“You’re married?” I said, pointing to the ring.
Billy nodded. “My wife’s name is Kim.”
I tried to picture Kim. I decided she would be thin and have pretty red hair. She would be nothing like my mother.
“What do you and Kim do for fun?” I asked. I imagined the two of them taking grand adventures together—going on safaris, hiking Mount Everest, things like that.
“I have a little garden in my backyard—tomatoes, cucumbers, onions. I even make my own pickles.” Billy paused. “To be honest, I spend most weekends carting my kids around to basketball or swim practice.”
I blinked. “You have kids?”
Billy nodded. “Three. Sophie’s thirteen, Billy Jr. is eleven, and Anna is six.”
They were my half siblings, I realized. I had always wanted a sister or brother. This could be my chance. We could go ice-skating at Christmastime, or to the local pool during summer, or to matinee movies on Saturday afternoons.
“What do you do in Indiana?” I asked.
“Work way too many hours.” Billy forced a laugh. “I sell life insurance.”
We were silent for a minute. His life was so charming, already full. Would he have room for another kid? Should I ask?
“Patty told you I was dead?” he said.
I nodded. “She said you overdosed, that you were an addict.”
Billy stared at his lap.
“Were you?” I asked.
He glanced up, startled. “I’ve never overdosed on anything—except maybe birthday cake.” He forced another chuckle, embarrassed. We both winced at the lame joke, but it made me like him more. I wondered if this was considered a “dad joke.”
“So you never did drugs?” I asked, hating how hopeful my voice sounded.
He shook his head, serious now. “Aside from smoking pot once in a while in college.”
I believed him. Billy Gillespie’s face was so squeaky clean, he was practically a rubber duck. He was the kind of parent you could look up to—someone who didn’t lie to people he supposedly cared about.
The server stopped by to take our orders. I chose lemonade and a club sandwich, and he did too—a good omen, for sure. The server walked away, and there was an awkward silence. Billy cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.
“How did you meet my mom?” I asked.
“I was taking a few classes at Gallatin, this small community college thirty minutes from my house. I thought I’d get a head start—transfer a few credits toward my bachelor’s degree when I started at Purdue the next year. I met Patty in the school cafeteria. She was flirty and charming, not afraid to make the first move. She kept inviting me to see a movie with her. The third time I said yes.”
He paused, as if trying to answer the unasked question: why?
“She was funny as hell,” he said. “I liked being around her.”
The server dropped off the lemonades at our table. Billy and I reached for the packets of sugar at the same time. Another sign. I smiled, stirring the sugar into my cup with a straw. This man seemed kind and normal. Maybe I didn’t need my mother. Maybe I’d just needed my father all along. I signaled for him to continue.
Billy took a long drink of lemonade. “Patty was a lot of fun, but I didn’t want a girlfriend at the time. I was twenty-two, about to go to college after doing odd jobs around my hometown for a few years. Nothing was going to get in the way of me getting my degree.” He stared at me. “My dad got my mom pregnant when they were eighteen, so they did what they were supposed to: married and settled down. Never left our small town. Born and died in the same hospital. Never saw the world, never had any big passions. Happiness was a frivolous goal in their eyes. Maybe frivolous is the wrong word. Unattainable.”
Billy folded his straw wrapper. He looked like a little kid, the way he kept fidgeting. “I respect my parents’ choices. I do. But I didn’t want that life for myself. So when Patty told me she was pregnant . . .”
He wavered. He drank from his glass for a few seconds, then sat back in his chair as if he’d finished his story. I had to hear the rest.
“When she told you she was pregnant . . . ,” I repeated.
He groaned. “Do we have to dredge all of this up? I’ve told you how sorry I am.”
I needed to tread carefully; I didn’t want him to change his mind about getting to know me. “I’m trying to understand this from your point of view, that’s all.”
Billy chewed his lip. “I had no idea how she’d gotten pregnant in the first place. She told me she was on the Pill. It has like, a ninety-nine-percent success rate—I remember looking it up.” He rubbed his eyes. “She said it was a sign the baby was meant to be. When she offered me an out, I realized she’d planned the whole thing. I’d been bamboozled.” Billy said this last word in a goofy tone to try to lighten the mood, but his jaw clenched for a second, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Mom always called those “fakies.” I batted the thought of her away.
“Two club sandwiches,” the server said. She set down the plates. “Can I get you anything else?”
I shook my head and grabbed a French fry. “Then what happened?” I asked him.
Billy took a bite of his sandwich, then sighed. “Patty said as long as I paid child support, I didn’t have to be involved with her or her baby. I said yes without a second thought. I’d been so close to having it all ripped away from me—Purdue, falling in love, waiting to have kids until I was ready. I sent her a check every month until you turned eighteen.”
Mom told me the checks in the plain white envelopes came from my grandpa. She said they were part of the inheritance he’d left us. I wondered if anything that had come out of her mouth was true. Billy had made some mistakes, but at least he was honest.
“She was so excited to have a baby. I thought she’d be an excellent mother. More than capable of providing the love of two parents.” His shoulders slumped. He gazed at me. “Rose, I hope you know how sorry I am.”
My father hadn’t wanted me, so he’d left, simple as that. Now that I was sitting across from him, though, his abandonment was less important. He’d been a dumb kid, but he was here now. He had apologized over and over, when no one else in my life would.
I reached across the table, touched his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay.”
He smiled back, relieved. “I’d love to have you over for dinner sometime. You can meet Kim and the kids. What do you think? It’s a five-hour drive, but I can give you gas money. We’ll make something fun. Is there anything you’ve been dying to try?”