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“I do.” I open the fridge door and pull out a carton, pouring a small amount into the mug.
“Did you and Michael have a nice time last night?” June asks, a sly expression appearing on her heart-shaped face.
I’ve always thought that June looks like a ’50s Hollywood actress with her petite stature, curves, and dark curls. I met her at a playgroup one of the other receptionists at the law firm recommended to me.
Like me, she’s a single mom. She married her high school sweetheart when she found out she was pregnant with AJ. Her husband died before I met her, in a random shooting at a supermarket. Another instance to be chalked up as nothing you were meant to endure.
“Not exactly.” I wave my left hand at her so she can see the bandage on my palm. I removed the gauze wrapped around my whole hand this morning, not wanting Leo to see it.
June gasps. “What happened?”
“It was stupid. I was chopping a cucumber for the salad, and the knife slipped. It looks worse than it is. Michael took me to the ER for a few stitches.”
“Oh my God, Lyla. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It was stupid. I was just tired.”
June sips her coffee, studying me over the rim of her mug. “Did you quit working for Marshall yet?”
I sigh at the mention of my second job—data entry for a freelance company. I do it at night mostly, once Leo is in bed. “No. They offered me a raise.”
June clucks her tongue disapprovingly. “You can’t keep this up, Lyla.”
I lift and lower my right shoulder, looking down at my own coffee cup. “I need the money.”
“I could—”
I cover her hand with my right one. “I’mnottaking money from you, June.”
She’s raising her son on a single income, same as me. I know she’s trying not to touch her husband’s life insurance money to have as a cushion.
I soften my tone, knowing she has the best of intentions. “But thank you.”
The boys burst back into the kitchen.
“Mom!” Leo exclaims. “Check this out!”
I squint at the tiny action figure he’s holding up to me. “Who is it?” I ask after a few seconds of squinting and failing to figure out its relevance.
“It’s the Indiana Jones one I couldn’t find last week, remember?”
I nod, pretending to. For living in such a tiny place, it’s amazing how many toys Leo manages to misplace each day. Luckily, they all seem to turn up eventually. Or maybe it’s more of an inevitability than luck, based on the square footage of this place.
June smiles at Leo before ruffling AJ’s hair. “We should get going.” She glances down at her son. “We’ve got Sunday brunch at Grandma and Grandpa’s this morning.”
“We do?” An excited smile spreads across AJ’s face as he beams up at June.
My chest squeezes as I glance at Leo, who’s happily fiddling with his recovered toy.
As challenging as it was, growing up without a father and with a drug addict for a mother, it’s nothing in comparison to how I feel about the fact that Leo has no one else.
No grandparents.
No aunts or uncles or cousins.
No family at all, except for me.
If something happened to me, he’d end up in foster care, same as I did when I was only a little older than he is. The thought chills me to the bone—a possibility I torture myself with on a daily basis.
