“Does your dad break his promises to you?”

“No.” Jack’s head drooped.

“Don’t be sad, Handsome Jack. When we get to my house, we’re going to read a story about another Jack. The one with the beanstalk.”

“Can I have a cookie?”

“Yes.” In love, she gave him a hard squeeze.

He was asleep almost before Jack sold his cow for magic beans.

Poor little boy, she thought, tucking a light throw over him. Poor Brody.

She began to think she hadn’t given the man enough credit. Parenthood wasn’t all wrestling on the floor and ball games in the yard. It was also tears and tantrums, disappointments and discipline. It was saying no, having to say no, when your heart wanted to say yes.

“You’re so well loved, Handsome Jack,” she murmured and bent over to kiss the top of his head. “He needs you to know that.”

And so is he, she thought with a sigh. “I wish the man would buy a clue. Because I’m not waiting much longer. I want both of you.”

When the phone rang, she snatched it from the cradle. “Hello. Ah.” Smiling now, she walked out of the room so as not to disturb Jack. “Davidov. What have I done to deserve a call from the master?”

Later, though she admitted it was foolish, Kate freshened her makeup and tidied her hair. It was the first time she would meet Brody’s parents. Since she intended for them to be her in-laws, she wanted to make a good impression.

Jack had wakened from his nap energized. This had called for some running around the backyard, a fierce battle with action figures and a race with miniature cars that had resulted in a satisfying wreck of major proportions.

They finished the entertainment off with a snack in the kitchen.

“My dad’s mad at me,” Jack confided over slices of apple and cheese.

“I don’t think so. I think he’s a little upset because he couldn’t give you what you wanted. Inside, parents want to give their children everything that would make them happy. But sometimes they can’t.”

She remembered throwing some impressive tantrums herself—snarls followed by sulks. And ending, she thought, like this in guilty unhappiness.

“Sometimes they can’t because it’s not the best thing, or the right thing just then. And sometimes because they just can’t. When your little boy cries and yells and stomps his feet, it makes you mad for a while. But it also hurts your heart.”

Jack lifted his face, all big eyes and trembling lips. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. And I bet if you tell him you’re sorry, you’ll both feel better.”

“Did your dad ever yell at you?”

“Yes, he did. And it made me mad or unhappy. But after a while, I usually figured out I deserved it.”

“Did I deserve it?”

“Yes, I’m afraid you did. There was this one thing I always knew, even when I was mad or unhappy. I knew my dad loved me. You know that about your dad, too.”