That hesitation had stayed with me all week.
« How about Mom makes you one? »
Caleb was seven, and he shared his birthday with a boy in his class named Mason. Their teacher, Ms. Stevenson, had suggested celebrating both boys together at school so no one felt left out.
At the time, I thought it was a lovely idea.
Then I remembered who Mason’s mother was.
Vanessa.
Then I remembered who Mason’s mother was.
I’d only spoken to her a handful of times at pickup.
She was the kind of woman who wore heels to the school parking lot. Vanessa mentioned Mason’s private tutors and travel basketball teams within the first 30 seconds of any conversation.
« He’s already reading two grades ahead, » she’d told me once, adjusting her sunglasses. « I just believe in investing in them, you know? »
