She was the kind of woman who wore heels to the school parking lot.
I’d nodded and said something polite about Caleb loving second grade.
She smiled at me the way people smile at a stray dog.
Standing in my kitchen at almost two in the morning, I kept picturing whatever cake Vanessa would sweep into that classroom. Something towering. Something professional. Something that would make mine look like a child had made it.
I pressed my hands over my face.
She smiled at me the way people smile at a stray dog.
« It counts, » I whispered to myself. « It counts because I made it. »
I wasn’t sure I believed that.
I covered the cake with a cardboard box, set my alarm for 6 a.m., and finally shuffled off to bed. I didn’t sleep so much as close my eyes and wait for the sun.
***
