A Dad for Billie (28 page)

He shouldn’t have proposed. He realized that now. But he’d panicked about Jane hating him as Billie did. Marriage had seemed an easy solution. Jane had seen right through him.

He shook his head. Damn, she’d grown into a beautiful woman. Not just on the outside—as much as he adored her body close to his—but in her heart. She’d become independent and
capable. Those fears about losing herself in another person wouldn’t matter to her anymore. She’d conquered them. And him.

Give me strength, he prayed silently. And then asked—for what? How did he want to be strong? Did he want to walk away and not regret what he’d lost? Or was he looking for the power to follow in Jane’s footsteps and conquer his fears?

The front door creaked open. Adam half rose from his chair. But instead of Jane’s willowy form, he saw Billie stepping cautiously on the damp porch.

“Billie?”

She turned to look at him. The lamp above the door cast a harsh pool of light. The child looked pale and drawn.

“Adam? Is that you?” she whispered.

“Yes. What are you doing up?”

“Oh, Adam!”

She ran across the wooden floor and flung herself at him. He grabbed her as she leapt and pulled her next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, then sniffed. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Hush.” He held her tightly, her small head nestling against his chest. Inside, the pain around his heart eased some, allowing him to draw a full breath. She felt warm and soft in his arms, and smelled of sleep and little girl. He shut his eyes as a burning began behind the lids.

“I kept waking up,” she whispered, then tilted her head to look at him. “I had a dream that you really went away. I woke up scared. That’s why I came to find you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you didn’t go home.”

“My home is with you,” he said thickly, touching his cheek to hers.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Are you mad at me?” Her lower lip trembled.

“No, Billie.”

“You won’t go away like in my dream?”

“No,” he said, recognizing that they shared the same fears. “I promise I’ll stay with you.”

“Forever?”

It was like looking into a mirror, he thought, staring into eyes that were so much like his own. “Forever,” he answered.

Her arms tightened around his neck as she clung to him. “I love you, Dad.”

His heart filled with gratitude. “I love you, too.”

As he spoke the words, he knew they were true. She was his daughter; how could he not love her? He kissed her forehead and waited for the wave of fear. He’d said the words; now it was just a matter of time until she left him.

He held her until she fell asleep, then he picked her up and carried her back to her bed. After tucking the worn teddy bear under her arm, he pulled up the covers and whispered, “Good night.” She didn’t even stir. On his way out, he passed by Jane’s door. He thought about knocking, but she might be asleep as well. Certainly she wouldn’t want to see him. He crept down the stairs and out the front.

It wasn’t until he reached his own house that he realized there was no fear. He felt wonder that this child was his, and gratitude that he had the chance to be with her now. But no fear.

He stared up at the sky. Clouds drifted by, exposing the beauty of a starry night. He held on to Billie’s words, repeating them over and over like a prayer. “I love you, Dad,” she’d said with the sincerity of one who still believes. It gave him hope, he realized. Hope that there might be a way out of this after all.

*

Jane stared blurrily at the coffeepot and begged it to hurry. Her night had been long and sleepless. She’d dozed off for a short time, then had spent the rest of the predawn hours staring at the ceiling.

Had she pushed him too far? Was she asking more of Adam than he could give? Could she settle for less? She shook her head. No. Not for herself or for Billie. She could handle his fears if he would meet her halfway. All she wanted was to know that he loved her. Easy enough. Why didn’t she just go ahead and change the tide while she was at it?

Billie came bouncing into the kitchen. She’d already dressed herself. Her softball bulged from its usual pocket.

“How are you?” she asked, remembering what Adam had told her about the previous night.

“Fine.”

She bent down to receive Billie’s kiss. “Fine? That’s it. What about the vase?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

Billie shrugged. “I’ve already been punished.” She grinned. “And I wrote a letter.” She thrust it at her mother.

“What about Adam? I understand that the two of you had some words.”

Billie laughed. “He’s fine. I talked to him last night.”

“When?”

“After I’d been asleep. I had a bad dream that he went away because I told him to.” Her smile faded as she remembered. “I was sad when I woke up, so I went to find him.”

Jane frowned. “You left the house in the middle of the night?”

“No. He was outside. On the porch.” She put her baseball cap on her head. “You know, on the chair out front. We talked.”

“And?”

“I ‘pologized.” She wrinkled her nose. “He said he’d always be my dad. I told him I love him. Is that okay?”

“Yes, honey, that’s fine.” Billie was growing up so fast, Jane thought sadly.

“Good, ’cause he loves me, too.”

“I know he does, Billie, but sometimes people aren’t comfortable saying the words.”

“What words?”

“I love you.”

She shook her head and skipped toward the door. “He said ’em. I’m going over to see Adam for breakfast. Bye.” With that, she slipped through the back door and headed toward the hedge that separated their property.

He said them? “Wait,” Jane called after her, but it was too late.

He said the words? Adam Barrington said “I love you” to his daughter? Was it possible? Jane poured herself a cup of coffee
and sat at the kitchen table. She smiled to herself. Maybe, just maybe they were going to get through this.

*

Adam stared out his office window. Give it up, he told himself as he tossed his pen onto his desk. He wasn’t fooling anyone. For the last week he’d existed in a fog; going through the motions of his life, but not really participating. He wasn’t kidding anyone. He shook his head. That wasn’t true. He
was
kidding everyone else; he wasn’t kidding Jane.

He thought about the routine they’d slipped into. Billie appeared at his house for breakfast. He went over there for dinner. They spent the evening as a family, but as soon as Billie went to bed, he returned to his own place. As Jane watched him leave, she asked him silent questions. He still didn’t have any answers.

She’d threatened to tempt him into her bed. So far she hadn’t tried anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted. It only took a look, a brush of her hand against his arm, or the scent of her perfume and he was hard and ready to take her. So far he’d managed to resist. Not out of any moral strength. Rather it was a feeling of self-preservation and the sensation that he was on the edge of a great discovery. He just had to hang in a little longer. He hoped.

The late afternoon had turned hot and muggy. Despite the air-conditioning in the bank, he felt uncomfortable. He swore out loud. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Rising from his seat, he grabbed his jacket, then headed for the door. He met his secretary in the hallway.

“Mr. Barrington?” Edna asked as she stared at him.

“I’m leaving.”

“Now?” She sounded scandalized. “It’s only three o’clock.”

He grinned at her. “I know, Edna. Why don’t you take off early, too?”

“I couldn’t.” Her heavily painted mouth formed a moue of disapproval.

“Your choice.”

He walked through the bank and out the back door.

The trip home took about ten minutes. After opening a cold beer, he loped up the stairs toward his room. Once he’d shed his
suit, he felt better. The house was oddly quiet. It was because Charlene was gone, he told himself. Even though she didn’t actually live with him, she was in and out enough for him to miss her. He wondered what Greece thought of Charlene Standing of
The
Carolina Standings.

He pulled on shorts and a polo shirt and picked up his beer. But instead of going downstairs to his office, he turned left and continued down the hall. One of the small rooms at the very end, in what used to be the maids’ quarters, housed a few of his boxes. There were his sports trophies from high school. Some old clothes, his letterman’s jacket. His lucky jersey and a football helmet.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. He wasn’t interested in anything from high school, or even college. Adam crouched by a small box tucked in the corner. He set his beer on the floor and touched the white cover. Taking a deep breath, he lifted it up and stared inside.

White roses. They still carried their scent, he thought as he inhaled the sweet smell. Two dozen, in the shape of an oval. Yellowed ribbons circled the arrangement, and it all sat on a cloud of tulle. Jane’s bouquet.

He sat down and picked up the flowers. They’d dried perfectly. A couple had crumbled at the edges, but other than that, they were exactly as he remembered.

It had been after the guests had been told there would be no wedding. He’d stood in the back and watched them file out. A couple had walked over to him to offer condolences. He’d been too numb to respond. Jane’s mother had approached him last. Her hazel eyes, so much like her daughter’s, had avoided his. Without saying anything, she’d pressed something small and hard into his hand. The ring.

He looked into the box and saw the velvet jeweler’s case in the corner. He’d taken the ring and held it tight. When the last person had left, he’d walked through the church. There had been so many questions. Why had she left? Why hadn’t she said anything? What could he have done to keep her?

Then he’d seen them. The flowers. She’d left them on a chair by the church’s side door. He’d picked up the bouquet with the
intent of throwing it into the garbage. In the end, he couldn’t. He’d stared at the flowers every day for two months, until they’d dried up and he’d finally packed them away. With the ring.

He set the flowers on the floor and picked up the velvet box. Inside a two-carat solitaire diamond winked at him. A ring fit for a princess, he’d thought when he’d seen it in the store window. He’d bought the ring months before he’d proposed because he’d known it was perfect for Jane. He’d practiced what he’d planned to say. The romantic phrases had sounded silly, so in the end he’d told her they were suited.

Suited
. He shook his head.
Not
that she drove him wild with her smiles.
Not
that he wanted to watch her grow large with their children and raise them together.
Not
that he dreamed about building a life with her for years to come.
Not
that he loved her. Because he couldn’t say the words. If he loved her, she would leave him.

She’d left him, anyway.

He snapped the box closed and took another drink from the bottle. So the system had its flaws. Nothing was perfect. Nothing was forever. Nothing was guaranteed. He could make it easy or he could make it hard. In the past, he’d chosen the difficult path. By listening to the voice inside, by giving in to the fear, he’d lost the only woman he’d ever loved.

And here he was again. Damn close to losing her. He was supposed to be the smart one. When was he going to learn?

He rose and walked over to the small window. He could see Jane’s house from here, and her yard. Her car stood in the driveway. She was right there, he thought. All he had to do was reach out and take what she offered. A single step of faith. Three small words. How much easier could it be?

*

Jane stared in the refrigerator. There wasn’t anything decent for dinner. Maybe she should suggest that the three of them go out to eat. Not a good idea, she thought, swinging the door closed. It had been awkward between her and Adam lately. There would be enough gossip without speculation that their undefined relationship was already falling apart. She glanced at the clock on
the wall. There was still time to go to the store before Billie came home from her day camp. Maybe a nice roast.

Someone knocked on the front door. She walked through the house and pulled it open.

“Adam?”

She stared, not at him, but at what he was holding. She recognized the dried flowers and crumpled tulle. Her bouquet! She’d wondered about it. Her mother had saved her dress and veil, but had told her the flowers had disappeared. Had Adam kept them all this time?

She looked up at him. His brown eyes gazed warmly at her, but she couldn’t tell what that meant.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

She stepped back. “I don’t understand.”

“About the flowers?”

She nodded.

“I kept them.” He set the flowers on the table in the small foyer, then shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. They were standing so close that she had to tilt her head to look at his face.

“Why?”

“At first they reminded me of what you’d done. They fed my rage. Then I kept them because I couldn’t bear not to. They were all I had. The flowers and this.”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it out. Automatically she raised her palm up to take what he offered. She gasped. Her ring.

She stared at the circle of gold, the sparkling diamond. Tears burned, but she blinked them away. What did it mean? Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Adam?”

He touched his forefinger to her chin and nudged her until she raised her head. He stood so tall and handsome. A special man she had loved her whole life. Just him, she thought, knowing she would accept whatever he offered. She had no choice. There would only ever be Adam.

His gaze caressed her face. He brushed his thumb across her lips. “I love you,” he said.

She stared, mute, not able to believe.

“I love you, Jane. I’ve always loved you. Even when you were gone and I told myself I hated you, I couldn’t let go of what we’d had together.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You don’t have to marry me, but will you come live with me in my house? The two of you. Can we be a family?”