Her eyes closed and she exhaled, her shoulders slouching. “What did she have?”

“I don’t know.”

Her eyelids flew open. Her stare was sharp. “You don’t know? Please tell me you’re lying.”

I shook my head. “No. We . . . never really talked after that.”

“What do you mean, you never really talked after that?” Sadie’s voice was getting louder.

I glanced at the kids across the street. “I mean, she went back to school and I went back to Arizona, and that was that. We never talked again.”

“You never even called her to make sure she was okay?” Sadie asked, incredulous. “Or in all the years since?”

Again, I shrugged. “No.”

My sister jumped to her feet. “Tyler Michael Shaw, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” I was surprised at her angry reaction. “That’s how April wanted it.”

“She said that? She specifically told you not to contact her ever again even though she carried your baby for nine months and then had to give it up?”

“Well . . . yeah.” Hadn’t she? I rubbed the back of my neck. The details were fuzzy in my head. All I could recall was the sheer terror of hearing her say she was pregnant and the utter relief at being absolved of any responsibility.

Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. “For some reason, I have a hard time believing that. How could you completely abandon her that way?”

I frowned. “I didn’t abandon her.”

She touched her chest. “I got pregnant unexpectedly. What if Josh had done that to me?”

“Sadie, you’re being ridiculous. I saw April this morning, and she isn’t mad at me. So why are you?”

“I don’t know! I just am!”

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She stared me down. “I want you to say you’re the guy I think you are. That’s what I want.”

I clenched my teeth and said nothing—of course I wasn’t the guy she thought I was. Turns out I wasn’t even the guy I’d thought I was—and she stormed into the house.

For a few minutes, I sat there on the stoop, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all. What the hell was wrong with me, digging up this secret baby bombshell and lobbing it at my pregnant sister? Why hadn’t I just left it buried in the past where it belonged?

Across the street, the two girls were silently staring at me. Had they heard the argument? Grimacing, I stood up and went into the house to find my sister and apologize—for what, I had no idea. But it felt like that was supposed to be my next move.

Sadie was unloading the dishwasher, angrily tossing silverware into a drawer. I leaned back against the counter. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Look, maybe I should have reached out to April at some point. But at eighteen, I was entirely self-centered and laser-focused on my career. I was an expert at shutting out anything that wasn’t going to get me where I needed to go, and I had to be cutthroat. My worth depended on it.”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “Your worth as a pitcher maybe. But not your worth as a human being.”

“In my mind, there was no difference, Sadie. You have to understand that.”

She stopped moving and stared into the drawer, saying nothing. “There’s more to life than being good at baseball, you know.”

“Maybe for you, there is. Look, cut me a little slack here, okay? I didn’t reject her. I offered to pay for everything. I asked her what she wanted to do. Adoption was her choice, and it was the right thing. Then we just . . . moved on. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her.”

She turned to face me. “Then why not call her? Even afterward?”

“I don’t know, Sadie. I put it out of my head. And the more time that went by, the more awkward it would have been. I didn’t want to go back there. And for all I know, she didn’t either. She had my number,” I pointed out. “She never used it.”

“You never once wondered about the baby?”

“I never let myself. There was no point.”

She leaned back against the counter. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know. Every time I talked to her . . . I feel weird about it now.”

“Well, don’t. Just forget I said anything, okay? Let’s drop it.”

She studied me for a long moment. “I don’t think I ever realized how repressed you are. It’s not good for you.”

I scowled. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not repressed.”

“Yes, you are. You just told me what an expert you are at shutting things out. You can’t keep doing that. You need to make your peace with this.”

“I have.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’ve kept this buried for, what, twenty years?”

“Eighteen.”

“Whatever. There’s a reason you’re talking about it all of a sudden. It bothers you.”

“No, it doesn’t.” But I was growing agitated. “I’m talking about it because I wanted to share it with you, although I’m beginning to regret my decision.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

“I told you, I saw April this morning.”

“It’s more than that too.”

“I’m seeing her again tonight.”

Her eyes took on a knowing look, and she nodded. “Aha. The plot thickens.”

“Look, it’s not a big deal. We’re meeting for a drink.”

“Just a drink?”

“Okay, dinner and a drink,” I admitted.

“Are you going to talk about what happened?”

“No, Sadie. It’s dinner. Not a therapy session. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, be nice to her. Apologize for being selfish.” She shook a finger at me. “And if she wants to talk, you listen.”

“I will.” I rolled my eyes. “Can we drop this now?”

“Yes. Thanks for telling me.” Then the little shit walked across the kitchen and patted my stubbly cheek. “I knew you were in there somewhere. Now go get that haircut. And don’t forget to shave.”

Six

April

My meeting with the engaged couple finished by six-thirty, and I slipped into my office to freshen up.

Nothing drastic, of course. This wasn’t a date. But I traded my utilitarian flats for the sexy heels, made sure my black skater skirt wasn’t too wrinkled, checked the mirror on the back of my office door to be certain my emerald green blouse was tucked in properly, and gave my hair a little boost with some dry shampoo.

Okay, maybe I swapped my regular nude lipstick for something a little deeper and more sultry. Perhaps I spritzed myself with a little more perfume. And possibly I undid one more button on my blouse, but only so my four-leaf clover pendant showed. I didn’t wear a lot of jewelry, but I loved that necklace—it had been a gift from my parents when I first moved away from home.