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“You can’t exactly distract me every night, can you?”

I sigh, getting her point.

I tell her my custody schedule, not seeing a way around it. She tells me she’s often gone on Thursdays or Fridays, but it varies. I don’t get an explanation, because that would be too easy.

If I’m correct in the pattern I’ve noticed, then we’ll end up staying with my parents on Fridays or Saturdays. That could beso much worse. Having a set schedule could really be helpful here, it would take so much stress off of our plates.

And it’s not like it’s a hardship to be one of her distractions. It’s downright fun when I’m not overthinking everything I know anddon’tknow about her.

“Deal,” I say. I even put my hand out to shake on it, and she takes it.

“See you Sunday,” she purrs.

19

Vic's daughter is born when I'm at work. I rush around, trying to get someone to cover for me, but it's never that simple.

By the time I make it to the hospital, Vic and Angeline are asleep. They've had all of their visitors come and go. Julian is halfway unconscious himself, but awake enough to let me know I should visit another time. Probably when they're home and settled in.

I hesitate to go, wanting Vic to know I showed up. She understands my work situation, and I know she wouldn't be upset that I couldn't just leave the store unattended. It's the reality of retail management.

But I like the part that I missed, and I know it would've meant more to Vic to see me sooner. It wouldn't meant more to me to see Angeline's eyes, or hold her when she was first awake and taking everything in. Brand new babies are so special, the way you can tell just how they're trying to process what they'relooking at. It's a uniquely beautiful thing, one you don't get to see often.

She won't be a mastermind or anything in a day or two, at least I don't think, but I'm still upset I missed it today.

Julian promises to pass along that I was here, and that I'm sorry. I text her to reiterate the same thing, just in case.

Every time my neighbor and I are together, I think of a new question to ask, although I rarely get a chance to actually ask them before she’s ushering me out of her apartment. The ones I have snuck in usually go unanswered.

Where do you go on Thursdays or Fridays?Nowhere that’s my business.

What are you going to school for?To get a higher education.

What led to you moving in here?Needing a place to live.

She’s quite the locked box.

Tonight she shocked me by asking her own question.

“When did you get divorced?”

I blink at her, thinking she can’t be serious.

“What makes you think I want to satisfy any ofyourcuriosity?”

“Fine. If you tell me, I’ll tell you whenIgot divorced.”

I gape.

“You’ve been divorced?”

“See, I’m already giving you info. Your turn.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to know anything about me,” I point out.

She rolls her eyes, losing her patience. I’m getting kicked out any second now.

“I’m just curious. You seem young.”