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“Sorry, Mom, but they are. Admit it. They have something wonderful right in front of them, and they don’t see it.”
I felt the pressure build in my throat.
“Mom, you’re wonderful.” He got up from his seat and kissed me on the cheek.
A tear rolled down my face.
“I love you, Max,” I whispered.
He hugged me.
“I know. I love you, too, Mom.”
An hour and a half later, Kyra arrived back home, threw her large duffel bag into her room, and immediately disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower. She came out with her wet curly hair twisted into an oversize bun at the top of her head. Max and I were in the kitchen getting ready to make cookies.
She sat at the breakfast bar and asked, “Can I help?”
I was surprised. It was the first time since Kyra caught me kissing Ray that she’d spoken to me or looked me in the eye. “Yes, of course.”
“It’s for the firemen,” Max explained.
“Oh,” Kyra said, disappointment evident in her voice.
“We can make a separate batch for us,” I offered.
“Cool!” Kyra replied.
Max shouted, “Awesome!”
Two hours later, we had a container of cookies ready for delivery to the fire station. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was a little after eight thirty. Ray had previously mentioned the guys eat dinner late. I figured it would be a good time to drop off the cookies. We piled into the van and drove to the station. When I pulled up, I noticed Ray searching for something in an oversize toolbox. He paused when he saw us.
The kids and I got out of the van and approached him.
“Hi,” he said with guarded eyes.
“Hi,” I replied. Max was carrying the container of cookies, leading the way.
Pete saw us approaching and said, “Whatcha got there, Max?”
“Cookies,” Max announced.
“Yes!” Pete grabbed the container.
Kyra extended her hand, in which she held the thank-you card she had made on the computer. “And a thank-you card.” She gave it to Pete. He placed it on top of the container and took the goodies into the firehouse.
“Thank you,” Ray said, still guarded.
“No,” I explained, “I’m thanking you. All of you. I should have stopped by a lot sooner.”
“You could have returned my calls, too,” Ray said, his voice laced with bitterness and hurt.
I felt flushed.
I glanced down at my white canvas shoes and nodded. I stuck my hands in my back pockets and slowly looked back up at Ray. He was studying me.
“Pete!” Ray shouted, but he was still looking at me.
“Yeah, Captain?” Pete called from somewhere in the firehouse. He jogged back to where we were standing.
