time he’d been back, Edward had already related a handful of them—a few he hadn’t been able to share with children at all, and one that he’d previously told but in a version properly sanitized for young ears.
“So you married Ben,” he said.
“I did,” Julie said.
At that, CJ nodded, not sure what else to say. After chewing thoughtfully on a carrot stick, he said, “It looks like you’re doing alright.”
There was a hint of a smile on Julie’s lips. “I’m doing just fine, CJ. Ben’s a great guy.”
“That’s great.”
“Thank you,” Julie said.
CJ caught Daniel Wolfowitz looking his way once or twice and decided that, even without meeting him, he didn’t like the man. And he had no legitimate reason for that except for a feeling in his stomach—one very unlike the sensation that had prompted him to pile more food on his plate than he would be able to eat.
“When is Graham holding a press conference to capitalize on Sal’s death?”
“Soon,” Julie answered. “If his little sycophant had had his way, it would have been on the steps of the funeral home, but I think he’s doing the tasteful thing and holding off for a few days.”
CJ had to chuckle at that, but then decided to shift the conversation away from family matters. “So why aren’t you a veterinarian?”
Julie’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe you remember that.” She shook her head and then brushed a lock of brown hair away from her eye, and for just a moment, CJ thought he saw a sad smile flit across her lips. “I got pregnant the summer before I was supposed to start college. So I got married instead.”
What saved CJ from saying something dumb was the large bite of potato salad he had in his mouth. Instead he chewed and nodded thoughtfully. Once he’d swallowed, he said, “Is there some law against mothers earning veterinary degrees?”
That earned a laugh. “Not that I’m aware of. But you try going to college while taking care of a baby, and with your husband working twelve hours a day.”
“If I try it, can I do it without the husband part?” CJ said.
Julie hit him in the arm, and his plate wobbled a little. He recalled then how she’d often hit him in the arm back when they were dating.
“You’re just as annoying now as when we were in school together,” she said.
“Probably more.”
CJ saw Julie’s husband on the other side of the room, surrounded by a trio of men, and it looked as if all of them were having a good time, with Ben the center of attention.
“You married a Baxter anyway,” he said, and even he wasn’t sure what he meant by it.
Julie followed his gaze and let her own linger for a moment. When she turned back to CJ, she was smiling.
“He’s a good man,” she said. Then she reached over and grabbed a cookie from the table, biting into it and chewing with an appreciative look. Gesturing with the rest of the cookie, she said, “You know, it wasn’t easy for him either. He had a scholarship to go to Syracuse.”
“Really?” CJ asked, not intending to sound as surprised as he did.
“He’s a lot smarter than people think,” Julie said. If she was offended, she didn’t show it.
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Because of the baby, he took a job at a car dealership right out of high school.”
“And now he owns the place,” CJ said, meaning it as a compliment.
“Two places.” Pride was evident in her voice, and it seemed as if she would say more, but instead she nibbled a bit off the end of her cookie. Then, with something like a sad smile, she said, “I know that sometimes he thinks about how things might have turned out if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.”
“What would he have studied?” CJ asked.
“Forensic anthropology.”
Wow, CJ mouthed, but Julie didn’t see it. She had turned so that she could see her husband, still holding court on the other side of the room.
“You know, he’s never once made me feel as if it was my fault,” she said. “Not once.”
CJ wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t anticipated the conversation taking such a personal turn. He decided on something related but innocuous.
“You have two kids, right? What are their names?”
“Jack and Sophie.”
CJ nodded. He liked both names. He didn’t think Sophie was a common one. He and Janet had never gotten around to the business of choosing names—beyond the one for the dog, and that had been entirely