“We’re getting by.”

“You look pretty.”

She thought of telling him about the job interview but didn’t. He didn’t deserve to know.

“How are the kids?”

You don’t have a right to ask about them.

But of course he had a right to ask. He would always be their father. In some ways, she was glad to hear him ask. It showed that he missed them, at least in his own way.

“They’re fine.”

“Is Tom playing ball?”

“Daryl—”

“Is he?”

“That the only thing that matters to you?”

He paused, looking at her. Normally Daryl had fight rising up inside of him and filling those eyes, but now the glance that she saw only looked empty. “I just—I’m just wondering.”

“No. The truth is he couldn’t try out for the team. Not this year. Going to a new school is hard enough. And in our circumstances, it’s even harder. And the poor guy couldn’t even do the thing he loves to do the most.”

“Sounds like you’re blaming me,” Daryl said.

“You’re darn right I’m blaming you.”

That angry viper look filled his face for a moment, but this time it didn’t last. It didn’t have the fuel necessary to keep going. Daryl suddenly looked defeated again. Defeated and old.

So very old for a man still only in his thirties.

“I’m sorry, Lynn.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“We’re not coming back home.”

“I didn’t come here to ask you that.”

“Then why are you here?”

Daryl picked up the spoon and held it firmly as if he was trying to bend it. He glanced around the diner and then stared at her again.

“Christmas is just a little ways away. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“We’re doing fine.”

That face, so full, so sad, so scarred. He stared at her for a moment, apparently trying to figure out what to say next. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. He put it on the table and for a moment it just sat there.

“Take it,” Daryl said. “It’s yours. It’s not much. You know I don’t got a lot, but it’s yours. Saved it up the last five months.”

Lynn swallowed.

This was her answer to prayer? This?

For a moment she tried to tell herself that there was no way she was going to take charity from this man. No way.

You asked for something and God gave you something.

It took every amount of strength inside of her to simply move her hand across the table to pick up the envelope.

“It’s seven hundred bucks,” he said. “Not a lot, but you know . . .”

“Where’d you get it?”

He looked at her and then shook his head. “Aw, don’t give me that.”

They still talked like husbands and wives. Not needing to say everything because they both knew what the other was thinking.

“You’ve never had seven extra dollars, much less seven hundred,” she said.