Tommy’s hug is tight. Mine is tighter. Ella approaches me once Tommy and I have settled down. “You must be Becca,” she says, her arms spread. I trust her enough to touch me, to hug me, to hold me, to keep our secret safe. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Tommy doesn’t stop talking about you.”

I look down at Tommy, his full set of baby teeth on show. He’s grown so much. His baby fat is gone, replaced with boyish cheekbones. His hair is thicker now, just like his dad’s and even though he still has his mother’s eyes, bright blue and for sure the cause of future heartbreaks, it’s his smile that captures all my attention—a smile just like his father’s.

I squat down so we’re eye to eye and hold up a finger. He nods enthusiastically, an uncontrollable burst of laughter filtering out of him. I point to him, then I rub his belly, making him laugh harder. He nods again, and I do the same when he points to mine.

Behind me, Josh says, “I think they’re hungry, Ma.” And just like that, we fall into step, Tommy by my side.

Ella says, peeking over her shoulder, “I made fried pickles, Becca. I heard they were you’re favorite.”

“Silly Nanni!” Tommy shouts. “Becca thinks fried pickles taste like poop!”

Josh chuckles as he stops at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for us to pass. Once we have, he walks next to us, his hand on the small of my back, mine wrapped around Tommy’s, and for a second, just one, I almost let love mean something.

*     *     *

Josh and his mother speak throughout dinner. They talk about Grams for a while and then discuss business. Against his mom’s wishes, Josh tells her to cancel his appearances for the next week. I shift uncomfortably when she mentions Chris and tells Josh that he won’t be happy, that he won’t understand, to which Josh tells her that he’ll have to deal with it.

Tommy talks to himself, and sometimes his food, promising to save some of his pasta shells as pets. He names one Shelly, another one Doofus, and another one Poop. Occasionally, I see Josh watching me, but I don’t make eye contact. I can’t. So I sit and I listen to three generations of Wardens and I ignore the fact that I’d never felt more at home, more accepted, more at peace than I do this very moment.

When dinner’s done, Josh and his mom clean up while Tommy takes me to his room and shows me all his new things—things that weren’t here two years ago. Toys, iPads, new clothes, an abundance of skateboards, and the holy grail of camera gear better than mine. My jaw drops as I practically fall to my knees, my eyes wide in shock. “Chris bought him all that for his birthday and Christmas. He spoils the shit out of him,” Josh says, leaning against the doorframe.

“Naughty word, Daddy!” Tommy shouts.

“Sorry, bud.” Josh moves to sit on Tommy’s bed and looks up at me. “He’s only now starting to understand how to use it all.”

I grab my phone out of my pocket and have Cordy to say, “He’s into photography?”

Josh laughs as Tommy removes the lens from the body and replaces it with another. “Yeah. More than he’s into skating, actually.”

Moments of silence pass while Tommy attaches an action-stabilizing handle to the camera. “Tommy doesn’t travel to my comps with me anymore, but he goes to the demo video shoots. He gets right in there and films it all.”

I sit down next to him and show him my phone. Is he any good?

Josh bites down on his bottom lip and shakes his head, his eyes wide. “Horrible,” he mouths, and I laugh a silent laugh. Then he says, “It’s getting late, Tommy. Time for bed.”

“Noooooooooooooo!” Tommy yells, but he’s already opening the drawers and picking out his pajamas. “Is Becca having a sleepover in your room like last time?”

Josh looks at me, his eyebrows raised in question, and the only thing I can do is stare back. “No. But you’ll see Becca tomorrow, okay? Promise.”

I leave the room while Josh helps Tommy change, noting that the house is empty which means Ella’s left, and return only when Tommy calls for me. He’s lying in his bed, his arms outstretched. “Good night, Becs!”

I give him a hug, smiling when he kisses my cheek. Then he starts to talk again, about anything and everything, doing whatever he can to prolong my stay. Josh’s hands find my waist, pulling me back. “Okay, bud. Lights out. Good night.”

Tommy yawns loudly. “Night, Daddy.”

Josh guides me out of the room and starts closing the door behind us, but Tommy yells, “Daddy, you forgot to do it!”