« She said she wanted to help me sort out Noah’s school paperwork, » I added. « The medical forms have been driving me crazy. »
Something flickered across his face.
Just a shadow, gone before I could name it.
« Let her help, » he said. « You’ve been carrying too much. »
« I’ve been fine. »
« You’ve been carrying too much. »
« You always say that. »
I laughed, because he wasn’t wrong.
« Mom, do we have any orange juice? »
Noah shuffled into the kitchen in his pajama pants, hair sticking up in every direction.
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