor Ben.” Maya chortles.

  Camila flips her off.

  I wave away Camila’s concern. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it later. Plus, the cleaners are coming tomorrow.”

  “You make fun of me because my daddy’s rich, but it appears you’re trying to land yourself a sugar daddy.” Liz swings her arm around to indicate Jacob’s beautiful, extravagant home.

  “Quit being such a whore.” Maya smacks Liz on the leg. “She’s not like that, and you know it. Besides, it’s not exactly like Jos needs the money.”

  Maya’s referring to the generous inheritance my parents left me. I appreciate the fact that my education is paid for and that I don’t have the normal hardships of college students or peers my age, but I’d give it all back to have my parents still here with me. Despite their being tepid toward me for most of my existence, I loved them and could use their guidance in many areas of my life. Especially now.

  “Let’s focus our attention back to where it needs to be.” Camila shoves an entire cookie in her mouth and chomps away without reluctance.

  I can’t help the grin that twists my mouth. “And that’s where?”

  Camila narrows her eyes because she knows I’m giggling on the inside at her eating habits. “Back to you and Jake.”

  “Oh God.” I down the rest of my wine and head to the kitchen for more.

  “Just bring the bottles out here!” Maya yells.

  I fill my glass, take a large drink, and pour it to the top again. Grabbing the bottles along with a couple of bags of chips, I walk back out to the three women who will probably ruin my life in the next hour or so.

  “Okay”—I drop the bags of chips in Liz’s and Maya’s laps, set the wine bottles on the table next to them, and plop back onto the couch—“lay it on me. What do you guys want to know?”

  “Oh. Me first.” Liz frantically waves her arm.

  I roll my eyes. “Shoot.”

  Her mouth slowly tips up. “Have you guys fucked?”

  “My baby’s virgin ears.” Camila places her hands on her stomach, like she’s blocking sound.

  Maya snorts. “Like you don’t swear like a sailor.”

  Camila shrugs. “True. Proceed.”

  “You and Jake. Spill it,” Liz prompts.

  “No, we haven’t had sex. It’s not like that between us. The whole employer-employee relationship and all.” I shake my head and rotate the goblet in my hand.

  “You mean to say, you haven’t thought about jumping his bones?” Liz’s tone is suspicious.

  “Lord knows I have, and I don’t live with him.” Camila wiggles her eyebrows.

  My mouth drops open. “You’re happily married, Cam.”

  “A girl can window-shop as long as she doesn’t enter to purchase the merchandise.” Her eyes gleam. “Plus, pregnancy makes me horny as hell, and I think I broke Ben.”

  Liz and I bust out laughing, and Maya almost spits out her mouthful of cabernet.

  “Seriously though, give us the goods.” Camila bumps me with her shoulder.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Is there attraction between us? Yes. Have things skidded slightly off the professional course a few times? Sure. But that’s it.” I shrug. “There’s nothing else to tell.”

  “Little Miss Bullshit.” Maya points her finger at me and wiggles it around. “Your words are telling us one thing, but your face is telling us something else.” She slightly leans forward. “We need the deets because, if you can’t tell us…”

  “Who are you gonna tell?” Liz and Camila finish in unison.

  “You can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, My,” I say.

  “Well, I don’t know what your problem is. I get along with me just fine.” She sticks her hand out, like she’s examining her nails, and then smirks.

  I release a breath that vibrates my lips. “There was one time—”

  “There always is,” Camila interrupts.

  I give her the evil eye. “When Jagger got sick and wanted us both to sleep with him.”

  “Oh. This oughta be good.” Liz nestles back into the chair and cradles her wine in her hands.

  “I woke up the next morning, and it was just me and Jacob in bed. I tried to sneak out without waking Jacob, but it didn’t work. He was wrapped around me, and…well, he was awake and unwilling to let me leave. Things got a little heated until Jagger walked in.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Camila sits forward as much as she can with her baby bump. “You mean to tell me, you got busy in that little boy’s bed?” Her eyebrows almost jump off her face.

  “We didn’t get busy.” I defend our actions. “We just got…carried away.”

  “How carried away?” Maya yawns.

  “There was some touching.” I rub at my cheek.

  “Above or below clothing?” Liz questions.

  “Uh, kind of both.” I tug at my ear.

  “What do you mean, kind of both?” Maya sits up straighter.

  My cheeks begin to heat. “He started on top of my clothes, worked his way under my leggings, and touched me through my underwear.”

  “This sounds kind of hot. Innocent in a naughty way.” Camila’s voice goes slightly husky.

  “Ew.” Liz scrunches her nose.

  Camila points at her smuggled basketball. “Hello? Horny pregnant woman here with a worn-out husband.”

  “So, that’s it?” Maya’s dark eyes are unwavering.

  “We kissed once before that, but that’s all.” I exhale and rest my head against the back of the couch. “He hasn’t really made another move on me since.”

  “Hmm.” Camila reaches for the Pop-Tarts.

  She opens a pouch and offers me one, but I shake my head.

  “Hmm, what?” I question Camila.

  “I’m just wondering why Jake hasn’t made another advance. Do you think almost being caught by his kid freaked him out?” Camila chomps on her pastry.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” I finish my second glass of wine and set the empty glass on the table. I bite the inside of my cheek and frown.

  “What is it, Jos?” Maya’s voice is low.

  When I glance at her, I know she can read my expression, and she knows that something else is worrying me.

  “It’s stupid.” I shake my head.

  Camila takes a break from shoving a piece of the frosted rectangle into her mouth to squeeze my hand. “It’s not stupid if it’s on your mind.”

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling and pull at the collar of my shirt. “I wonder if he’s not attracted to me because I’m not a real woman anymore.” Running my hand through my hair, I grip it at the roots and pull slightly. “I can’t get pregnant, I don’t have ovaries or a uterus, and I take fake hormones. And, while I know that doesn’t physically make a difference on the outside, it can change how a man thinks about or sees me.”

  “Jos, sweetie, how long have you been feeling this way?”

  Camila grabs the hand that’s lodged in my hair and pulls it to rest on her belly, so I can feel the miracle kicking inside her. I’m upset, on the bri
nk of tears, and she knows the connection will calm me.

  “Since surgery,” I answer honestly.

  There’s no sound, except for the ticktock of a clock on the wall in the family room and the creaking of the house settling around us.

  “You have to stop feeling that way,” Liz says softly. “I know it’s much easier said than done, but you’re a beautiful woman, Joslyn. Absolutely stunning, which makes me secretly hate you just a little bit.” She pinches her finger and thumb together.

  We quietly laugh, giving her what she was after.

  “And any man in his right mind wouldn’t give two shits if you didn’t have all of your God-given parts.” Liz places a hand on her chest. “It’s admirable to watch you go through such a horrible ordeal and remain strong and positive throughout the whole process. There’s a great deal of people who could learn from your example. What this experience has taught you and who it has made you on the inside…” She shakes her head. “I can only hope to be half the woman you are if I’m ever struck by tragedy. Because, yes, it’s a tragedy that someone as wonderful as you can’t have children and add more loveliness and joy to the world.”

  Camila, Maya, and I just sit, blinking at Liz. She’s always been the airhead of the group, the one who never takes anything seriously.

  Until she goes and says that.

  “What?” Liz gives us all a knowing look. “I’m awesome and smart. It’s just easier to let you all think I’m a ditz.” She smirks.

  “Thank you, Liz. You have no idea how much that means to me.” I tip my head as my eyes glisten.

  “Well, it’s true. I’m a bitch, but I only say what I mean.” She winks.

  And the moment is ruined.

  Our conversation turns to lighter topics until everyone’s plans for Christmas comes up.

  “What are you doing, Jos?” Maya reaches her hand into the open bag of barbecue chips.

  “I volunteered to pull a double at the hospital.” I stand to stretch out my back.

  We’ve been sitting and chatting for a couple of hours. When I eye the clock and see it’s almost midnight, I’m surprised Jacob isn’t home already.