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I want to meet my dad." Twelve-year-old Danny St. Claire stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his blond hair tousled from sleep, his eyes drowsy but determined.
The glass of orange juice slipped from Jenny's fingers and crashed to the floor. "Your father?"
"I want to talk to him, Mom."
"Danny-"
"I want to ask him if he ever played shortstop. I want to know how tall he was when he was my age. I want to know when he started to shave." A curl fell down over Danny's right eye, and he flipped it back off his face in disgust. "I want to know if his hair is straight now."
"Danny, please." Jenny shook her head in despair. "We've talked about this before. I know it's difficult for you to understand that a man might not want to have a child. Maybe when you're older..."
"I'm old enough. I'm his kid. He should know me."
Danny stuck out his chin in a show of stubbornness that was exactly like his fatherif he only knew it. A sudden pain cut across Jenny's heart.
She walked over to the counter, giving herself time to think. The toaster popped up two slices of wheat bread. She buttered them set them on a plate', and returned to the table with a pleading smile. "Eat your breakfast. We'll talk about this after school."
"You won't have time after school. You'll be at work. You're always at work."
"I'm sorry, but I do the best I can, Danny. I think you could be a little more understanding."
"Rob's mother stays home all day. And his dad is taking him camping this weekend," Danny said, throwing out a challenge that was impossible to beat.
"Are you deliberately trying to make me feel guilty? I'm doing my best. What do youwant me to say?"
"Nothing. Forget it." Danny slid out of his chair.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"I'm not hungry."
Jenny sighed as Danny left the room. She hated to disappoint him, but lately that's all she seemed to do. Working eight hours a day at McDougal's Market,trying to build a jewelry-making business on the side,then keeping up with thhe hoouse, the cooking, and the cleaning didn't leave much time for play.
Picking up a sponge, she cleaned up the mess on the floor and packed Danny's lunch. When she went into the living room, Danny was stuffing his homework into his backpack with an expression so woebegone he looked more like six than twelve.
His drooping mouth caught at Jenny's heart. It reminded her of simpler times, when Danny hadn't thought beyond his next cookie. He was growing up fast, too fast, asking questions she didn't want to answer, wanting things he couldn't havelike his father.
She was losing her child, her baby, and she couldn't bear the thought.
"Runner on first," Jenny said.
Danny looked up"Huh?"
"Runner on first Two outs. Two strikes, one ball. What's the pitch?"
A reluctant smile spread across Danny's face. "The heater."
"No curve?"
He shook his head. "Blow some smoke, Mom."
Jenny drew back her arm, Danny's sack lunch Cclutched in her hand. "The runner steals. The pitcher turns. She throws." Jenny hurled the bag across the room.
Danny caught it and dropped to the floor, tagging an imaginary runner. "You're out."
"Nice play."
"Nice throwfor a girl."
Jenny walked over and pushed the cowlick down at the comer of Danny's head.
He brushed her hand away. "Aw, Mom."
"Hug me good-bye?" she asked hopefully.
Danny rolled his eyes, but did allow her one quick squeeze. It wasn't enough. She was lucky to get that much.
Danny paused at the front door. "Can we go to the mall this weekend? I want to buy a gift for your birthday."
Jenny looked at her son for a long moment, not sure if she should be touched by his thoughtfulness or impressed by his ability to manipulate her. The quirk at the comer of his mouth gave him away. "Nice try, kiddo. Is Sportsworld having a sale?"
"Come to think of it..."
"We'll see."
"That means no."
"That means, we'll see. Maybe Alan can go with us."
Danny made a face at the mention of Jenny's boyfriend. "Forget it."
"Come on, Danny, give Alan a chance. He's trying."
"Yeah right Danny hiked up his too-big blue jeansunder his too big sweatshirt and placed his San Francisco Giants baseball cap on backward.
Jenny sent him an affectionate look. Even though his clothes were atrocious, his attitude worse, he was still her kid, and underneath all that adolescent armor beat a tender and loving heart. She just had to remember that.
"You do understand about your father, don't you?" she asked.
Danny looked her in the eye. "No, I don't understand. I have a right to know my father. Kids are supposed to have two parents."
"I wish it could have been different."
"Don't you want to know what happened to him, Mom? Dont you care about him at all?" Danny didn't wait for an answer. He ran down the steps, across the grass, and disappeared from view.
Jenny walked out to the sidewalk to pick up her morning paper. The street was quiet and peaceful, just a block from the Pacific Ocean. It was a working-class neighborhood with small one-story homes, neatly kept yards, and plenty of bikes, skateboards, and soccer balls to keep the kids happy. There wasnt a lot of money in this part of town, but there was a lot of pride and a lot of love.
As she turned to go back to the house, Jenny saw her elderly neighbor Grade Patterson digging in her garden.