“Fixed,” I agreed.
Later, I stood at the kitchen sink drying my hands and heard him carry Alex down the hallway. The bedroom door clicked most of the way shut, the way it always did.
I moved closer. I don’t know why. I just did.
“Remember what I told you, buddy,” Brandon murmured through the crack. “That’s our thing. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”w
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Something in me tightened.
I opened my mouth to ask, then closed it.
Whatever their little game was, it was theirs. I didn’t want to be the mom who barged in and broke something small and sweet.
I turned and walked back to the kitchen.
I told myself it was nothing.
I told myself Brandon would have said if it mattered.
I was wrong about both.
The new forks arrived on a Tuesday. There were 48 of them, sealed in plastic, and stamped with a cheerful little brand logo.
