He handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “This is your advance, keep track of your hours and let me know when you’re due for more.”

The house was even huger than it looked from the outside, with cathedral ceilings and white walls. Real bright, even with the lights off. Probably cheery when furnished.

Now, to Felicia’s surprise, it was totally empty. And really pretty clean-looking. But it was Nick’s money and she liked the feel of that hundred in the pocket of her jeans.

Emilio was still snoozing away. Felicia looked for a place to park the stroller.

Nick smiled, whispered, “Cute,” led her to a room at the back, where he’d set up a toddler gate and some toys. Unbelievable.

When she tried to thank him, he shrugged, took the stroller and wheeled it into a corner.

Sunlight glowing through a big, spotless window turned patches of oak floor gold. No glare on Emilio; Nick had put the stroller in a cool, shady corner — such a considerate man. Through the glass, Felicia saw a really lush tropical-type garden and a blue lap pool. She wondered what Stuart would think of the plantings. They looked okay to her but she wasn’t picky.

Cute toys, some of them still in boxes. Nick grinned.

“I can’t believe you took the time, sir.”

“No big whoop, Felicia.”

Using her name like they’d known each other for a long time.

She said, “To me, it sure is. This had to cost—”

Nick placed a finger on her lips. “The main thing is when he wakes up he’ll get all jazzed.”

“He will for sure, these are just what he likes — do you have kids, sir?”

“Not yet. I went over to Toyland, asked the salesgirl.”

“That is so—”

“Felicia, if no one went the extra yard, the world would be a pretty sad place — c’mon, let me show you the gig. Anytime you need to tend to Little Man, feel free.”

Felicia felt her eyes swell.

Maybe Nick sensed her emotion. “I like to help,” he said. “Kind of selfish, really. Makes me feel good.”

Emilio woke up in an okay mood. The toys overwhelmed him and he got hyper, but then he calmed down and focused on some plastic cars. Making that serious-old-man crunched-up face that reminded Felicia of her dad in Florida.

The only funny thing was, Emilio didn’t seem to like Nick, got all whiny when Nick tried to talk to him. But her son was a shy boy, not used to strangers.

The main thing, he was occupied and Felicia could work steadily.

The “gig” was different; you couldn’t ask for anything easier.

Felicia wondered why Nick was willing to pay someone to drymop every inch of wall and floor, scrub down granite counters and appliances in the clearly unused kitchen.