* * *

By the time Blackie got back to his shop, he was devastated. On the way out of Julie’s house, he’d heard her sobbing and knew he’d broken her heart by saying what he had. He’d handled that all wrong. What had he been thinking to accuse her of getting pregnant on purpose? Okay. The thought had crossed his mind. He’d known how much she’d yearned to have children during her marriage. And, if he was honest with himself, he knew his feelings of insecurity in the relationship had probably prompted his suspicions, too. He was so much older than Julie, and sometimes he wondered why a beautiful young woman like her would want anything to do with a man like him. He was twenty years her senior. Fighting a daily battle against the middle-age bulge. Going gray at the temples. Julie could crook her little finger and have her pick of all the young, single guys in town. Why would she settle for an old junk heap with so many miles on him?

Blackie locked the street door of the shop and went upstairs to think. He collapsed on his recliner and closed his eyes. In his mind’s eye, he pictured how insane it would be to have a kid at his age. Walking the floors with a crying baby at night. Dirty diapers. Colic. Diaper bags, car seats, baby carriers. He was too damned old for all that.

Or was he? Blackie remembered how panicked he’d felt when Julie had gotten so upset that she was shaking, and he suddenly realized with numbing clarity that his concern had not been only for Julie, a healthy young woman in the early stages of pregnancy. He’d been worried about the safety of their baby, too. Most miscarriages occurred during the first trimester. He worried that Julie getting so angry wouldn’t be good for their baby.

Blackie’s heart squeezed with concern for the woman he’d come to love so much and for the child she now carried. He remembered how sad he’d often felt during his forties when he’d yearned to be a father and knew he never would be. And Julie. God, she was a dream come true in his life, one of the best things that had ever happened to him. So what if he was fifty-three? It was only a number. He was still active and in good physical shape. His own father was still alive and almost ninety. If longevity was passed down, Blackie should have a lot of good years left in him. And like it or not, he’d finally gotten his wish and was about to be a father. He couldn’t let Julie go through this without him. She hadn’t gotten pregnant without him, and she shouldn’t have to deal with this pregnancy and raising the child alone.

Blackie started to feel excited about the baby. Boy or girl, he would love it with his whole heart and soul. Even now when he saw little girls, he melted and wished he were still young enough to have one of his own. And boys? He yearned to teach a little guy how to throw a ball. He instinctively knew he’d been born to be a dad, the kind who read stories, played with dolls, and wore out the front lawn playing tag football. He still wasn’t too old for all that, and if he and Julie had their kids over the next couple of years, he wouldn’t be too old when they were teenagers if he worked out and stayed in shape.