t need both and didn’t want to have to fight to get Manny back in the papoose a second time. And because she hoped to distract him from the arm Michael needed by engaging his right hand.
With the little boy lying on the table, Lillie moved the toy cars as Michael situated him, keeping Manny engaged. The old line was out and the new one in before Lillie had a chance to move on to another distraction.
“All done!” Michael smiled and mouthed a silent “thank you” in her direction.
“Zoom!” Manny said, dry-eyed and ready to roll over the table some more as they released him from the papoose.
With an ear-to-ear grin, Lillie returned the little boy to his relieved mother. Disaster averted.
She’d distracted Manny—and herself, too. Her concerns about Abraham, her feelings for his father—those were distant.
This was her life.
Helping other people’s children.
And she was good at it.
* * *
WHEN HE GOT off work a couple of hours early on Monday, Jon didn’t head straight to the day care as he would normally have done. After calling Little Spirits to check up on Abe, he turned the truck toward Phoenix and a drugstore where he could buy some personal items without anyone in Shelter Valley finding out about it.
The existence of his sex life was none of their business. As it stood, he didn’t have a sex life. Might not have one ever again. But he’d already gone and created one child to the dismay of the child’s mother. He wasn’t going to risk a replay.
With the condoms safely hidden in his backpack, waiting to be transferred to his nightstand drawer, Jon stopped at a busy construction site trash compactor and reached for his expensive glass suction cups. He’d left them right where he always did. In the bucket with his furniture movers. They weren’t there. And then he noticed that the bucket had tipped over. The cups had fallen out. Grabbing them, he tossed them, pushed the button to destroy the evidence and drove away as quickly as the speed limit allowed to pick up his son.
Dinner that night was a messy affair. Jon made spaghetti that Abe insisted on feeding himself. After dinner, Jon took his son on a trip straight from the booster seat to the bathtub. After Abe’s bath, they retired to Abe’s playroom. Jon set himself up on the floor with his tablet and his laptop and Abe played happily—a normal, self-directed little man who was going to grow up to be president.
With or without a mama.
Life was good.
* * *
LILLIE WAS STILL working in her office Monday evening when her phone rang.
Jon. She should tell him about Abe’s tantrum that day—although it had been the shortest one yet.
It took her two rings to find the thing in the pocket of her big leather satchel.
The phone sounded a third time as she read the caller display.
Kirk.
Her heart sank to her stomach.
“Is this a bad time?” her ex-husband asked when she picked up.
Glancing out to the quiet hallway beyond her office door, Lillie bit back her initial reaction and said, “No. What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you, Lillie.”
They’d already been through this. “So talk.”
“I...just... Don’t hang up, okay? At least, not without... I’m breaking the rules already, aren’t I? Trying to tell you what you can and can’t do.”
He sounded odd.
“Where are you?”