A Dad for Billie Read Online Free PDF

stomach doubled in size. Jane felt herself grow pale.
    “I meant that as an expression, dear,” the older woman said hastily. “Nothing more.”
    “Good. Because Adam—”
    “Men don’t look for things like that.” Charlene took her hand and tugged, forcing Jane to sit on the bedspread, next to her. “Start from the beginning.”
    Jane folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve made a mess of everything.”
    “That sounds the tiniest bit exaggerated.”
    “I left here nine years ago, had Adam’s baby and never told him.” She paused and drew in a breath. “Now I’m back and I’ve brought home his child. What would you call it?”
    “Fine Southern drama.” Charlene’s blue eyes glittered with suppressed laughter. She sobered quickly. “Sorry, dear. I understand your concern, but you are back, and you’re going to tell him about Billie, and everything will be fine.”
    Jane twisted her fingers together. “I’m not going to tell him.”
    “What?”
    “I mean, I am, but not just yet.”
    The lump grew again, pressing against her ribs and making it difficult to breathe. Dear God, she prayed, then paused. What to ask for? Forgiveness? She could use a strong dose of that. Common sense? That went without saying. Show me the right thing for my daughter, she thought. But would God listen? Would anyone? After what she’d done?
    No one had told her guilt tasted so empty. That the hollowness would linger on her tongue, as though the emptiness was too much for her heart to bear, and the excess would seep out into her body, stealing joy and promise.
    Charlene touched her arm. “Then why are you here if not to tell Adam about his daughter?”
    “I am. I will. I thought—” She squeezed her eyes shut, but that didn’t block out the past. “I thought it would be so easy. I’d show up, tell Adam I was sorry and he’d forgive me. Then I’d introduce Billie and we’d live as neighbors. Like a TV sitcom.” She paused, feeling overwhelmed. “I’ve been a fool. It’s not going to be like that. It can’t be. I should never have come.”
    “If your furniture is being delivered Monday, then it’s a little late for second thoughts.”
    Despite herself, Jane smiled. “Always practical. And this from a woman who still claims to be raised by wolves.”
    Charlene straightened. “I
was
raised by wolves.”
    “You got lost in the woods for a day. The family dog was with you. That’s hardly being raised by wolves.”
    A smile twitched at one corner of Charlene’s mouth. “Dogs are related to wolves. And you’re avoiding the real issue.”
    “I know.”
    Jane rose and walked to the window of the guest room. The sultry night air drifted past the curtains, carried lazily by a sleepy breeze. Familiar fragrances brought back memories. Jasmine for evenings, flower blossoms for day. The scents clung to her skin, a sticky residue from the humidity. So different from the life she had built, yet so right.
    “I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished,” she said, leaning on the window frame. “It was tough at first, financially, I mean. Billie was a good baby, but any infant is expensive.”
    The evening noises began, the screeching and chirps sounding like an orchestra being tuned.
    “I couldn’t go back to college until Billie started school three years ago,” she continued. “But I never gave up the dream of teaching. I got my credential a couple of months ago. My parents offered me their house here, then I got the job at Orchard Junior High. It seemed like a sign. And a chance.”
    “To let Billie meet her father?”
    Jane touched the lace curtains. Behind her, Charlene waited silently.
    “Yes,” she admitted at last. “It’s what Billie wants more than anything. A father. But I hadn’t counted on what it would be like coming here, seeing him, the house, knowing that I’d never escape. I owe her, I owe them both. And all I want to do is turn around and run back to San Francisco.”
    “What does this have to