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“What? How can you say that, Mom? It’s my hard work that pays for this apartment, and for Jack’s top tier, private daycare, or anything else for that matter.”

“Don’t get all huffy and defensive,” Mom said. “Deep down on some level you know I’m right. Ever since you got fired by, um…”

She looked over into the room where Damon was playing still.

“Him, you’ve been killing yourself trying to prove how hardworking and competent you are.”

“That’s not true,” I said, a little bit loud. Damon looked up from his dinosaurs and I cringed. I lowered my voice before I spoke again. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

Mom caressed my cheek like she did when I was little. It made me feel somewhat better.

“Look, Jenna, I don’t mind taking care of Damon while you’re working. But I’m not getting any younger. Someday I may not be able to do that for you anymore. And besides…”

She looked over at Damon and her lips became a thin, tight line.

“A child needs his mother, and you can’t be that for him if you’re always working. Someday I’m going to be gone.”

I rolled my eyes, and I have to admit I really didn’t like thinking about that sort of thing.

“That’s just old people talk,” I said, a little bit harshly. “You’re always going on about how you have one foot in the grave, and you’ll probably outlive all of us.”

“I don’t know about that,” Mom said with a sigh. I think she knew I didn’t like all of this talk about her dying. Her lips stretched in a small smile. “You know, I just thought of another reason you should call Evan and tell him that you’ve reconsidered, and you want the leadership role.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?” I asked, smiling a little myself because I could tell she was being mischievous. A good thing she was, too, because things had been getting pretty tense and we really needed an injection of levity at that moment.

“If you work for the new company, the newly merged one I mean, you might meet a good man.”

“Oh for fuc—”

I looked over at Damon and lowered my tone.

“For heavens’ sake, mom, will you give it a rest? I do not need a man in my life. Okay? I don’t.”

“Dear, don’t you ever get lonely, though?”

“No, I don’t get lonely,” I said scoffingly. Maybe a little bit too scoffingly. Her barbs were really landing that day. “I have Damon, and I have you, and, and…”

I couldn’t think of anything else.

“And that’s enough for me,” I said quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed that I really didn’t have anyone in my life but the two of them at that point.

“Well, okay, fine,” Mom said. “Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that you're right. You don’t want or need a man. That’s okay for you. But what about Damon?”

“What about him? You don’t think I can raise him on my own? Are you one of those misogynists who thinks that a man has to be present for everything or it turns out to be a disaster?”

“You’re deflecting, and that’s because you know I’m right. Damon asks about his father. A lot.”

“Not that much,” I said. “He hardly ever mentions it.”

“Sweetie,” Mom said with a sigh and a sad look in her eyes. “You’re almost never home, so how would you know?”

That really stung. I blinked back tears as I looked over at Damon.

“You know,” my mom said, going over to the fridge. “I have something to show you.”

She removed one of Damon’s crayon drawings. This one featured a man with yellow hair and a business suit smiling. It had the usual grotesque deformations of a young child’s drawing, and yet I thought that I could almost recognize the figure depicted.