A Dad for Billie (25 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: A Dad for Billie
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“Stop.” She held up her hand. “I know
control
is
your
favorite word, but it’s not mine. I want you to be a part of Billie’s life, but that means we’ll be working together, Adam.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

“And?”

“What about her last name? Shouldn’t it be mine?”

First Billie and now him. Did they have some sort of psychic communication she didn’t know about? “I don’t think that’s important.”

“It will be.” He stared down at her. The warm lover who had greeted her with a kiss was disappearing and in his place stood the cold stranger she’d come to fear. “School starts in a few weeks.”

“I’m aware of that. I have a planning meeting next week.”

“My point is Billie isn’t going to keep quiet about me.”

“So?”

“Orchard is a very small town. As soon as word gets out, people are going to talk.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I know. I didn’t want to think about that, but you’re right.”

He touched her arms and lowered them to her sides. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Jane, but these are things we have to talk about.”

“But do we have to deal with them now?”

“Why not?”

Because I’ve just realized that I never stopped loving you, she
thought. Because I want you to hold me and love me and promise me this time we can make it. Because I need to hear that I’m not too late. “I just thought—” She shrugged.

“What about her birth certificate?”

“What about it?”

“Am I listed as her father?”

“We went over this already. Of course.”

“Good. Then we won’t have to deal with the formalities of an adoption.”

“Adoption! What on earth are you talking about?”

He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. “I want to legally recognize Billie as my daughter. I’m meeting with my lawyer and changing my will. Everything will be left to her—in a trust of course. There are certain family heirlooms that will go to Dani and Ty, but the bulk of the estate—”

“Stop!”

She walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. He followed. When she reached the front parlor, she instantly regretted leaving the safety of the other room. The scent of roses filled the parlor. The soft light from the lamp caught their peachy color and made the individual petals look as if they glowed.

“You’re going too fast,” she said, without turning around. “We have to handle this situation one crisis at a time. The first item is dealing with the three of us as a family.”

“But I want Billie to be taken care of.”

“I’ve done that.” She spun to face him. “She’s been taken care of just fine. By me. I’ve been responsible all these years and we’ve managed to survive without you.”

“That isn’t necessary anymore.”

She saw by the stubborn set of his jaw that she wasn’t getting through to him. “We don’t need your money.”

“Don’t let your pride interfere with what’s best for the child. There’s medical insurance, contributions to her college funds. I want to take care of the details. You shouldn’t have to do it on your own. Billie is my daughter, too.”

Where had he gone? she wondered as she looked searchingly at his eyes. The deep brown gave nothing away. But sometime between the last time she’d seen him and this, she’d lost her
ability to find his vulnerable side. The need to control had returned in full force.

“You want too much, too soon,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Despite the muggy heat, she felt cold.

He leaned against the doorframe. “I’d also like to go with you when you meet with her teachers.”

“Dammit, Adam, are you listening to me?”

“Of course.”

“Adam, I’m not a child anymore. You can’t push me around.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand why you can’t be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” It hurt so much, she thought as the tears formed. She blinked them back. “You can’t win this by controlling us. You can’t make me stay or Billie care about you by giving her your last name or putting her in your will. That’s not what matters. It’s the people. Us. You. Me. Billie. Love us. Let us love you. That’s how we’ll make it work.”

He turned away, but not before she saw the fear in his eyes. He couldn’t, she realized with a sense of panic. He couldn’t do it without the control. To him that’s all he had. She’d grown up while she was gone, but he hadn’t learned that love without trust, without freedom, could never survive.

“Oh, Adam.” The tears fell. She didn’t bother to brush them away.

He looked at her then. “No,” he said coldly. “You’re not going to run this time. You’re not taking Billie away from me.” She shook her head. “You don’t get it. That’s not what this is about. It’s about letting yourself love somebody, and trusting them to love you back.”

The front door banged open. Billie ran in.

“I’m hungry, Mom,” she called. “When do we eat?” She came to a sudden stop and glanced up. “M-mom?”

Jane reached up to wipe her face, but it was too late. “I’m fine,” she said through the tears, then turned and fled up the stairs.

Billie stared after her, then swung her gaze to Adam.

“You made my mother cry!”

Adam felt as if he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut. “Billie, I didn’t mean—”

“Why’d you do that? I hate you.”

She ran at him and began punching his thighs. The blows were too light to cause damage, but they hurt him as much as if she’d stabbed him with a knife. Every touch of her fist was a dagger to his heart.

“Billie! No! Stop, please! This isn’t what you think.” He dropped to his knees and grabbed the girl’s hands in his. She squirmed to get away.

“I won’t let you hurt her. I won’t!” she cried.

“Hush, Billie. Listen.” She tried to twist out of his grasp. “Please. Just listen.”

His quiet voice finally got through to her. She stopped moving and stared at him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her nose was red and her hat askew.

“I didn’t hurt her on purpose,” he said, taking the chance and releasing her. “I’m going to go up and talk with her, but first I need to make sure you understand.”

“You made her cry,” she repeated stubbornly, wiping the back of her hand across her face.

“I know and I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s easy to hurt people we care about even though we don’t mean to. Have you ever made your mother cry?”

She stared down at her feet. “Yes.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

“Do you remember how it made you feel?”

“Bad.”

“That’s how I feel inside. I’d never hurt you or your mother on purpose. I’m going to apologize to her. Do you understand?”

She nodded without looking up.

“Billie?” He touched his index finger to her chin. She raised her head. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

She gave him a watery smile. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Can I have a hug?”

She hesitated for a second, then flung herself at him. She spoke so softly that he couldn’t hear the word at first. Then it sunk in.

“Dad.”

She’d called him Dad. The coat of armor he’d been building ever since Jane had barreled back into his life cracked a little bit more. He was losing ground fast here. First with Jane and now with Billie. He couldn’t stop thinking about keeping the two women in his life. But at what price? Billie had just shown him that her temper could easily explode. What happened if she decided that she didn’t want him as her father anymore? What if Jane refused to listen to his plans for the future? How was he going to keep them from leaving?

He held Billie tighter, as if by hugging her close, he could hold the world at bay. He was losing a war and he didn’t even know who the enemy was.

He felt her ease back, then kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna go outside till dinner, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll go talk to your mom.”

She ran out the front door.

He rose to his feet and turned to go upstairs. When he reached the landing, he paused. He couldn’t lose them. Not now. What was he going to do?

A thought burst into his mind. He ignored it at first, then began to wonder if it wasn’t true. Perhaps the reason he was going to lose this war was that the enemy was himself.

*

Jane knocked on Charlene’s door. When the older woman called for her to come in, she stepped into the living room and laughed.

“I can’t believe you’re going to need this much luggage,” she said, looking at the suitcases open around the room. Clothes stood in piles on every available surface.

Charlene sighed. “I’m not a light traveler, dear. I always think of something else I just might need. So I pack it all.”

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Charlene raised one auburn eyebrow. “I assume you mean because I’m leaving in the morning.”

“Why else?”

Charlene didn’t answer. She folded the silk nightgown she was holding and laid it in the nearest suitcase.

“Oh.” Jane grimaced. “As opposed to my leaving because everything here has gotten so awful.”

“I
was
going to ask about that, but now I won’t.”

Jane cleared off a space on the floral-print sofa and dropped down. Charlene handed her several camisoles. She began to fold them. The older woman’s small house provided a haven for all of them, Jane thought. Billie had stayed here. Who knows how many times Adam had run here, and now she was doing the same. It was better than being home.

She sighed as she recalled Adam’s stiff apology for making her cry. He hadn’t said he was sorry for what he’d wanted to talk about, though. She’d noticed that distinction. And then dinner had been strained and awkward with Billie talking to the two adults, but them not talking to each other. When he’d offered to read to Billie and put the girl to bed, Jane had gratefully accepted and had fled to Charlene’s.

“There are problems with the adjustment,” Jane said. “It would have been foolish to assume otherwise. Still—”

“You were foolish?” Charlene smiled.

Jane shrugged. “Let’s just say things are about what I should have expected if I’d thought this thing through.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“He’s still the same. He’s still trying to control people by controlling the circumstances.”

“In what way?”

“He wants to talk about changing Billie’s last name, putting her on his health coverage, adding to her college fund. That sort of thing.”

The older woman nodded. “I understand perfectly. I can’t
believe
he’d be so self-centered. I hope you put him in his place.” She took back the camisoles Jane had folded and packed them next to the nightgown.

“I told him—” Jane looked at her. “Wait a minute. That didn’t sound completely sympathetic.”

Charlene winked. “You always were a bright girl.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Charlene shrugged and headed for the bedroom. “Nothing, really.”

“Sure,” Jane muttered under her breath.

“I heard that.”

Jane chuckled. “Okay, go ahead. Say what you’re thinking.”

Charlene returned with an assortment of lingerie. She shook out a long, pink, gauzy gown and smiled. “Are you sure you want to give me that much license?”

“Speak.”

“You say that Adam hasn’t changed, but maybe you’re the one living in the past. You’ve had over eight years to get used to being Billie’s mother. Adam has had three days. Under the circumstances, I’d say he’s acting pretty decently.” She sighed. “The Barrington men have always been strong. I remember when his mother was first dating—”

“Charlene! Could we please stay on the subject?”

“If you insist.” She picked up another negligee, this one black, with more lace than fabric. “Have you considered the possibility that you’re overreacting to his very normal concerns about his child? Wanting to make sure she has medical insurance and a decent college fund hardly seem like offenses that deserve your outrage.”

“Maybe.” Jane leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “I hadn’t thought about that. He came in with his list of things to change and I—”

“Reacted. Sit up straight, dear. That position does nothing for your posture.”

“I’m twenty-eight, Charlene. I can sit how I like.” But she leaned back, anyway.

The older woman smiled. “Very pretty. Now, about Adam.” She shoved aside a pile of caftans and settled on the arm of the couch. “If you could have seen him that day at the church, when we found out you’d left. He was very hurt. I remember thinking it would have been kinder if you’d shot him.”

Charlene spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. It took several seconds until her words sunk in. Jane blanched. Shot him? Was she kidding? But the older woman shrugged.

“He loved you, Jane. You abandoned him. Why are you surprised that he might feel that pain?”

“Did he love me?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Did he tell you that? Did he say those exact words? I’ve thought about it, you know. Tried to remember everything from the past. He never told me.”

“What?”

She looked up. “That he loved me. Not once. Not even when he proposed. ‘We’re well suited,’ he said to me that afternoon. Then he kissed me and promised he’d make me happy. He didn’t have to try hard. I worshiped him already. But he never said ‘I love you.’ Did he to you?”

“Don’t be silly, Jane. Of course he cared.” Charlene began to bustle around the room, picking up toiletries and tossing them into a smaller carryon bag.

“But did he say the words?”

“Not those exactly, no. But you mustn’t read too much into that.”

“That’s what you told me when I first came home. Maybe you’re wrong, Charlene. Maybe I was just a convenience. Maybe Adam can’t love, maybe he can only control people.”

“He didn’t have to say the words,” Charlene said sharply. “I watched him suffer. He lost weight. He couldn’t sleep.” She blinked several times. “He begged me to tell him why. When I couldn’t answer, he told me I was never to speak of you again. And we never did. But I saw it in his eyes. Perhaps he controls his world because without that barrier, it hurts him too much.” She turned away. “That sounds like a man who loved very much. To me, at least. But then I’m an old woman. Feel free to ignore me.”

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