Jane took it.
“Where do you want me?”Billie asked.
“The hallway.Facing the back wall.”
Billie shuffled forward slowly, out of the living room, then down the hall until she reached the far wall.She sank to the floor and stared at the blank space.“How long?”
Jane glanced at her watch.“Ten minutes.”
Billie leaned her forehead against the wall.“I really didn’t mean to do it, Mom.”
“A time-out means no talking.”
“Sorry.”
Parenting was tough, Jane thought as she moved back into thekitchen and set the timer for ten minutes.The punishment hurt her as much as her daughter, but Billie wouldn’t believe that for about fifteen or twenty more years.After sweeping up the broken glass, she continued with the lunch.She finished the last sandwich when the timer went off.There was a shuffling noise in the hall.
Billie appeared at the doorway.Tears created two clean streaks down her freckled cheeks.Her lower lip thrust out as she swallowed.
Automatically Jane held out her arms.Billie flung herself against her mother and held on tightly.“I still love you,” Jane murmured against her hair.“You’ll always be my favorite girl.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Billie said, then hiccuped.“I didn’t mean to break anything.”
It was the stress of moving, Jane thought as she blinked away her own tears.Usually punishment didn’t faze Billie, except that she found the time-outs boring.But sometimes, like today, they affected her deeply.With her bubbly personality and outgoing nature, it was easy to forget that she was still just an eight-year-old little girl.
“Let’s forget about it and eat lunch.Okay?”
“Okay.”Billie raised herself up on tiptoe and gave her a salty kiss.“I love you, Mommy.”
“And I love you.”
Jane gave her a last squeeze and pushed her toward the table.Billie looked at the salad and then at her.A tentative smile tugged one corner of her mouth.“I’m not fooled by the clown face.”
“But you’ll eat it.”
Billie stuck a raisin in her mouth.“Maybe.”
Jane poured lemonade for both of them and chuckled.Despite the mishaps, parenting was worth it.She felt sorry for people who couldn’t have children in their lives.The ones who were infertile or never married or—
The pitcher slipped from her grasp and she barely caught it.What about the people who didn’t know they had children?Guilt swept over her; the strong wave threatened to pull her under.
Adam.He had a child he didn’t know about.Apparently Billie had already taken it upon herself to get better acquainted withher own father.Oh, please God, what was she supposed to do about the mess she’d made of everything?She had to tell him.And soon.But how?What would he say?What would Billie say?She preached that honesty was the best policy, but she’d told the biggest lie of all.What was she going to do now?
Billie glanced at her.“Aren’t you eating?”
“What?”Jane stared down at her full plate.“Of course.”She took a bite of her sandwich.
“What are we going to do until we can go swimming?”Billie asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, we can’t go in the water until our food has digested.We’ll get cramps and drown.”She made gagging noises and clutched her throat.“I’m drowning.Save me, save me.Ahhhgg!”
“We could walk around town.”
“Can we visit Charlene?”
“Not today.”Jane thought about those truckers due to arrive at any time.“Maybe we could—”
