watchful eyes are darting back and forth between the two of us. I shake my head almost imperceptibly at him and he nods, once.
“Are you going to come to dinner, Mr. Jensen? We’re making pizzas, because it’s Friday, and that’s pizza day. We were going to the zoo, but I think the zoo was closed or something, because we couldn’t go.”
“Gracie, Mr. Jensen has other things to do besides having pizzas with us.” I look up at Chris with a little grin. “Like being on the TV.”
“Actually, I think my calendar’s all clear. I would love nothing more than to come to pizza night. You’ll have to show me how to make them, though. I’m afraid being on the TV doesn’t help much with pizza-making.”
“I’m a great pizza-maker,” Grace says, just before releasing my hand and skipping over to where her pink backpack is resting against the swings.
“Maybe I’ll let you make mine,” he calls out after her.
He turns back to me and there are a thousand unanswered questions in his eyes.
“Not now,” I hiss, before turning to call out, “Great,” so that Grace hears me.
As she busies herself with putting on her sweater, I fix my eyes on Chris.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Your mother told me where I could find you.” He’s smug. “Told you she would come around.”
“Unbelievable.”
“It is, actually.” He motions to Grace. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
There’s a faint menace underlying his words, and it immediately puts me on defense.
“It’s not like we’ve been having a lot of long heart-to-heart conversations lately. A couple of trysts, platonic or not so much, don’t exactly make for good opportunities to talk about other things. Like four-year-olds.”
Before Grace can reach us, Chris grabs my arm fiercely. He holds me captive, his eyes boring into my own.
“Damn it, Hallie. You should have told me. You have to tell me.”
In an instant, I realize his mistake. I take a step back and shake my head violently.
“No! Chris. No. No.”
I release myself from his grip and look him dead in the eye, and the verdant green almost knocks me onto the ground. I manage to stutter out an explanation.
“She’s not…she’s…she was…Ben’s daughter. She’s not yours. Ours, I mean. She’s Ben’s daughter.”
I can’t read his expression, although I see that the anger in his face has softened.
“I could never do that.” I touch his arm softly. “Do you really think I could have had our child and not told you? That I could have raised our child with another man, without telling you? Chris…”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” He releases the breath he’s been holding and looks back at me. “But…” He looks back up at me with a kind of wonder. “You have a daughter, Hallie. A little person who’s a piece of you. You should have told me.”
“I…” I’m searching my brain for an explanation, but I’m saved by Grace’s sudden reappearance. She holds her backpack out to me, and I take it from her and try to place my hand over hers.
She apparently has other plans, because she beams up at Chris and puts her small hand in his instead.
“You know, Uncle Sam is on the radio. But it’s not exactly Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam has bands and they play on the radio. The best one, 4Sure, called me to wish me a happy birthday and they sang the best song ever and Uncle Sam says it’s going to be a big hit, and it’s all because of me. I think the radio is better than the TV, don’t you? But I never met anyone who was on the TV before, so maybe that’s better. Do you want to tell me about being on the TV, Mr. Jensen?”
Chris meets my eyes over my head and whispers, “Oh, she’s yours all right.”
I can’t help it. I start laughing, and I don’t stop until tears begin to stream from my eyes.
“You have a pretty laugh, Mommy. You should laugh more.”
I stop laughing, and the breath catches in my throat. Chris gives me a comforting look before turning back to Grace and bending his head close to hers.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a very smart girl, Grace?”
“Sure. Lots of people. But my teacher says that I’m obstinate.” She stumbles a little bit over the word before jutting her chin out. “I don’t think that means smart.”
He’s matching her, step for step, as they approach the parking lot. I can’t do anything but follow.
“Obstinate is better than smart, even if