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Title: Whose Child is This? Summary: Would he know when he looked into the child's eyes, would Bill know? He detested cigarettes, the young man thought as he closed the book he was reading. The man smoking beside him was getting on his nerves. Picking up his jacket, he went to pace in the hallway. He didn't have many friends and Bill was one of them, what would he do if Bill found out he might have fathered the child Teena was now giving birth to. Would he know when he looked into the child's eyes, would Bill know? There was a chance the young one was Bill's, it wasn't improbable. Teena heard the cries of her little boy before he was even separated from her body. Bill was crying, sobbing heavily as he looked at his little boy and Bill didn't cry. What if it wasn't his boy though? They laid the screaming baby on her chest. He was outside of her now; A part of the cold cruel world, and already his identity was a mystery. "He has my chin," Bill said looking at the little boy, tears streaming down his face. Maybe he was right, but Teena saw a very old soul reflected in her son. It reminded her of that quiet man who had loved her so tenderly in that summer home. Teena shook the thoughts from her head, for she knew Bill loved her too. He ran his home like A well-oiled machine, he took care of her, and he had their whole life orderly and planned. It wasn't that she didn't love him, how could one not love someone who knew her so well, who took such good care of her, but he had no mystery in him. This dark secret of her passionate love for his friend was all she had left that wasn't a part of his well oiled machine, his quiet friend had brought out a side of her she thought she had lost. He came into the room when our boy was neatly wrapped in a blanket and lying in my arms. The tender way he looked at the little boy made my heart melt, but by then I began to see Bill in my little boy too, he still had no name. Bill had called him Bill Jr. for months, but I didn't know if that should be his name since he may be no Jr. at all. "What are we going to name him?" I asked in front of them both. "Bill Jr. of course," my husband said without hesitation. "I don't know," his friend said looking at the boy. "Wouldn't you like your boy to be more individual than that." I looked down at the animals on his blanket. The figure that stood out was the Fox. The deceitful Fox, famous in many a children's story for trying to con other animals. Isn't that what I was doing, conning my trusting husband into thinking I knew without a doubt that this boy was his. "Fox," Teena whispered to herself. "Fox is no name," Bill replied, though Teena hadn't meant it as a name-she was just thinking out loud. "Actually I like it," his friend replied, never cracking a smile. Somehow he always maintained his cool demeanor. "He can have your name as a middle name Bill. Instead just being a Jr., he'll have a name of his own as well as yours. Fox William Mulder." He moved close to me and the child. "May I?" he asked presenting his hands. I gave him the child. "This boy is going to make his father proud." Bill didn't miss the glances between his wife and his friend, but he ignored them. He'd never like that look of escape in Teena's eyes that slowly began to settle in as their marriage progressed. She was A good wife, kept house well, cooked. cleaned, but she lost her joy in married life. And while she was pregnant, she had glowed. And he had glowed knowing finally he would have a child. His friend gave the baby to him and left the room, leaving Bill to his family, his Family, the words flushed on Bill like a storm as he looked down at Fox. He couldn't believe he had condoned calling his child Fox.
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