A Dad for Billie (6 page)

The hiss from the coffeemaker as she replaced the pot recalled him to the present.

“My desire to get Billie on a softball team is purely selfish,” he said. “Just looking out for my property.”

“I’ll take care of that window today. I know you’re working, so I’ll go to the hardware store.”

“Working?” He frowned. “It’s Saturday.”

“I know. But you usually worked…I thought you’d still.” She turned to face him, her eyes averted. “My mistake.”

“One of many.” He tried to call the words back, but it was too late. The first crack in the armor, he thought. There wouldn’t be another. She couldn’t get to him anymore. “When we were—” He paused and searched for the correct phrase. He didn’t like the one that came to mind, so he tried another tack. “It was never my intention to continue that schedule. I did what I had to in order to get the bank healthy. While I don’t keep what people refer to as ‘banker’s hours’, I do only put in the usual forty or so.” Another crack. There, in the sharpness of his voice. Jane set her coffee on the counter and walked toward him.

“Adam, I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“You must feel—”

“Nothing.” He cut her off before she could voice what he was doing his damnedest to ignore. “Not a thing. I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want—” A burst of anger struck the side of his soul. The blow caught him off guard. He took a deep breath. “Let it go. I did.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her hazel eyes searched his face.

He made himself sit quietly, forced the lid down on his anger and secured the lock. “That’s your problem.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a couple of appointments in town. Feel free to use the phone and call whomever you need.”

“The phone?”

“To let people know you arrived safely. Or if Billie needs to speak to anyone.”

“I spoke to my parents yesterday. Who would Billie call?”

She was making it difficult. He rose. “Your ex-husband. Billie has a father, does she not?”

“Oh.” Jane twisted her fingers together. “Oh, that. I…there’s no one to call.”

“You have sole custody?”

Jane paled visibly and backed up a step. “Yes,” she whispered. “I think so.”

“Think? What do the divorce papers say?”

“Why are you asking this?”

“I want to know if a strange man is going to show up on my doorstep.”

“There’s no one. Billie and I are alone.” She took another step away and bumped into the counter.

“I see.” Her statement didn’t please him, he told himself. Jane could have married six times since she’d left and it wouldn’t matter to him. Why would he care that she’d probably left some other man the way she’d left him?

“We’ll be fine,” Jane said, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s the car to unpack and the house to clean. Don’t worry about us. Billie and I have lots to do.”

“She’s a great kid.”

For the first time since entering the kitchen, Jane looked at ease. “Really? You think so?” She smiled. “I know she thinks the world of you.”

“She’s just happy I didn’t take off a layer of her hide for breaking the window.”

“Billie knows you’d never hit her.”

“How would she know a thing like that?”

“She’s very wise about people.”

“That’s a good skill for someone her age.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. “I wish I’d had it. I always saw what was on the surface. I never thought to look for more.”

She was trying to tell him something, but what? “And now?”

Her eyes darkened as the gold fled. She moistened her lips. “I’m getting better. It comes with age.”

“You don’t look much older.” He took a step toward her. The involuntary movement sent alarms ringing through his head. Being attracted to Jane would make his bid to forget the past that much harder. He didn’t want to remember what he’d lost; it had taken too long to let go.

Feel nothing. It was the only thing that worked. But his feet continued to move closer, until he stood in front of her. The need to punish was lost as the rise and fall of her breasts, the bare feet inches from his own, again reminded him of that afternoon. She’d only worn panties under her father’s shirt. Did the sundress allow much more? She’d filled out in her time away, not much, but enough. He smiled as he remembered her shyness the first time he’d touched her breasts. Her reluctance had been explained
when she’d finally confessed that they were much smaller than Bobbi Sue’s, with whom she shared a locker in gym class.

Adam had murmured he didn’t care about seeing Bobbi Sue, dressed or naked. That Jane was the one driving him crazy. She’d allowed him to release the catch on her bra and had arched in pleasure when he touched her pale virgin skin.

He raised one hand toward her face. There weren’t any lines to show the passage of time. Her cheek looked as smooth and soft as he remembered. She watched him fearlessly, until her eyes drifted closed.

No! He tightened his hand into a fist, then turned away. No more remembering. The past held nothing for him. It couldn’t. He didn’t want her.

“I’m late,” he said, and left the room without once looking back.

*

Jane measured out the correct length and cut the shelf paper. One cupboard down, three to go. She brushed her bangs off her forehead. The muggy afternoon heat sapped most of her energy. After a morning in town, during which the replacement window for Adam’s house had been ordered, Charlene had offered to take Billie for a swim at the club’s pool. Jane had been invited to tag along, but thought she’d better start getting the house ready. It was Saturday, the furniture would arrive Monday. There wasn’t a lot of time. Besides, with Billie gone, she’d work faster.

Unfortunately she also had time to think. About Adam. About that morning. One more mark against her, one more measure of guilt.

She’d lied. Not outright, of course. But a lie by omission remained a lie. He thought she was divorced. That she’d met and loved and married another. That Billie had a father somewhere out there. What would he say when he found out the truth?

There couldn’t have been another man. Despite the miles and years between them, she hadn’t been able to forget. Her daughter—his daughter—was a daily reminder. She couldn’t move on until she’d let go of the past. So why did doing the right thing have to be so tough? The answer was easy: Adam.

He’d been so unaffected. Except for that brief moment, when
he’d almost touched her face, he’d acted like a stranger. A well-mannered host offering refuge to distant, but unknown relatives. Not by a flicker of a lash did he let on that they’d once meant something to each other. How she wanted to blast him from his damn, cool self-possession. And she could do it. But for Billie’s sake, she needed to bide her time.

Jane smoothed the paper onto the shelf. Charlene had warned her that he hadn’t waited. But he also hadn’t married. It was probably because she’d taught him not to trust anyone.

The back door slammed and Billie bounced into the room.

“We’re back.”

“How was it?”

“Great. I met tons of kids at the pool. The girls are kinda dopey, but I talked to some boys about the softball team.” Billie dropped her towel onto the counter and raised up on tiptoes to offer a kiss. “They didn’t believe me when I told them I was a pitcher.”

“So she threatened to beat one of them up.” Charlene entered the room. “I declare, we’ll have our hands full trying to tame this one.”

“I don’t need taming.” Billie thrust out her lower lip. “He said he didn’t fight girls, but I knew he was scared.” She assumed a fighter’s stance, feet spread, fists raised. One strap of her bathing suit slipped down her shoulder.

Charlene ruffled her hair. “She’s a tiger. And she dove off the high board.”

“I’m impressed.” Jane measured the next shelf. “Anything broken or lost?”

“Nah.” Billie climbed onto the counter and wiggled to get comfortable. “Besides, Charlene told me that lots of kids break things. Adam kicked a football into his mom’s chandelier when he was in high school.”

Jane smiled. “I’d forgotten that, but now that you mention it, we could hear the screaming all the way over here.”

Charlene inspected her work. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget Adam wasn’t always the responsible man he’s become.” The older woman lifted Billie down from the counter. “You need a bath, young lady.”

“But I just went swimming. I can’t be dirty.”

“The pool isn’t clean, it’s wet.”

“Mo-om.”

Jane raised her hands in the air. “I’m staying out of this one, kid. You’re on your own.”

Charlene led her to the back door. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight. They serve fried chicken at Millie’s diner on Saturday, and Billie told me you rarely make it at home.”

“I hate cleaning up afterward. I’d love to go to Millie’s. Is the food still terrific?”

“This is Orchard. We don’t take kindly to change.”

Billie tugged on Charlene’s hand. “Can Adam go with us?”

“No, dear. He’s going out tonight with…a friend.” She glanced at Jane, her shrug apologetic. “It seemed to be a sudden decision.”

“Okay,” Billie said. “But we can bring some back, in case Adam doesn’t like his dinner.”

They left together, with Billie still complaining about the bath. Jane cut the shelf paper, then slipped it into the space. She didn’t care that Adam was going out on a date; it wasn’t her business. If his cool response was to be believed, her return to Orchard hadn’t affected him at all.

That couldn’t be true, she thought, sagging against the shelf. But it was. If he’d come after her all those years ago, if he’d forced her to listen to him, given her a sign he cared, that she was more to him than a convenience, she might have been convinced to stay. He had let her go without a word.

Like it or not, they were going to be neighbors. He couldn’t avoid her forever. Even if he didn’t care about her, he had to be angry about the past, about what had happened. When he learned the truth about his daughter, the daughter that had been kept from him—

Jane bit her lower lip. She’d only seen Adam truly enraged once. The collections manager at the bank had tried to intimidate a delinquent widow by using physical force. When Adam found out, he’d been a man possessed. The rage in his eyes, the barely controlled violence in his stance, the deadly quiet voice he’d used
to fire the employee, had frightened her and had made her wonder if she knew him at all.

Looking back through the eyes of an adult, she realized he had kept himself from her. The essence of what he was—the promising oldest son forced to grow up before his time—had remained hidden. She’d been no match for him. Even his carefully reinedin passion had frightened her virgin body. No wonder he’d let her go without a word. What had there been to say?

She opened another package of shelf paper and unrolled it along the counter. The easiest thing would be for her to go along with him and play her own game of pretending nothing had happened. But that wasn’t an option for her. She had to think of Billie and protect her. Until they had put the past behind them, they couldn’t face the present. Until he had dealt with his anger, she couldn’t trust him with his daughter.

*

Jane sat at the window seat in the guest room. In the trees, morning birds called to one another and their young. It wasn’t yet seven, but already the humid heat threatened. Another Southern Sunday, she thought, pulling her light, cotton robe closer around her body.

Last night Adam had stayed out late. She’d waited up as long as she could, but exhaustion had forced her to bed. This morning she’d rushed to the window and had caught a glimpse of him jogging off. He had to come back sometime, and she’d be waiting. They still had a lot to discuss, and avoiding each other wasn’t going to make it go away.

After washing up in the bathroom, she pulled on shorts and a blouse. She would dress for church after her talk with Adam. She checked to make sure Billie was still asleep. Her child lay curled up like a possum. The light sheet covered everything but the tip of her head. Jane silently shut the door and made her way down the stairs.

The house echoed with morning stillness. Underfoot, the hardwood floors felt cool and smooth. Adam had pulled up the old wool carpets and replaced them with scatter rugs. Most of the furnishings remained the same, but yesterday she’d caught sight of a complex entertainment unit in the game room. While he’d
kept the family portraits and photographs, the darker paintings had been exchanged for bright moderns and a few lithographs. An original cartoon cell hung in the hallway outside her bedroom. The changes in the house were minor, but no less important for their subtlety.

Reaching the bottom stair, she sat down and waited. It had been almost an hour. He
had
to return soon. So what was she going to say? How far was she willing to push him? Telling herself that dealing with his anger herself was better than risking it spilling over to Billie was one thing. Facing Adam in a rage was quite another.

The girl he’d known before would never have defied him. If he’d told her he didn’t want to talk about something, she would have never mentioned it again. That girl had been lost somewhere between Billie’s birth and the present.

The back door slammed and jerked her out of her reverie. Here goes nothing, she thought grimly as she rose and brushed her damp palms against her shorts. She walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. And stopped.

Adam stood with his back to her. His bare back. Since he’d last jogged out of sight, he’d removed his T-shirt. Sweat glistened on his skin, the sheen defining the rippling muscles clenching and releasing like thick ropes. One hand held the refrigerator door open. He reached in and pulled out a bottle of juice. He shook the container, then raised it to his lips. As he drank, her throat tightened and swallowed. A bead of moisture dripped from the bottle onto his chest and was lost from view. Her gaze drifted down, past the flat midsection rising and lowering with each deep breath, past the bulge indicating his gender, to long, powerful legs. She knew the exact moment he became aware of her presence. The sudden tension of his body forced her to look up.