She was five years old the first time she said the word he’d so often used in his personal musings.

“Daddy, what’s a bastard?”

“What?” Thunderstruck, Jim turned and gaped at the child. “Where did you hear that word?”

“Ari,” Ellen responded innocently, gesturing to her older sister. “She said I was a bastard. What is it?”

“It’s a bad word, and I don’t want to hear you using it.” Jim turned to the nine-year-old watching him complacently. “That goes for you, too, young lady. Did you actually call your sister a bastard? Where on earth did you even hear that?”

“Grandpa,” Ari said with a shrug. “And she is a bastard, ‘cause Aunt Jenna said that Mommy and some other guy-”

“Okay,” he interrupted, then shook his head incredulously. “I get it. But I don’t want either of you girls using that word anymore, you hear me?”

They both nodded, though it was clear from their expressions that neither of them was ready for the conversation to end. Sighing, Jim sent Ellen outside to play so he could talk to Ari. He hadn’t realized that she was getting more of an education from his family than he would’ve liked.

It was true, of course, what she’d said. Ellen was illegitimate. But there was no need to burden the child with that sort of knowledge. She wouldn’t understand what it meant, anyway. Not that Jim really understood anything his wife had ever done…

“Are you still sulking?” Marcie asked as she entered the bedroom.

Jim rolled his eyes and turned his head on the pillow. “Yes, Marcie. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m sulking. Now be a dear and leave me to it, would you?”

“Okay.” There was a brief silence, and Jim felt his wife settle onto the bed. “You know you’re being unreasonable, though, right?”

“Unreasonable?” Jim turned on his side to throw a disbelieving glance at his wife.

Marcie nodded serenely. “Yes. Unreasonable.”

Closing his eyes for a second, he drew in a deep, calming breath. “How so?”

She shrugged. “I tell you I’m pregnant and you throw a fit. Honestly, Jim. It’s not like fatherhood is anything new to you.”

“Fatherhood, no. Seeing another guy father my wife’s child… yeah, that’s new.”

Marcie waved this off. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Oh, my god.” Jim paused to massage his temples before looking back up at his wife. “Are you seriously trying to say that it doesn’t matter that you cheated on me, because I didn’t catch you?”

“That would make some people question whether or not I actually cheated on you,” Marcie pointed out with a shrug. “What proof do you actually have?”

“Okay, setting aside all the incidental clues, how about the fact that you’re pregnant, and we haven’t slept together in months?”

Again Marcie shrugged, her pale green eyes reflecting nothing but innocence. “And whose fault is that?”

“God, Marcie, why are we even having this conversation? You’re a slut, I’m a fool, that baby’s a bastard, and good luck to Ari trying to grow up normal in this house. And now that we’ve established all of that, I’m going to sleep. God.”

Ignoring any further comments from his wife, Jim rolled back over and attempted to sleep. Unfortunately, that wasn’t so easy as he might have hoped. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the events of the day from his mind. He’d been doing alright ignoring the signs that Marcie was unfaithful, but this was just too much. It wasn’t like he was desperately in love with his wife, and he knew very well that she didn’t love him, but there were some things you just didn’t do. If she wanted to cheat on him, well… he didn’t like it, but he didn’t blame her that much. But would it have killed her to use birth control?

Maybe this was just another of her many ways to annoy him. She was rather childish in that regard. Not that she was incredibly mature in any other respect, but most of the other things she did he could ignore, and some of them were actually endearing. But she seemed to take great pleasure in aggravating him, and it didn’t really increase his regard for her at all. He’d liked her when they first met, sure. And over the past three years, while Ari’s presence in the house complicated their relationship, he’d still been able to find some sort of fondness for her. But the woman was infuriating.

If only she’d show some sort of remorse. Ask for his forgiveness, maybe. Oh, he knew very well it would only be a gesture, and she wouldn’t mean it any more than he would when he’d tell her everything was fine. But it would be something. As it was, she was practically flaunting her infidelity right in his face. And he would have to live with the result of it, too.

Damn her! Couldn’t she just have gotten an STD or something? He could’ve ignored that; it wasn’t like he’d be in much danger of catching it from her. But a baby was a lot harder to ignore. She ignored babies enough for the two of them. The woman really wasn’t meant to be a mother, yet here she was, ready to burden him with another child. And this one wasn’t even his.

“Damn it, Marcie,” he began, turning in the bed, then stopped at the sight of his wife, fast asleep next to him. She looked younger, somehow, when she was sleeping, for all that she was only twenty-two. Now she looked much like she had when he’d first met her as a girl of eighteen- pretty and unconcerned. Her full, pouty lips were curved into a slight smile, though there was no trace of the mischief normally so evident in her features when she looked at him. Her dark red hair had fallen in front of one eye, and Jim smiled ruefully as he brushed it aside, wondering for the thousandth time what her natural hair color was. Maybe it was the light brown that Ari had inherited; that certainly hadn’t come from him.

What would this new baby look like? Certainly not like him. He sighed and turned away from Marcie, attempting to beat back his thoughts so he could sleep. Again he marveled at her ability to ignore the gravity of any situation. It clearly didn’t bother her that her child was illegitimate, but didn’t she feel any apprehension at all about his reaction over the next eight or nine months? Or the next eight or nine years? Was it unreasonable to think that he could make her life as miserable as she could make his?

Yeah, it probably was. Jim sighed again and dropped off to sleep with that depressing thought in his mind. His wife had no respect for him. Damn.

It turned out that Marcie’s gift for making Jim’s life miserable was even stronger than he’d thought. Or else she was better at it when she was dead than when she was alive.

“Oh my god, my life,” he moaned as he sat on his couch a day after his wife’s funeral.

“Shut up,” Jenna responded. “Your life is great. You’re finally rid of the bitch you were married to, and you have an adorable baby. What more could you want?”

Jim shot a disbelieving look at his younger sister, then turned his attention to the infant she held. “I could want a baby that was actually mine,” he said bitterly.

She waved this off. “You’ve got Ari. But this one’s cuter. And now you have two! Come on, Jim, don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this at least a little bit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I love this. I’m twenty-five, widowed, and I have two little kids to take care of, one of whom is not even mine. It’s loads of fun.”

Jenna met her brother’s gaze for a second before shrugging and looking back down at the baby. “She is cute, though,” she said, poking at the tiny fingers.

“I suppose,” Jim replied, studying the infant’s face. “But why should that be remarkable? Marcie was gorgeous, even if she was a slut, and I’m sure whoever she decided to sleep with was just as good-looking.”

“She never told you who it was?”

“Would you?” Jim stared longingly at the baby for a second before shaking his head. “I’m surprised she finally admitted she’d cheated on me.”

“Was that her final confession?” Jenna asked, fighting a smirk.

“You know, this situation really isn’t as funny as you think,” Jim remarked with a roll of his eyes. “And no. That wasn’t actually her final confession.”

“So what was?”

Jim studied his sister’s face for a second. She appeared genuinely curious, and though he knew she was likely to make light of what he said, it didn’t bother him that much. Still, he didn’t know if he wanted to share even with her what Marcie had said to him just before she died. He was still puzzling through it. Confessions of love were probably common enough coming from a wife’s deathbed, but he hadn’t been prepared for the conviction in her voice. Had she really loved him all that time? If so, she had a weird way of showing it, but that really wouldn’t be surprising. Still…

“Jim?” There was now a mixture of curiosity and impatience in Jenna’s bright blue eyes, and Jim quickly pushed the distracting thoughts from his mind.

“It’s none of your business,” he said lightly. “But hey, I’ve got a question for you. What did Dad mean yesterday when he said he was offended on my behalf? I heard him talking to you when I went to get the baby from him.”

“That’s none of your business,” she declared, handing him the baby and rising from the couch. “You want anything from the kitchen?”

“Jenna…” Rolling his eyes, he rose and followed his sister into the kitchen. “I’m serious. What was he talking about?”

She sighed and sank into a chair with an empty glass in her hand. “He doesn’t like Ellen because she’s not his flesh and blood, and he doesn’t like Marcie because she cheated on you. And he’s really not fond of you at the moment, either, because he thinks you’re taking it all without any fight.”

“Without any fight? What the hell does he expect me to do?” Jim blew out a frustrated breath, then joined his sister at the table. “Marcie’s dad doesn’t like me either, you know. Or the baby.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “He says she’s a bastard child who killed his little girl, and he claims it’s all my fault, because apparently I wasn’t man enough to keep Marcie satisfied at home.”

“So basically the whole family hates both you and Ellen, eh? Are they still okay with Ari?”

“I hope so,” he moaned. “This is just too complicated for me, Jen. My wife is dead, and for the first time in four years I’m wondering if there actually was something to our relationship that I wasn’t aware of. I’ve got a four-year-old to take care of, a job, and a baby that all of my extended family resents. And I can’t even say that I don’t, even though I’m the one who has to take care of her and try to give her a halfway normal life. And a part of me just wishes I knew who the son of a bitch is who got Marcie pregnant, so I could pass the kid off on him, but I know she’d be worse off there, and it bothers me that I even care.” He glanced unhappily at the sleeping baby he held. “I want a drink.”

Wordlessly Jenna took a can of soda from the fridge and handed it to him. It wasn’t what he wanted, and she knew it, but he ignored his cravings and slowly sipped at the soda as his sister carried the baby from the room. The baby… she wasn’t his, but he was all she had. And it wasn’t her fault her mother had been unfaithful. It wasn’t fair to hold that against her.

Jim threw back the rest of his soda. Why the hell wasn’t anything fair?

\

/

She was ten when she first confronted him with the word he’d desperately tried to avoid applying to himself.

“Daddy, were you an alcoholic?”

Startled, he looked over at the girl. “What… why do you ask?”

She stared back at him, all earnestness and curiosity. “The boys were talking about alcoholics at recess today, ‘cause one of their dads is, and Ari said you used to be one.”

Jim shifted his gaze to his older daughter, sitting calmly on the couch. She shrugged. “Weren’t you?”

Every instinct told him to deny it, but something in Ari’s stance told him that was a bad idea. “Yes, I was.”

“When?” Ellen asked.

He sighed. “Back when Ari was a baby… when your mom and I were still getting used to being married.”

“Why did you become an alcoholic?”

“Well, it’s not like I tried to,” Jim said with a rueful smile. “But I started drinking too much, and I got addicted. Which is why you shouldn’t drink,” he added pointedly.

Ellen was watching him solemnly. “But why did you drink too much?”

He met her gaze for a minute, then shook his head. “We’re not going to talk about that now.”

“Okay.” The girl was obviously still curious, but Jim wasn’t ready to get into that just yet. After a moment of awkward silence, he turned for the stairs. Maybe in a few years he would tell Ellen more about his marriage…

As Jim entered the house after a long day of work, he was greeted by a baby’s wails. He sighed and threw his jacket on the couch before heading up the stairs. Where was Marcie? It sounded as though the baby had been crying for a while; surely his wife should have heard the commotion.

If she had, though, she had ignored it, which was almost as unsettling a thought as her not being able to hear it. Not that it mattered at that precise moment. Reaching the baby’s room, he hurried inside and picked up the squalling infant. Her entire face was red from screaming, and there were drops of sweat on her face. He spent a few minutes trying to calm her, then changed her diaper and popped a pacifier in her mouth. After about two more minutes, the exhausted child drifted off to sleep, and he placed her back in the bassinet, then went in search of his wife.

Marcie was in their bedroom, primping.

“What are you doing, woman?” he demanded.

She didn’t even spare him a glance. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting ready to go out.”

“Did you not hear Ari crying?”

“She stopped, didn’t she? What’s the big deal?”

He rolled his eyes. “God, Marcie. Is it even safe to leave you alone with our child?”

“That’s a ridiculous question,” she replied, studying her reflection in the mirror. She applied her lipstick, then turned to glance at her husband. “She’s been fine so far.”

“Tell me you do this every day,” he groaned.

“Oh, lighten up. It’s not a big deal.” She attempted to brush past him, but he grabbed her upper arms and backed her against the wall.

“Not a big deal? This is a child we’re talking about! Good god, woman, does it mean nothing to you that we’re trying to take care of a baby? Your baby. Don’t dare tell me that is not a big deal!”

Ignoring his words, Marcie looked her husband up and down, letting her gaze rest first on his hands holding her against the wall, then on the steely look on his face. She smiled and ran her hands up his chest. “Well, hi there, Jim,” she purred.

“Oh, god,” he muttered, releasing her and taking a step back.

“Where you going, sexy?” she inquired, again closing the distance between them.

“I’m going out,” he said flatly, heading for the door and down the stairs. “Try not to kill the baby while I’m gone, would you?”

“Jim, I was going out,” she called after him.

“No, you’re not,” he said. He grabbed his jacket from the couch and left the house, ignoring whatever it was she was yelling from upstairs.

Why on earth had he married that woman? And why had he thought she’d be any more responsible than she was? To let her child cry for hours while she got ready to go out partying with her friends… that was really a quality he wanted in his child’s mother. Yet here he was, leaving the baby with her so he could go out. Did he really have any right to complain?

Of course he did. Jim shook his head as he pulled up in front of a bar. There were times when a man just needed to get out of the house and have a beer. Or two, or four… or as many as it took.

It turned out that it took a lot more than he thought. For convenience’s sake, he soon switched from beer to hard liquor. He didn’t necessarily enjoy being drunk all the time, but it was easier to deal with than the fact that he had an irresponsible wife and a little baby to take care of, and he was only twenty-one.

“You drunk again, Jim?” Marcie asked him one evening. It was barely seven o’clock.

“You still a bitch?” he responded before staggering up the stairs.

“You know you’re pathetic, right?” she called up to him.

“Yes!” He collapsed into bed and was almost instantly asleep, but her words stuck with him through the night, and when he woke, groggy and with a headache in the morning, he remembered them. What right did she have to call him pathetic? Wasn’t she the one who didn’t have the good sense to take care of her own baby? Or of her own husband?

It was that thought that set him on the slow, painful road to recovery. If he was the pathetic figure in their marriage, that didn’t bode very well for Ari. Besides, he didn’t like the thought of allowing his wife the satisfaction of thinking that she was the more responsible of the two of them. She’d ruined his life enough already; it wouldn’t do to have her gloating about it. He’d just have to take back control of his life, and to do that, he’d have to stop drinking. Or so his sister claimed.

“Yes, Jen, I know I need to stop. And I will. As soon as I finish this bottle.”

“Sure you will,” Jenna said, the scotch held firmly in her hands. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll split it, and then when it’s finished, you won’t buy any more.”

He shook his head. “You’re underage. And don’t worry about it. That’s not enough to get me drunk.”

“You drank before you were old enough,” she pointed out. “And so do I. So either you split this with me, or I’ll down it here and now. And then I’ll get drunk, and good luck explaining that to Mom and Dad.”

“Fine.” Rolling his eyes, he grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and allowed his sister to pour the drinks. The two sat in silence for a while, enjoying the scotch, until Jim spoke again. “I can’t believe I’m letting my seventeen-year-old sister drink.”

Jenna smiled. “You’re so cute. As if you have any say in what I do.”

“That seems to be the pattern with females in my life,” Jim said wryly. “Marcie doesn’t pay any attention to me, either. Maybe I’ll luck out and Ari will listen to me when she gets older.”

“Well, your chances are better with her, anyway.” Draining the last of her drink, Jenna grinned wickedly and set her glass down. “Things not going any better with Marcie, then?”

“Ha.” Jim swished the last of his scotch around before finishing the drink and setting his glass next to his sister’s. “Is it wrong that I really want to strangle her sometimes? And that failing, at least slap her around a bit?”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Jenna said with a shrug. “Hell, I’ll do it if you want.”

“Thanks, Jen, but by ‘slap her around a bit’, I did not mean knock a few teeth out.”

“Hey, I only did that once, and the kid deserved it.” She grinned widely. “I prefer bloody noses.”

“Why do I let you baby-sit my child?” he sighed, burying his face in his palms.

“Because I still do it better than that bitch you’re married to.”

He lifted his head to shoot her a reproving glance. “Jenna…”

“What? You know I’ve never liked her. And if you’d listened to me when I told you that, you wouldn’t be stuck married to her.”

“Yeah, and if I hadn’t married her, her father would’ve killed me.” Jim glared at his empty glass. Why had he let Jenna finish his scotch?

“That’s your own fault for sleeping with her,” she pointed out. “And for not using sufficient protection.”

“Shut up.” This was really too much. He was out of alcohol, and his baby sister was lecturing him about unprotected sex. He’d beat himself up over that often enough already, damn it.

\

/

She was fourteen the first time she asked about the term he hadn’t heard in such a long time.

“Daddy, did you have a shotgun wedding?”

He sighed. “Yes… yes, I did. Why do you ask?”

Biting her lip, Ellen shrugged one shoulder and avoided her father’s gaze. “Ari mentioned something…and I realized you must’ve only been about twenty when you got married. So…I just wondered.”

“I see.” He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, your mom and I had only been dating for a month or so when she got pregnant with Ari… and even though her dad didn’t actually have a shotgun when he talked to me, the threat was still there.”

“Did you love her?”

“Love your mother?” He smiled sadly and shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”

“Jim, do you love me?”

“Well, that’s a silly question,” he said, smiling as he looked down at the ring on Marcie’s finger. “Didn’t I ask you to marry me just five minutes ago?”

She fought back a giggle. “Yes, you did. But if you hadn’t, my father probably would’ve killed you, so that’s really not proof at all.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded, then leaned over to kiss her. “But be that as it may, yes, I love you. And hey, this’ll be fun, right? We’ll get married, and then we’ll be parents.”

“Yep. Should be interesting.” Suddenly she grinned widely. “I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go celebrate our engagement.” Her pale green eyes glinted suggestively. “I’ll race you upstairs.”

Before he could agree, the girl was gone, and Jim laughed as he followed her upstairs. She was fun, and he enjoyed her company. And the sex was certainly good. He hadn’t been expecting it to lead to pregnancy, of course, but now that he’d gotten over the initial shock, he was alright with the thought. It would be interesting, as she’d said. And until the kid was born… well, if tonight was any indication, things promised to be fun.

Not all of it was fun, of course; the phone call he received from his sister a few days later wasn’t really fun at all.

“You’re an idiot,” she declared as soon as he answered the phone.

He rolled his eyes. “Hi, Jen. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, I was fine until I heard that my idiot of a brother decided to up and marry that bitch that I told him not to date.”

“For the love of god, Jenna, will you just shut up and mind your own business?”

“No. But I’ll leave you alone now. I just wanted you to know that you’re an idiot and that you will almost certainly regret marrying her.”

“Kay, thanks. Bye.” Jim shook his head as he hung up the phone. His sister was an interfering little scoundrel, but she was generally correct in her judgment of people. It hadn’t bothered him that much when he was only dating Marcie, but now that they were engaged, it was a bit unsettling. Was Jenna right about her, too? And if so, what did that mean for him? Just what kind of woman was he marrying?

\

/

She was twenty when she first confronted him with the word he’d been afraid she might become.

“Daddy, I am not a whore.”

He blinked. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a whore. I know that’s what you think, but it’s not the case, ok?”

“Ellen…” He sighed. “I don’t think you’re a whore.”

“Yes, you do,” she insisted. “Or you’re afraid I’ll become one. But I won’t. I’m not Mom.”

“I know you’re not,” Jim admitted. “I’m sorry.” Then he frowned. “But that doesn’t mean I approve of that shirt.”

She grinned and waved. “Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye.” He sighed again as he watched her leave the house. Off to meet her boyfriend. The man was twenty-eight, and as much as Jim wasn’t sure about that arrangement, he knew that she was right. She wasn’t Marcie, and he was glad of it. And in all the years he’d been worrying, she’d never once shown any inclination to turn out like her mother. Ari had, but she was out of the house now, and Jim was glad to wash his hands of her. She was still his daughter, true, and she had the blood claim that Ellen didn’t have, but that was where their bond ended.

He’d never liked to admit it, but Ellen had always been his favorite. He couldn’t explain it, he didn’t understand it, but he no longer tried to deny it.

\

/

She was fifteen months old the first time she used the word he’d remember long after anything else she ever said.

“Daddy.”