When Hank came home from school, he took one look at his mother and asked if he could go over to his friend Louie’s house to play until dinner. Feeling guilty, Shay smiled and ruffled his hair. “Have you got any homework?”

“They don’t give much homework in the first grade, Mom. I can do it when I get home,” he said indulgently.

“Oh.”

Hank was perched on the arm of her chair, his eyes taking in the paint smudges on her face, her tangled hair, the coveralls. “Do you like your new job, Mom?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but I’m sure I’ll like it a lot.”

“Will you have to dress like that?”

Shay laughed. “No. I painted my office today, that’s all.”

“I thought the contractors were supposed to do all that stuff.”

“I wanted to do my office myself. And don’t ask me why, tiger, because I don’t know.”

“Are we going to live over there, where your office is, I mean?”

Shay shook her head. “There won’t be room, once all the other shops open. I rented the last one today.”

“You didn’t rent Grammie’s knit shop out, did you?” Hank demanded. Rosamond had always been Rosamond to him, but Alice, who had won his affections instantly, was “Grammie.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Shay said with a frown. “What made you ask a thing like that?”

Hank’s thin shoulders moved in a shrug. “I was just wondering.”

Shay didn’t believe him. Somehow, in the uncanny way of a child, he’d sensed that she and Alice had had words. She felt ashamed of her outburst now and made a mental note to call Alice and apologize the moment Hank went outside to play. “Grammie’s looking forward to having you help her at the shop.”

Hank looked manfully apologetic. “I won’t be able to go every day. I’ve got Little League practice and stuff like that.”

“I’m sure Grammie will understand.”

“And the guys might tease me if they see me messing around with yarn and junk.”

Shay kept a straight face. “They might.”

Hank brightened. “I’d better go and find Louie now. See ya.”

“You be back here in half an hour, buddy,” Shay warned. “Supper will be ready then.”

“Okay, Mom,” he called, the sound mingling with the slamming of the front door.

Shay got out of her chair, took a quick shower and put on her bathrobe and slippers. This was a night to be dissolute, she decided as she put hot dogs on to boil and opened a can of pork and beans to serve with them. After tearing the top off a bag of potato chips, she dialed Alice’s number.

“I’m sorry,” she said without preamble.

“Call Mitch Prescott and tell him the same thing,” Alice immediately responded.

Shay stiffened. “I will not.”

“You’re a fool, then,” Alice answered. “A man like that doesn’t come around every few months, like quarterly taxes and the newest reality show, you know.”

“You’re impossible!”

“Yes,” Alice agreed. “But you love me.”