“Yeah. I forgot I had plans with him,” I lie.

I grab my board and go back to skating in the driveway, waiting for them to show up. A half hour later they pull in and as soon as Tommy’s free from his seat he jumps out of their car and right into my arms. And all my other thoughts, feelings and questions become completely insignificant. “I missed you, buddy,” I tell him.

“Me too, Daddy,” he says quietly, squeezing my neck.

Robby walks over with Tommy’s backpack and hands it to me. “You good?”

I pretend to focus on brushing Tommy’s hair aside so I don’t have to look at Robby and, hopefully, he won’t be able to read me. “Uh huh. Thanks a lot for bringing him back.”

“He hasn’t had his morning snack,” Robby calls out as I climb the stairs up to my apartment.

“I’ll take care of it. Thanks again.”

After putting the bowl of fruit on the counter in front of Tommy, I ask, “Did you want to spend the money you earned? We could hit up the toy store and see what they got for you?”

His eyes light up with his smile. “Camera!”

My eyes narrow, but inside, I’m smiling. “I think you’re going to have to work a lot harder if you want a camera.”

His smiles drops, and so do his shoulders. “Okay.”

“What about a sandpit or something? You like the one at daycare right?”

He shrugs as he chomps on a piece of apple, his eyes lowered, and if a kid could get an award for being the saddest most pathetic looking apple eater in the entire world, he’d definitely win.

“Why do you want a camera, anyway?”

“Because Becca.”

“Because Becca has one, you want one?”

“She said it makes her happy.”

“Oh yeah? She said that?”

He nods, looking up at me now.

I tilt my head as I eye him curiously. “Does she talk to you a lot?”

He nods again.

“What do you guys talk about?”

With a shrug, he says, “You.”

“Me?” I clear my throat, my pulse spiking and my ears thirsty for more information. “What about me?”

“Can Becca come?”

“No. Tommy. Listen. This is really important. What does she say about me?”

“She can’t come?”

“Tommy!”

He finishes his fruit and gets off the stool, then walks the bowl to the sink. “Moneys?” he says, his hand out waiting.

“What does she say?” I ask, frustrated and fully aware of how tacky it is that I’m using my kid for intel on a girl I might possibly be crushing on. What can I say? I’m that kid in middle school and Tommy’s my best friend. He’s also hers. So right now, in my mind, it makes complete sense.

“I get da sandpit,” he says, shoving his hand right under my nose.

I bend down so I’m eye to eye with him, and then I do something really pathetic. “I’ll give you moneys if you tell me something she’s said about me.”

He smiles. “Five.”

I rear back. “What?”

“Five moneys.”

“How the hell old are you?”

“Naughty word, Daddy.”

With a roll of my eyes, I reach into my pocket, pull out my wallet, fetch a five-dollar bill and slap it in his tiny little hand.

His smile widens. “She wikes my smile,” he says, and starts walking to his room.

I follow him. “That’s not about me! What does she say about me?”

“Me handsome like you, daddy.”

I tell him he can invite Becca.

I also tell him not to hold his breath. Which apparently is a dumb thing to say to a kid. Why would I hold my breath? That’s a question he asks over and over while I change my clothes, over and over, and search the bathroom for the cologne I hadn’t worn since the bachelor party with the breastfeeding boob stripper.

“But why would I hold my breff?” he asks again, taking my hand as we descend down the stairs. It’s worse than the time I told him to hop out of the bath.

“It’s just a figure of speech, buddy.”

“Finger of peach?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Finger of peach.”

He runs up their porch steps and knocks wildly on the door, cackling the entire time. Chazarae answers and before she can speak, he runs into the house yelling, “Becca! Becca!”

Chazarae smiles as her eyes move from him to me.

“He wanted to invite Becca to hang out with us if that’s okay?”

“I hope he doesn’t get too disappointed. Becca hasn’t left the house since she’s been here.”

“Yeah, I figured,” I tell her. “It’s just he asked and I couldn’t—”

“You smell nice,” she cuts in, coming closer and sniffing me once. “New cologne?”

I shrug. “It’s old.”

“Hmm.” She eyes me sideways. Then reaches up and runs the back of her fingers across my cheek. “You’re blushing, Joshua.”

The human body is stupid.

Even though it knows that embarrassment is something you want to hide—it makes sure that you can’t hide it. I lower my head. “No, I’m not.”

Tommy squeezes between Chazarae and I and runs to my truck. “She said yes!”

You know what’s worse than your landlady calling you out on wearing cologne purely because you want to impress her granddaughter? I’ll tell you what. Being in the confined space of a truck while your son tells said granddaughter about how you paid him five moneys for him to tell you about what she said about you. Yeah. That’s happening. And if I thought the human body was stupid before, I’m pretty sure I hate it right now.