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A quick sideways glance showed him her frown. Matt focused on the white minivan driving past. A thirty-something short-haired man was driving, a blond woman in the passenger seat. A not-too-tiny hand was plastered to one of the back windows facing them. He’d seen at least one car seat, as well. A family going out to dinner after work?
Or maybe to some kind of ball game? Had that hand in the back belonged to a boy? Was he an aspiring athlete? And if so, did he have any real talent, or were the next few years going to be a real struggle for him?
“What kind of problems are you having?” Phyllis’s question, which sounded almost reluctant, reminded Matt that he wasn’t sitting there alone. And shouldn’t, for the moment, be living vicariously.
“I wouldn’t call them problems,” he was quick to assure her. Nothing so complicated as a problem. “But I’m not an irresponsible man.”
“I never thought you were.”
He was glad to hear that. Not that it should matter.
“So, the fact that I’ve fathered a child and am doing absolutely nothing to take responsibility for it isn’t going down right with me.”
“But I’m not letting you do anything.”
“I know.”
“So the choice is out of your hands.”
He pinned her with a hard stare. “Is it?”
Rocking back and forth, her feet leaving the step, then gently touching again, Phyllis nodded. “Of course it is. It’s not as if there’s anything for you to do. Any role to play. We hardly know each other.”
“I’m the baby’s father.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
His stomach dropped. “It’s a boy?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced at him and then away. “That was a generic ‘he.”’
“Oh.” Good. For a second there, thinking the baby actually had a sex had made it all seem so much more real. So much more threatening.
He knew that made no sense. Of course the baby had a sex. Whether or not its unprepared parents knew what it was.
“The point is,” Phyllis said, still hugging her knees, still rocking slightly, “your involvement here is only biological. In the big picture, that doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Relief flooded through Matt, almost bringing forth the grin he’d suppressed earlier. Almost, but not quite. A strange, inexplicable sadness got in the way.
“I can’t just turn my back on this.”
“You have no choice.” She started to rock harder.
“There are always choices.” Some much harder to face than others.
“We agreed I’d do this on my own.” Her voice had a definite edge to it.
“I know.”
“But you’re reneging on that?”
“No.” He thought about the past weeks, wondered how he could possibly explain them to her. To himself. Wondered why he even wanted to try.
“So you’re going to let me do this alone, but you’d like to be a father to the baby?” She’d lost some of her edge but was still hugging herself tightly. He thought she might be cold, in spite of the thick velour sweater she was wearing.
The air was definitely cooler now that the sun was losing its intensity.
It really wouldn’t be good for her to catch a chill.
