A Perfect Pair

“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.