“This isn’t important,” Jane said, staring intently at him.“This isn’t what we wanted to talk about.”
“But I want to know about the window.”
“Fine.If you think that’s more important, be my guest.”
Billie looked from one to the other, her eyes getting wider and wider.“Are you guys fighting?”
“No,” he said grimly.
“Yes,” Jane answered, picking up her napkin and snapping it open.“Adam is easily distracted.Do you want to talk about the window or should we discuss something more relevant?”
“You’re right,” he said, wondering how he’d been moved off the subject at hand.“Billie, we’ll deal with the shed another time.”He took her hand.The short blunt nails needed cleaning.She had a cut at the base of her thumb.A child’s hand, small and full of promise.His child’s hand.“Billie—”
“Yes?”She looked up.“Do you have tickets to the Triple A game?”
He smiled.“No, honey, I don’t.”
“Can I have another roll?”
He pushed the plate toward her.She pulled her hand free and grabbed for the sweet.
“I can’t,” he said, leaning back in his seat.“I don’t know what to say, or how to handle this situation.”He looked at Jane.“Any suggestions?”
“I’ll try,” she said.“I’ve had longer to think about this than you.”
“Think about what?”Billie asked, her mouth full.
“Honey, I’ve got a secret.”
Billie looked up at her mother.“A good one?”
“Yes.”Jane smiled weakly and brushed her daughter’s bangs out of her eyes.“You’ve always asked me about a father.Where yours was.Why he couldn’t be with us.”
Adam swallowed.Here it comes.What would Billie say?
Billie set her roll on the plate and licked her fingers.“You know where my dad is?”
“Adam is your father, Billie.Your real father.I—” Jane cleared her throat.“He didn’t know until yesterday.We wanted to tell you together.”
Billie glanced at him, her eyes as big as the softball she carried in her shorts pocket.When he offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, she dropped her chin to her chest and stared at her lap.“Did you know?”
Jane nodded.“Yes,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears.“I knew Adam was your father.”
Billie looked up at him.He tried to read her expression, but couldn’t.“Do you want to be my father?”
“More than anything.”
She pushed her plate away.“It’s okay, I guess.”
“Good.”He started to lean forward to hug her, but she slipped off the seat and picked up her baseball cap.
“I’m going to go play ball.”She stopped by the back door.“Okay, Mom?”
“Fine.”
“What about church?”
“We’ll try to go tonight.”
