It’s a month into the school year, and Tim Reese has become a frequent visitor to our house.

After he fixed the sink and the doorknob, he and Josh embarked on a seemingly endless list of projects to tackle in the house. After all, the house is kind of old, so there was a lot that needed fixing. And after they got done fixing everything, they got the idea to build a bookcase for Josh’s room. This weekend, they’re going to be painting it. (Neon green, apparently.)

Although I was anxious about moving here, my reservations have all melted away. Working at the prison has its ups and downs (I haven’t seen Shane once in the last month, but he is still very much there), but I have never seen Josh happier than he’s been out here. He loves school, and more importantly, he’s bonded with Tim in a way that has really surprised me.

When I get home tonight, I smell the delicious aroma of garlic and butter. I’m pretty sure those are Margie’s two favorite ingredients in the whole world. And there is no nicer smell to come home to.

I find Margie in the kitchen, arranging a tray of garlic butter shrimp. I want to just inhale them, they look so good.

“I made extra,” Margie tells me, “since I assume that nice Tim will come for dinner.”

I start to protest, but then I realize Tim has come over for dinner at least half a dozen times in the last two weeks. And he’s had us over to his house three times.

“Yes, he said he was probably coming,” I mumble.

Margie laughs. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about having a boyfriend, Brooke.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Margie gives me a look and I shake my head. “He’s not. We’re just friends.”

It’s the truth. Tim has hung out here a lot in the last month, but nothing has happened between the two of us. He hasn’t tried to kiss me. When we watched a movie a few days ago, he didn’t yawn and attempt to put his arm around my shoulder. We are friends—like always. His realization that Shane and I have a kid together has vanquished any feelings he had for me.

“I should warn you then,” Margie says, “Josh is asking some very interesting questions about him.”

Oh no. What does that mean?

After Margie has taken off for the night, I go into the living room, where Josh is playing with his Nintendo. He is entirely focused on the game, his tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrates. His expression is strangely familiar, and it takes me a second to realize with a jolt that Shane used to make that same exact face when he was concentrating on something.

“Hey, Josh.” I sit down next to him on the couch. “How was school today?”