They had big hearts, and they’d passed that on to their son. Lane showed his generosity in other ways, too—he volunteered for a handful of organizations, including delivering meals to people going through chemo. Ronnie had gone with him on a few of the delivery runs, and she’d noticed that Lane didn’t just drop and go—he wanted to spend time with the people. Brighten their days. Like with Jerry whatever-his-name-was, the man who’d given Ronnie the cancer bracelet Andrea had also been wearing. Lane had stood on his porch and chatted with the old man and his wife about the Yankees for almost twenty minutes. Ronnie was pretty sure Lane didn’t even like baseball, yet he listened with rapt interest.

In fact, at first, Ronnie worried that he only saw her and Esme as a kindness crusade, too. They were a mother and child fleeing from abuse, and Lane always called Ronnie brave, like she’d overcome some major adversity. Little did he know it was more complicated than that. But as time went on, Lane did seem to love her for her. She taught him to bird-watch, which she’d done with her father when she was young. They enjoyed the same British mystery programs. They started a book club where they’d read the same novels and then discuss—Lane had better insights than Ronnie’s senior English teacher. They had joyful outings with Esme, who bonded with Lane easily. After a while, Ronnie began to relax into the relationship and enjoy loving Lane. Maybe she would actually get her happily ever after.

And yet, there was so much unsaid. So much Lane didn’t know. Topless Maids was the tip of the iceberg. And now, that fucking note on Esme’s device.

“Day two is in the books,” Lane said now, lacing his hands behind his head and looking out on the horizon. It was Tuesday evening. Most of the preschoolers started the following day, on an abbreviated “easing-in” schedule, but Lane’s kindergartners were pros, so they’d started today. Esme would have to go back Thursday, though, and it filled her with dread. “Feels like the year is getting off to a good start. Nobody’s melted down. Nobody’s been left out. Everyone loved the book I read about the superhero potato.” He grinned.

“Well, that’s good,” Ronnie tried to sound cheerful as she crunched on a pita chip. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And Esme, too. She’s excited to go again on Thursday, right?”

“I think so.”