Page 12 of Fierce-Baker

But he was nodding his head as if it were a Picasso and in her mind it absolutely was.

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “I love it.”

“He had a lot of fun,” Hannah said.

“Then I might have to get him some for home.” Along with an old T-shirt of hers to put on him and an easel with papers under it. Maybe he could do it outside on the patio.

Just another toy to add to the growing list of things for her son.

Sometimes she wished it weren’t just her. That it wasn’t so hard to do it on her own.

But she’d made that decision in life, and she wouldn’t regret it. It was better than having to deal with Shane just to get support.

Or to feel the shame of judgment when people found out she’d been dating a married man. As if sheknewhe was married and was some home wrecker.

It might be better than the alternative. Pity for being too stupid to figure out what he’d been doing.

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Hannah said. “See you tomorrow.”

She carried Micah to her car even though her son was wiggling to get down and take off as if he had propellers on his Nikes.

As thrilled as she was when he started walking at twelve months old, she wasn’t so thrilled when she realized she couldn’t walk out of the room for two seconds and he was gone.

The minute she walked in the door of their rented townhome, she set him down and watched his dash for the back corner where all his toys were stored in his box. They’d be littered across the floor in minutes, but it’d keep him occupied while she quickly changed out of her Fierce Brewing shirt.

“Don’t leave the room, Micah.”

He wasn’t paying attention, but she was. Toys were cascading through the air behind him as he searched for the exact one he wanted.

She pulled her red shirt off and tossed it in the hamper. She’d deal with laundry tonight before her shift tomorrow, even though she had more than one shirt. She worked four days, nine thirty to four. Later than her days teaching, but it wasn’t a huge deal and Micah had fun at daycare.

The extra money came in handy since she had to pay for his care for the summer anyway.

When she returned to the living room, Micah was sitting in the center of the floor, five cars lined up as if they were going to race around the teddy bears and books that were all strategically placed as a track.

She loved his imagination. How he saw something once and then tried to replicate it.

“Are you hungry, Micah?”

He nodded his head, his bright blue eyes, the same as hers thank God, widened as he said, “Food.”

The big island opened toward the living room, with her table tucked off to the side. The townhouse she rented gave her far more space than she’d had before. She still wasn’t thrilled about having a tenant above her, but the woman was quiet and kind, and in return, she did her best to keep Micah’s volume down without ever dimming his joy.

She popped the leftover chicken from last night into the microwave to cut up into tiny pieces for her son, then got mashed potatoes and carrots to heat the same.

Making bigger meals three times a week and eating them leftover not only saved her time and money, but her sanity when she was exhausted.

Once it was all on his plate, she set it on the table and the noise of the plastic hitting the wood was like a starting gun for her son to stand up and race toward her.

“I guess you’re hungry.” She picked him up to buckle him in the seat, then returned to the island to assemble her salad that she’d put sliced chicken over.

“Play outside,” Micah asked with his mouth full, pointing out the glass doors.

“We can,” she said. “But then you need a bath.”

“Toys,” he said. “Water.”

“Yep, you can play with your water toys.”