Page 54 of Child of Mine

When she doesn’t go on, I probe, “What did you see?”

“That you had secrets that you couldn’t even face.”

“I get that honestly, anyway,” I say, my voice laced with so much sarcasm it’s veered into Quinn territory.

“Some secrets are necessary,” she says, without a trace of accusation or even indignation. “The problem, I think, is when you keep them from yourself.”

I’m not sure who she’s talking about now—me, my dad, or herself—but I’m suddenly exhausted. I lean over and give her a hug. “Thanks for listening and understanding. I think I need to go to bed now.”

Unfortunately, when I do, I drift in and out of sleep laced with nightmares featuring that haunted expression on a face that morphs from my dad’s to my own to Henry’s.

The bigger the secret, the harder it is to hide.

* * *

HENRY

I can’t sit still. I need to talk about this with someone. Not my mom. It’s too late, and besides, she’d freak out and hop on the next flight, ready to smother me and her new grandchild with love. Not a bad impulse, but before that happens, I have to figure out what I want and give Lilah a chance to do the same.

Not Ralph. He’s the last person I’d ask about any kind of long-term relationship.

My brothers are a no-go. One, they can’t be trusted not to tell my mom because they work side by side with her. She’d sense something was up and get it out of them. Two, they’re as useless as Ralph.

My twin sister has better mom-defenses. In some ways she’s the obvious choice because she knows me better than anyone. I’m just afraid of what she’ll say because she won’t hesitate to tell me the truth: that I’m a terrible candidate for instant fatherhood for a whole host of reasons. One, I have a quick temper. Two, I lose patience too easily. Three, I’m a workaholic and Lilah would be better off without me if I’m just going to follow the next job out of town.

I guess if that’s all true, it’d be better to face it before I meet her so we can be clear about what I have to offer. Which isn’t much.

Pacing to the kitchen, I check the clock on the oven. It’s after ten. It’s a little late for her to be up, but—

My thoughts are interrupted by the phone ringing. As I sprint to answer, my heart rate soars. A call this late can only be bad news. “Hello?”

“What’s up, Jack?”

Another of Jill’s bazillion nicknames for me, this one because of the nursery rhyme. She doesn’t sound upset, but I need to make sure. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Is that why you’re calling?”

“Yeah. I felt weird and I haven’t talked to you since you moved—you jerk—so I figured you needed to talk to me.” Before I can answer, she continues. “Spit it out. Long distance may be cheaper after ten, but it ain’t free.”

There’s no way to ease into this, so I do as she says. “I just found out I have a daughter.” When she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “You still there?”

“I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say that you have a daughter.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Here in Raleigh? Did you cheat on Christine? Oh man, that’s going to be a problem. I can’t lie—”

“I didn’t cheat on Christine,” I cut in. “The mom’s here. We had a fling right before I left New York, but she lives in Boston. She works onBoom.”

“I don’t even know where to start. Did you tell Mom yet?”

“No. And you can’t tell her—or anybody—until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

“What do you mean what you’re going to do? You’re a dad. You have to take care of her.”

“Well, obviously, I’ll take care of her financially. But she’s almost six years old already. What if she doesn’t like me?”

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