I was doing just that when Chad came out, holding a page full of black circles.

“You love her?” he said.

Gretchen pulled away, swiped her eyes frantically. “No, no, honey, we’re just …”

“You’re sad. He wants to make you happy. Maybe he loves you.”

“Oh, baby, you’re so smart.” She spread her arms. “No, he’s a friend, he’s helping. And you know what I really want? For you to be happy.”

Chad stood there.

“C’mere, honey, give Mommy a hug.”

He walked over to me and held out the drawing. “For you.”

“Thanks, Chad.”

“You can come back. We’ll make Mommy happy together.”

Gretchen swooped him to her breast. “I am happy, honey, you make me so, so happy.”

The movement had pulled the air hose from her nostrils.

A hiss filled the room.

Chad said, “Put it back. So you can get better.”

“Anything you say, sweetie boy smart boy. Anything.” Plugging the line back in, she said, “Now come up on my lap and I’ll tell you a story.”

“No,” he said. “I’m too heavy.”

“You’re—”

“I’m big. I’m heavy.” Turning to me. “You can go, I’m helping her.”

Two hours later, Gretchen phoned and spoke to me in a new voice: low, measured, soft around the edges.

“I don’t know what you did but it was amazing. Until now he’s been pulling away from me, when I try to talk to him he ignores me. After you left we hung out and he was my snuggle-bunny again. He even let me tell him stories about when he was little. It was awesome. Like having my baby back. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I’m glad, Gretchen.”

A beat. “I’m not sure I like the flavor of that.”

“Of what?”

“Your tone,” she said. “Tentative. Like don’t get too happy, bitch, it could all come crashing down?”

“If I were you, Gretchen, I’d avoid interpretation. I’m glad it worked out. He’s a terrific little boy.”

Silence.

“You’re a tough one to read,” she said. “I can’t tell if you’re playing me. For all I know you’re watching porn on your computer while we talk.”

I laughed. “Too late in the day for multitasking.”

“But it is true, right? We had one good day but it could go back to the way it was and he could start shutting me out again.”

“Kids have moods like anyone else. There’s no way to predict.”

“Seize the day, huh? Shut the fuck up and stop thinking about me, me, me and enjoy what I’ve got.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said.

“Just answer one thing for me: Can someone be a terrible person but still a good mom?”

“You’re a good mom, Gretchen.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“From my perspective, you’re a caring, skillful mother.”