“Honey, it wouldn’t have made any difference. It’s not like I’m going to quit my job.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I joked.

He didn’t say anything.

“John?”

Daisy picked a red ball from the floor and hung it on the tree.

“Mine!” DJ grabbed the ornament. Daisy smacked him.

I leaped to separate them. “No, no. Are you okay?” I asked DJ.

He clutched the red ball to his chest. “Mine.”

“Sweetie, I know you like the red ones. But you have to share. And Daisy, no hitting. We don’t hit. We have to use our words, okay? Tell DJ you’re sorry.”

“I not sorry. DJ bad.”

“Nobody’s bad,” I said.

Daisy scowled. DJ’s little face was flushed, his lower lip jutting dangerously.

“All right, kids, hug it out. Come on,” John ordered when they dragged their feet. “Bring it in. Group hug.”

He swept them into his lap, hugging them, loving them, tickling them. Wrestling with them until they giggled and squirmed.

“John.” I hesitated. Use your words. “Do you have a tournament this weekend?”

His jaw set. “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to the farmers’ market.”

“Could we at least please talk about it?”

He kissed the top of Daisy’s head. Set DJ on his feet. “Nothing to talk about.”

“I could take the twins with me,” I said.

“To the farmers’ market.”

I smiled. “Better than to a wrestling match.”

He didn’t laugh. “Why don’t you ask Hannah to watch them?”

“She’s in California, visiting James. Anyway, I can do it.”

Shouldn’t he be relieved? Why couldn’t he just say thank you? I was trying to be supportive here.

Oh. Oh. I covered my mouth with my hand. All those times he’d offered to help and I’d turned him down . . . I’d never realized how it felt from this side. His side. Not good. “Please, John,” I said. “Let me do this for you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “If that’s what you really want.”

“I want us to be . . .” Together. Connected. The way we used to be. “Partners,” I said.

“Then . . . Thanks.” He met my eyes. “Partner.”

CHAPTER 15

Jo

You know, if you feed it,” Frank said on Friday morning, “you’ll never get rid of it. You’re only encouraging it to stay.”

You and me both, cat.

I straightened from my crouch in the alley, scaring the skinny black cat into retreat under the shadow of the Dumpster. The midday sun barely penetrated between the buildings. A crust of salt caked the curb, and icy slush filled the potholes, but everything inside me was sunshine and rainbows. “Who says I want to get rid of it? Cats keep down the mice.”

“You’re such a hick,” Frank said.

“Please. Every bodega in the city has a cat. They chase the rats out of the snack aisles.”

Truth. But I would have fed the cat anyway. Spreading the joy, right? Sharing the love.

My face flushed despite the cold. Not that this was love. Exactly. Yet.