He’d heard her go upstairs, but had then heard a soft whooshing noise.Had she slid down the banister to trick him?He crept along the hallway, stepping on the edge of the carpet to avoid the creaking boards.In the parlor, he checked behind the sofa and inside the armoire.A slight breeze blew in from the rainy night.He stepped closer to the window to close the shutters.A flash of white caught his attention.She’d tucked herself in the corner, behind the wing chair.He took another step toward the window.Billie huddled deeper into the shadows and kept her eyes closed, as if her not seeing him would mean he couldn’t see her.
He was about to speak her name, when he realized it would spoil the game if he found her so easily.He closed the shutter, turned his back on her and walked out of the room.
Several minutes later, after combing the house, he called out to concede his defeat.Billie emerged from the parlor.
“You walked right by me,” she said triumphantly.Her brown eyes glowed.“I was in the corner.”
He pretended dismay.“I thought I heard you go upstairs.”
“I did, but then I changed my mind.”She covered her eyes.“Okay, your turn.”
They continued to play for almost an hour.Adam called it quits and started to fix cocoa.Billie turned on the TV in the other room.He’d just taken the milk off the stove when there was a crash.He set down the pot and sprinted toward the noise.
Billie stood in the hallway.Beside her, a small table lay on its side, along with the smashed remains of a vase.He crouched down beside the mess.On top of the broken china rested her softball.He picked it up and carefully wiped away the glass.Now what?He wanted to go get one of his child rearing books and read the chapter that covered this, but there wasn’t time.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Billie said, thrusting out her lower lip.
He raised one eyebrow.“I don’t see anyone else here.”
“I wasn’tthrowingit.It slipped.”She planted her hands on her hips.“I’mnotin trouble.”
“Are you allowed to play with your softball indoors?”he asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes.”
“Billie?”
“No.”She hung her head.
“You knew the rules and you broke them.”
“You gonna tell my mom?”
“Yes.”Why couldn’t Jane be here now?What was he supposed to do?He couldn’t bring himself to spank Billie.So how did he punish her?A vague thought passed through his mind.Something about time-outs and—“I want you to sit in the corner for twenty minutes,” he said, hoping he was doing the right thing.
She stared up at him, her expression outraged.“No way.”
“Yes, way.Now.”He took her by the shoulder and guided her to a corner in the dining room.He pulled out a chair and slid it behind her.
“Sit.”
“I’m not gonna stay here.You can’t do this.You’re not my mom.”
Her words hurt, he acknowledged, but that didn’t change a thing.“You’re right.I’m your father.You’ve disobeyed and now you must face the consequences.”
“You can’t make me.”
He looked at her.Slowly Billie lowered herself into the chair.He pushed it until the edges touched the wall.She bounced her feet on the rung.“I’m not going to stay here.”
“Then you’ll have to be punished for that, as well.It’s your choice.”
She turned her head away from him.
He left the room.His heart pounded in his chest and his palms were damp.Was he doing the right thing?Was he scarring her for life?
He cleaned up the glass then put the milk back on the stove.The time passed slowly.He heard Billie hitting the toe of her athletic shoes against the wall.He wanted to tell her to stop, but wasn’t sure of all the rules for a time-out.
When the twenty minutes were up, he walked into the dining room.Billie sat hunched in the chair.“You may get up now.”
