"Thank you!" he says, beaming up at me.
"You're welcome, buddy." I pull out the other toys, watching his excitement grow with each reveal.
The simple joy on his face is like nothing I've ever experienced. Pure and uncomplicated happiness that I somehow helped create.
Sidney approaches, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "You didn't have to do that," she says quietly.
"I wanted to." I stand, suddenly aware of how close she is. "Something smells good."
"Chicken soup," she says. "I hope that's okay. I used what was in your freezer."
"More than okay," I assure her. "I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me."
She smiles, and for a moment, I'm struck by how prettier she is when she's not exhausted and terrified. "It's the least I could do, after everything you've done for us today."
"How's his tooth?" I ask, watching Max arrange his new cars in a line.
"Much better. The antibiotics are helping already, and he hasn't complained about pain since we got home."
Home. There's that word again.
"Good. That's good." I run a hand through my hair, suddenly at a loss for what to say. "The meeting went fine. Nothing urgent."
She nods, not pressing for details, which I appreciate. "Soup's almost ready, if you're hungry."
"Starving, actually." I haven't eaten since breakfast.
We settle at the kitchen table, Max in his makeshift booster seat. The soup is delicious, rich with chicken, vegetables, and herbs I didn't even know I had. Max eats slowly, avoiding the side of his mouth where the tooth was removed.
"This is really good," I tell Sidney after my second bowl.
"It's nothing fancy," she replies. "But I'm glad you like it."
"Bike man," Max says, pointing at my chest where my cut would usually be. "Where bike shirt?"
It takes me a second to realize he means my leather vest with the club patches. "At the clubhouse, buddy. I don't always wear it."
"I want one," he declares.
Sidney and I exchange glances, and I see the worry in her eyes. She doesn't want him associated with the club, with that lifestyle. I can't blame her.
"Maybe when you're older," I say. "Much older."
This seems to satisfy him, and he returns to his soup.
After dinner, Sidney gives Max his medicine and starts washing dishes. I join her at the sink, grabbing a towel to dry.
"You don't have to do that," she says.
"My house, my dishes." I take a plate from her. "Besides, you cooked."
Max plays with his new toys on the kitchen floor, making vrooming sounds for the cars and having the stuffed dog "drive" one of them.
"Thank you for today," Sidney says finally. "The dentist, the groceries, the toys... it's more than I expected."
I glance at her. "What did you expect?"
She shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "I don't know. Maybe that you'd deny he was yours. Or that you'd give us some money and send us on our way."
