Fake Married to My Best Friend’s Daddy by Sofia T Summers
Jessica
It was a shame that Adrian couldn’t stay for the party. Looking into his sky-blue eyes, the thought just popped into my head. He was always so friendly and polite. He could carry a conversation easily, and I knew he would’ve gotten along with the people who were invited. Still, something kept my mouth shut. There in the driveway of Nicole and Jason’s home, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and remained silent.
The feeling nagged me as the party came alive. Adrian had done more than take care of Nicole’s kids. Based on the copious gold decorations that sparkled around the house, he’d been a one-man brigade, hanging gold streamers and moving furniture like his life depended upon it.
Admiring the spectacle and the generous array of food and drinks, I didn’t know if I deserved all this fuss. This was even more than the retirement party I’d planned for my old boss. I loved seeing my fifty-some friends and co-workers enjoying themselves, but I told Nicole I would’ve been fine with just having a girl’s day.
She’d become so busy with her baby, while trying to do some freelance work as a writer. I’d hardly seen much of her the last few weeks. When I did, it was usually to spend time with Lottie. I loved my quality time with that little sweetheart, but she couldn’t replace her mother.
In many ways, Nicole was like the little sister I’d always wanted. I had begged and begged for my parents to get me a little sister when I was little, not knowing that children weren’t so easily procured. I was over the moon when my parents told me I was getting a little sibling, but I crashed back down to earth when I learned that the baby was going to be a boy. Four years old and entirely unaware of how babies worked, I cried my confused heart out, telling my mother she’d picked the wrong one.
Sam was twenty-three now and going to pharmacy school in Baltimore. His tufts of baby hair were now an unkempt mess of golden-brown tendrils that paired well with his happy-go-lucky grin. He was good for a good laugh, and he was kind enough to drive down from Maryland for the party.
Pushing the hair from his eyes, I nagged Sam, “When was the last time you got a haircut? You’re starting to look a little too shaggy.”
“I don’t know,” he answered with a shrug and crooked grin. “Girls like my hair as it is.”
“What do they know?” I teased him, taking a sip of my Merlot. “When you’re sleeping on my couch tonight, I’m going to cut it all.”
Fussing with his messy bangs again, I tried to comb them away from his clean-shaven face, hoping I could see the amber eyes hiding under the mop of hair.
“Quit mothering me!” Sam laughed over the music, swatting me away.
“I won’t,” I insisted and decided to double down. “It looks like you have chocolate frosting on your chin.”
He didn’t, but that didn’t stop me from licking my thumb and attempting to rub my brother’s face. His tall lanky frame made it easy for Sam to evade me. He leaned back as I leaned forward, holding his beer securely as he refused to be touched.
“There are over fifty people here,” Sam fussed, still smiling. “Can’t you rub your spit on one of them?”
“No, it’s all for you, Sammy,” I joked, giving up after my third attempt.
Shaking his head, Sam declared, “I’m going to get another slider burger. Why don’t you go talk with some of your other friends?”
“Fine,” I surrendered, letting him wander back to the dining room.
People were perched everywhere I looked. Dining chairs lined the wall under Nicole’s family photographs. Around the decorated fireplace, people took up every seat they could. Among them was Nicole, perched at the end of her long blue sectional sofa.
“Do you like your party?” She exclaimed over the pop music playing.
“Yeah,” I assured her, settling down beside her. “This is all amazing. You’re too generous, Nicole.”
Dressed in a navy jumpsuit and a long braid, Nicole smoothed the soft cotton fabric of her pants and smiled.
“It’s all selfish really,” she joked. “I just wanted a reason to drink wine. I haven’t had anything alcoholic in almost ten months.”
Her grass-green eyes and grin looked a little glossy. Suddenly, I knew why. She’d nearly finished her generous pour of Reisling, and Nicole was already buzzed.
“Do you think you could stand another one?” I asked her, reaching out for her nearly empty cup. “I can get you one, Nicole.”
“No!” She insisted while smiling. “I can get it myself.”
Standing up, we weaved through the crowd of friendly faces before reaching the kitchen. People were sitting around the vintage kitchen table, while others crowded around the island where all the drinks were stacked. Nicole’s husband was playing bartender, opening up beer bottles and making small talk with the people around him. The sleeves of his blue striped shirt were rolled up to his elbows.
Jason Miller never really looked his age, but that was more true today than the first time I met him. Back then, he was all brooding looks and grumbling frustration. He didn’t look like the same man under the glow of the Moravian star lights that hung in the kitchen’s center.
Being a husband made Jason more open. Being a father softened him. His smiles were easier, and his shoulders looked light. However, he was strong enough that any load would be light in Jason’s eyes. It was nothing for him to pick up another case of wine and crack open a new bottle.
“Are you having fun, Jess?” He asked me while pouring a new glass of red wine.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Are you having fun playing bartender?”
He chuckled, “I might take it up as my new hobby.”
“Oh, you’re always saying that!” Nicole teased, prodding her husband’s broad chest. “What about that boat you brought home last fall?”
“I’m going to fix it up. Then, we’re going out on the river this summer,” he swore. “It’s still too cold right now, and Ben’s too young.”
“I guess,” she sighed.
“How is Ben doing these days?” I asked Nicole.
Her grin couldn’t get any wider. “He’s our sleepy little butterbean. His favorite things are napping, dozing, and cuddling.”
Nicole proceeded to pull her phone out of her bra and show me pictures of Ben from that very morning. He’d been all bundled up to go on an early morning walk in a pea-colored coat. In that shade of green, Ben honestly looked like a chunky butterbean. His gray eyes were wide as they stared up at the camera with curiosity from the safety of his stroller.
“Please send this to me,” I pleaded with Nicole.
She was happy to oblige. We propped ourselves against the ivory kitchen cabinets as we sipped wine and talked.
“Ben is going to need a godmother you know,” Nicole remarked. “Since you’re already Lottie’s godmother, would you consider being Ben’s too? There’s no rule against it.”
“You are aware I’m not the most religious person?”
Nicole laughed, “Neither are we, but it’s tradition. Besides, isn't it good to cover your bases or whatever?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s why you get baptized.”
“I don’t care,” Nicole admitted. “It’s what my family does, and I hope you’ll think about it. You’ll have plenty of time too. I probably won’t want to do it until he’s at least one.”
“I’ll consider it,” I promised.
As a child, I’d been one of those girls who liked playing house and being a mom to my six dolls. I doted upon the toys for hours on end. I didn’t care about having a husband though.
I just wanted to be a parent, but life had other plans.
After two years of irregular and sometimes painful periods, my gynecologist finally declared what was wrong with me. The memory of being sixteen and told I had a misshapen uterus was burned into my brain. I could still remember how I gripped my abuela’s hand tighter and forced myself not to cry until we got back to the car.
I could still adopt. I could have a surrogate, but I would never become a mother in the traditional way. After lots of tears, I’d resigned myself to that fact, but men I dated weren’t always as accepting. Guys were looking to settle down these days, but none of them wanted to bear the burden of my health issues. They were happy to call me beautiful and kiss me in the dark. They were content to sleep in my bed, but when things got too real… they disappeared.
There were a couple of men I thought might’ve been willing to go the distance, but none of them made it past the starting line. It hurt when they took off in the wrong direction. Still, I didn’t let those emotions impede my happiness.
I found contentment in places like my career and Nicole’s children. I also got my kicks mothering my little brother too. I’d probably adopt one day. Until then, I had every intention of loving Lottie and Ben like they were my own.
“Oh!” Nicole realized, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You need to make a wish!”
“My birthday isn’t until Wednesday,” I reminded her.
She didn’t listen. Instead, Nicole began fishing through a kitchen drawer. She found a loose bag of birthday candles and took just one. Grabbing my wrist, she pulled me through the kitchen into the dining room, while picking up a cupcake and sticking a magenta candle in it.
“I won’t make your guests sing,” she assured me, giggling like the tipsy girl she was. “But tonight’s special. You should catch the magic and make a wish!”
“What does that mean?” I laughed at her.
“Who cares!” Nicole beamed. “Just make a wish!”
She found a lighter and lit the pink candle in the lemon cupcake. I could smell the tangy sweetness of it as I drew my face closer. People in the room with us watched with eager smiles, some of them cheering me on. I didn’t know what I could wish for, but my heart knew.
Letting my eyes shut tight, I just wished for a man who might take a chance on me. I didn’t need fairy tales or perfection. I didn’t want them. I just wanted someone, anyone, who might feel that I’m worth the effort, even when I didn’t.
I had wonderful friends. My dream job was so close I could also taste it. If I could have everything else I ever desired, why did wanting a man who loved me feel like such a silly wish? Still, I sucked in a quick bit of air and puffed the candle out. I smiled as people around me clapped, and I took the cupcake from Nicole.
Taking a bite of the cupcake, the tart and sweet mingled in my mouth. It was the kind of flavor that put a smile on my face. Even if my wish never came true, I knew I had everything in my life that I needed to be content.
I just needed to keep convincing myself that contentment was enough.
