“I’m not swimming, am I?” Miles is fully clothed, slumped on the bench with his arms crossed, and a frown coloring his sweet, chubby features.

“No, look what I got.” I hold up the blue swim trunks, but now he’s glowering at me.

“Mom, that’s just gross. I’m not wearing someone else’s swimming suit.”

For a split second, I consider acting offended, but even though it is gross, I might have stooped that low, if I had to. With a giggle, I sit beside him and wrap my arm around his shoulders, pulling him into me.

“No, they’re brand new. Alex gave them to you. But you better hurry up because they’re all in the water.”

He jumps off the seat. His big, gray eyes widen, and he snatches the clothing from me.

“Really? He’s the best! But, Mom, it’s your fault I’m late. You need to tell Alex, so he won’t be mad at me.”

Shaking my head, I glance at the wet concrete floors and close my eyes. While the medicine is helping, exhaustion is lingering in the shadows.

“I know, buddy. It’s my fault, and Alex knows that. He won’t be mad at you.”

He wraps his small arms around my neck and squeezes tight. His hug helps ease the catastrophe of the morning and lessen the weariness in my body.

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

Warm and cuddly Miles only lasts a moment before he bolts for the pool with me close behind. I sit on the bench with the other parents and watch, but before long, the heat and medicine weigh me down and sleep comes.

“Mom! Mom!”

Opening my eyes, my little boy is shouting from above me. I’m prone on the bench, my head partially resting on a woman’s leg. Springing upright, I gasp and turn to the woman.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m not feeling well, and I must have zoned out,” I ramble, raking my fingers through my matted hair.

“It’s okay, dear.” The older woman smiles and pats my hand. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You looked like you needed it.”

I swallow hard at the sound of Alex’s chuckle and pivot to face my son and his swim instructor. Both are dripping wet, staring at me—one with a smirk and the other with disappointment.

“Did you even watch?” Miles asks.

Wiping the drool from the side of my mouth, I sputter for a response. My mouth opens and closes, but I’m unable to form any words. I must look like a fish.

“Hey, bud.” Turning Miles to face him, Alex squats on his haunches, so they are at eye level. “Your mom was tired and looks like she’s not feeling too well. Let’s cut her some slack, okay?”

His calm, supportive tone eases my sinking sense of failure, and it also helps Miles abandon his anger.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” He holds my hand and gently strokes my knuckles.

“Yeah, it’s just a cold, and the medicine is making me tired. I’m sorry, honey, for missing your class.”

“It’s okay. Guess what?” He looks at Alex, who nods encouragingly. “I passed!”

Miles smiles and jumps up and down while I clap my hands, filled with pride at my son’s accomplishment.

“Way to go, little man! I knew you could do it.”

We high-five before I stand, wobbling on my shaky legs, and Alex grasps my hip to steady me.

“Are you okay?” There’s worry in his tone.

“I’m fine. I think I got up too fast, and the heat in here isn’t helping.”

“You should take it easy,” he suggests, releasing his grip.

We stare at each other as everything around us seems to fade away. This is the last time I’ll see Alex, and while I haven’t really given him much thought, not with all I’ve got going on in my life, there is a heaviness in my chest.

“Mom, let’s go!” Miles shouts, already halfway to the changing rooms.

“Alex, Miles has learned a lot from you, and he always looked forward to his lessons. Thanks for being such a great teacher.”

I turn in the direction of my son, not wanting to look back at the sexy swim instructor.

“Hey, Cait.” He says and I peer over my shoulder, expecting his parting response. “What are you guys doing for lunch?”

“Wh-what?”

“I…ah.” He closes the gap between us. “I’ve wanted to ask you out, and it just never felt right with me being Miles’s instructor. But I realized now may be my only chance, and technically, I’m no longer his teacher.”

His lips quirk to the right in a lopsided grin, and he places his hands on his hips while he waits for my response. By now, my son is back at our sides, watching our exchange. I’m not sure how much he caught.

In those brief seconds, I think about how I’d love for him to join us for lunch but hesitate because I wonder what Miles would make of it? Shit, I wonder what I should make of this?

“We’re going for ice cream,” my little man pipes in, breaking our weird but intense connection.

“Ice cream?” Alex lowers his brows and looks at my son. “What kind of lunch is that?”

Great, busted. My little snitch shares another stellar example of why I’m not getting the mother of the year award. Normally, I don’t care what people say, haters gonna hate, but Alex is a sweet guy who’s good with kids. While I doubt he’d openly judge me, he may think twice about having lunch with us.

Instead of making excuses or trying to get out of this, I own it because it’s my son and I’m his mother. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone.

“I promised. We’ve had a rough morning, and now we have a reason to celebrate!” I ruffle my son’s wet hair, and he glares at my affectionate gesture. “But, honey, let’s go somewhere we can get real food and ice cream.”

“Yes!”

“Do you want to join us?” I offer. After all, it’s only lunch.

“I’d love to.” Alex’s response is quick and light, and suddenly, I’ve got my second wind.

It’s a warm, sunny day with a light breeze, and I welcome the fresh air. It’s just what I need to feel more alive.

We meet Alex at the restaurant, and order burgers with fries. Miles tries for only ice cream, but Alex tells him how his body needs nutrients after the workout he had in the pool.

He’s riveted by Alex’s explanation and readily agrees to a burger. And through it all, I smile, grateful for Alex at this moment. Lunch is more of the same with both males talking about swimming and superheroes, and I can’t help but like how well they get along.

Once we’ve finished our meal, Alex suggests the park, and while the meds are wearing off, like my son, I don’t want the day to end.

“Can we, Mom? I want to go to the park.”

Miles jumps around, buzzing with the sugar now coursing through his veins. I brush his curls away from his forehead, and he gives me puppy dog eyes that make me giggle.

“Yes, let’s go.”

We leave our cars in the restaurant parking lot and walk to the nearby park. My little man runs ahead but never out of our sight.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Alex cuts through my thoughts.

“Do what?”

“Juggle being a mom, working, and finding time for yourself.”

“That’s easy. I don’t.” I laugh. “Being a mom comes first, work second, and if there’s time, which there usually isn’t, me.”

“You joke, but I’m serious. For so long, I’ve been all about me. I fulfilled my dream of making it to the Olympics and winning a medal. What about you? You must have dreams.”

“Sure I do, but my biggest and most important dream is that little guy over there.” We both watch Miles climb the monkey bars, and I smile. “While things didn’t work out with his dad, I wouldn’t change a thing. Sure, some days are hard or disastrous, but through it all, we have each other, and that’s all that matters.”

He nods as though he understands, but I’m not sure he does. Although, I get the sense he wants to. We sit in comfortable silence, and I sigh contentedly. I don’t often just sit and enjoy the day and what’s around me.

“Thank you for not making me feel more inadequate than I already did today,” I say sheepishly.

“What are you talking about?”

“His trunks,” I remind him, although I’d rather forget it ever happened.

“Inadequate? You? Never. Don’t worry about it. You’re a great mom. I see how you are with Miles, and the way he talks about you.”

“What do you mean?”

I’m intrigued because it’s rare that I get someone else’s take on what my son thinks of me.

“In case you didn’t know it, your boy thinks you hung the moon and could slay dragons blindfolded.”

“He does not,” I protest, only able to remember the daily misses and epic fails, although my heart swells.

I have a wonderful relationship with my son, but I’m his mom. I doubt I’m a superhero in his eyes. It’s nice to hear it, though.

“He sure does. Cait, you’re not inadequate. And what happened today, let’s face it, shit happens.” He smirks.

On a chuckle, I smile back at him.

“It sure does.”