The town was clean. There were flowers decorating Cross Street and the boardwalk. The 4th of July decorations had been effusive but attractive. The roads were nice. There was a small police station that resembled the fire station in its age, size and quaintness. They had an extensive recycling program.

But there was also money in that town. Coastal properties that I knew from experience cost a good deal. Shops that were not inexpensive in the slightest that stayed in business because someone was patronizing them regularly. Very nice restaurants.

Everyone paid taxes and with property tax alone, there had to be money in the coffers for more than flowers, holiday decorations, decent roads (which might not be the town’s responsibility at all but the county’s or the even the state’s), recycling and street sweeping.

“It was cool what you did for those kid boxers.”

My thoughts about the town’s finances flew out the window as my eyes shot to my son.

His voice was strange.

Not sleepy.

Regretful.

When I caught his eyes, I saw that tone reflected in them and felt my heart squeeze.

Auden went on, “My friend Joe and his little brother are both in that league, though Joe’s in the young adult portion. But Joe’s family isn’t rolling in it. They can’t afford gloves and shorts and all the other stuff they need. Same as wrestling, I guess, it not being fun to put on sweaty headgear a hundred other guys have used before you, even if it is cleaned.”

I looked to my son feeling a great deal but saying nothing.

“Joe was freaking ecstatic you raised all that money. He’s into that. Boxing. Been in that league for five years. Says this year, because of that money, it’ll be the best one yet.”

“Well, now I’m happier I did it than I was before,” I replied.

“It was cool,” he repeated softly.

Instead of weeping, I gave him a gentle smile.

“Been a dick,” he whispered.

Our conversation had turned to a place I did not want my son to go.

My nose started stinging and I whispered back, “Auden. Don’t.”

“Thinking on it, you had your reasons,” he said.

“I did,” I agreed. “But I should have shielded you from it.”

“I guess,” he muttered unconvincingly.

I slid closer to him and stated, “We’re all moving on. That’s done. Behind us. Now is now. And now is good. So let’s stick in the now, honey.”

His head tipped to the side, his gaze evading mine, and it looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t say it.

He said, “I can stick in the now.”

“Good,” I replied.

He caught my eyes. “Are you happy?”