Fifty dollars an hour. I try to keep my expression neutral, but inside, I’m calculating. Even if I only worked four hours a day, five days a week, that would be a thousand dollars. About what I made working full-time at my old marketing job.
“That seems like way too much,” I manage.
“It’s not.” Jordan’s voice is firm. “I looked up what infant specialists charge in Boston. You’re actually underpriced.”
Ash tugs on my shirt. “Mom, can we go home now? I want to show you something.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” I look back at Jordan. “Are you sure about tomorrow morning? I can be here by nine if that works.”
“Nine is perfect.”
We say our goodbyes, and I follow Ash across the yard to our house. The three hundred dollars in my pocket feels heavy in a good way, like it represents the security I’ve been grasping for.
“Mom?” Ash drops his backpack by the front door. “Are you mad we spent the whole Saturday over there?”
I hang my keys on the hook by the door. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because it was supposed to be our day. You know, Saturday morning pancakes and hanging out.” He fidgets with the zipper on his backpack. “But then we ended up working instead.”
My chest tightens. He’s right. Saturdays are our time together, and I turned today into a job without even asking if he minded.
“I’m sorry, Ash. You’re absolutely right. I should have checked with you before agreeing to help Jordan all day.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugs, but there’s something in his expression that makes me kneel down to his level.
“No, it’s not okay. Your feelings matter, and I should have considered them.”
“Mom, really, it’s fine.” His face brightens. “I actually had fun. Henry’s really cute, and Jordan knows a lot about comics. Did you know he has first-editionX-Menissues?”
“I did not know that.” That makes me smile. So, Jordan is not only accomplished and attractive, with his rich-brown hair and eyes and tall, muscled physique, but he’s also a comic geek?
A hot comic geek.
“And he said maybe next time we could read some together, if that’s okay with you.” Ash bounces on his toes. “Plus, now you have a job again. That’s good, right?”
The relief in his voice breaks my heart a little. Nine years old, and he’s already learned to worry about money. It shouldn’t be this way.
“It’s very good.” I stand up and ruffle his hair. “How about we make some dinner? What are you in the mood for?”
“Grilled cheese?”
“Grilled cheese it is. As long as you eat some veggies with it.”
We work together in the kitchen, Ash setting the table while I heat the pan. The routine feels normal after a day that was anythingbutnormal. As the sandwiches sizzle, I watch Ash arrange napkins with the same careful attention he gave to entertaining Henry today.
“You were really good with Henry,” I tell him. “He seemed to calm down whenever you talked to him.”
“He likes funny faces. And when you make that voice, you know, the baby voice? He thinks that’s hilarious.”
“You’d make a good big brother.”
I almost regret saying it. I always wanted multiple kids, but that just hasn’t been in the cards for me. I ended up picking a man who couldn’t follow through, who couldn’t…
I push away the thoughts. No. Today was good, and I’m not going to spoil it by thinking abouthim.
Ash looks up from the napkins. “Do you think Jordan wants kids?”
The question catches me off guard. “I don’t know. Why?”
