Jen looked up slowly, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "Wow. What ever happened to 'Hi, Jen. How are you?'?"

"If I thought the answer would have been anything other than 'dying', I might have asked." His jaw clenched tighter. "Well?"

She sighed and settled back against her pillow, closing her eyes. "Find out what, Doug?"

He loosed a short, bitter laugh. "I don't know, Jen. About Amy?"

Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him. "What about Amy?"

Doug moved closer, taking her hand in his. He held it loosely, loose enough that she could pull away if she wanted despite the soft pressure of his thumb as it traced circles on the juncture between her thumb and fingers. "She's mine."

"No. She's mine."

He let out a long breath, shifting as he sat on the edge of her bed. "Jen, why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell."

He leaned in, his blue eyes flashing. "I've seen her, Jen. Her blue eyes…"

"I have blue eyes."

"She looks like me."

"She looks like any number of guys I've fucked in my lifetime, Doug." Her voice was soft but strong. "I have a type, apparently."

"Fine." He released her hand and looked away. "How many of those guys that you've fucked in your lifetime did you fuck nine months before she was born? How many of those guys were around to impregnate you?" He got off the bed and walked to the door, turning around and leaning against it. "I deserved to know."

"You would have deserved to know. If she was yours. Which she's not." Jen struggled to sit up, wincing slightly. She rested her hands in her lap, fingers flexing against the scratchy blanket. "I'll grant that you and I slept together around the time she was conceived. But you didn't do the dirty work."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric pulled tightly over his muscles. "Who did?"

"No one you know." She shook her head, her hair falling in a limp shroud around her face. "Besides, Doug, what good would it do if she were yours? If I told anyone I'd have to tell Jack. And you're with Jack."

"I wasn't then."

"I'm sure Jack doesn't want to know that his current boyfriend staved off his attempts to come out of the closet with a wicked romp through my bedroom. It might put a strain on both relationships. And, as I am dying, I'd really rather not alienate my best friend right now."

"Is that what you think you were?"

"That's not what we're talking about."

"Somehow I think it might very much be at the heart of what we're talking about. You think I fucked you because I didn't want to admit that I was gay?"

"If the ruby slipper fits…"

"Right. Well, you've obviously got this all figured out."

"When it comes to Amy, yes. Yes, I do. I have to."

"Doesn't she deserve to know her father?"

"She'll have a chance to know two fathers, Doug. You and Jack. Isn't that enough?"

He looked away from her. "Do you remember, during your junior year of high school, when you were going through your rebellious cheerleader phase? Jack was on the football team and that little freshman was following the two of you around like he didn't know which one of you he wanted to fuck more?"

"Henry?" Jen laughed. "Henry wasn't interested in Jack."

"Right." He met her eyes quickly then looked away again. "Trust me on this one, okay?"

"And how would you know about that?"

"Because I watched every damn game, pretending I was there to keep the peace, when in reality, I was watching you." He shrugged, still not looking at her. "You were too young for me, too much for me."

"Too female for you."

"Never mind." He nodded. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Doug. Doug, wait. I'm sorry."

He stopped, his back to her, his hand on the doorknob. "I know Amy's mine. Jack and I will take good care of her."

"Doug…"

He glanced back, his eyes unreadable. "Goodbye, Jen."

01-28-06