“Mom,” Dylan says. I get up, opening the door, and I see them sitting at the table eating and laughing while they discuss hockey. “How many goals did I score in one game?”

“Which one?” I ask him, and he looks at Justin.

“Name one,” he says. “I scored in all of them.”

“Cocky,” Justin says and then looks at me, but his look is different this time. It’s soft. “Come eat.”

“I’m really not hungry. Dylan can have mine,” I tell them, knowing that there is nothing in the fridge today.

“He already had two,” Justin says, getting up. “Come and sit and eat something.”

I walk over, my pulse picking up as he holds out the chair for me. “Go get dressed,” I tell Dylan, who gets up and walks into the bedroom. Justin walks around the table and sits where Dylan just left. “Do you work today?” he asks, and I look down and then look up at him.

“No, not today,” I say, not ready to admit that I got fired.

“What are you doing today?” he asks. I think of all the errands I have to run, but I just shrug.

“Not much. Just laundry,” I say and take a bite of the sandwich that he brought. The buttery croissant melts in my mouth, and I take a sip of the hot coffee.

“Do you want to drive us to the rink and take the SUV again?” he asks. He leans back in the chair and stretches, his shirt coming up just a touch, giving me a glimpse of his lower abs.

“No,” I say, trying not to look but failing miserably. “I don’t need it.”

“Okay,” he says. “What are your plans this weekend?”

“I have to work,” I say. “Saturday afternoon and Sunday all day.”

“What about after work?”

“I have no idea,” I answer him. “I usually never make plans.”

“Good,” he says, smiling, and I just look at him. “We’ll have a barbecue at my place, and then we can go swimming.”

“Um …” I try to come up with an excuse that sounds good or at least something better than the fact I don’t own a suit. “I don’t know. Why don’t we see how we feel after the day is over?”

“Sounds good,” he says, and then Dylan comes out of the bedroom dressed in his uniform for camp. “Ready, buddy?” Justin gets up, and I follow suit, not sure I’m okay with him taking Dylan without me.

“Give me a hug,” I tell Dylan, who comes over and hugs me around the waist, and I kiss his head. “Have an amazing day.”

“You, too, Mom,” he says, and I lean down to kiss his lips. He walks away from me, and Justin is suddenly at my side.