Miles hopped off his bed, climbed back on, and did it again. Thank god for small luxuries like toddler beds.

“Get your book,” I said. “Where is it?”

“I dunno.” He did a one-eighty turn and shrugged. “Let’s use the telescope.”

I loved it when he said that word. Tele-sh-scope. He hopped onto the bed again. I sighed, folding the last pair of socks I could find a match for and tossing them in the drawer. I picked up six lone socks and shook my head. I’d literally just purchased a new bag of socks for this very reason.

“Te-lesh-scope,” Miles said again, slowly this time.

“There are too many lights in the city, babe. I’ll have to take you upstate so you can see the stars. Maybe we can stay at Nana Joan’s house and set up the telescope there.”

He’d gotten a telescope for Christmas and hadn’t been able to really use it. Leave it to my son to even know what that was, let alone what it was used for. I blamed Freddie for Mile’s obsession with everything NASA. He’d even painted Miles’s room blue before putting stars on the ceiling and rockets on the walls. It looked like an astronaut’s dream. Or nightmare. I wasn’t entirely sure which.

“Nana Joan is coming tomorrow,” Miles said.

“She is.” I smiled up at him. “Are you excited?”

He nodded, wide smile on his face. Miles loved my mom, but Grandma Joan was his favorite. Probably because Mom tried to be authoritative and Grandma Joan let him do whatever his little heart desired. It wasn’t difficult. All he had to do was bat those pretty, incredibly long eyelashes and flash that smile. I couldn’t blame her for it. More often than not, I had to catch myself before I gave in to one of his unnecessary demands.

“Miles? Tess?” Celia called out.

“In Miles’s room,” I called back, but Miles was already rushing out of the room in search of his aunt.

In an effort to live together but still feel like we had our own spaces, we’d found this incredible place in Dumbo. The owners we were renting from had purchased three big apartments on the seventh floor of the building years before Dumbo became a popular place to live. They hoped that their children and their families would one day move into them. When that didn’t happen, they rented the space.

I was on the floor folding the rest of Miles’s clothes when Celia walked in with him in her arms.

“Miles says he wants to use the telescope Eddie bought him.” She stifled a laugh. I bit my lip to hold back my own. Miles used to call Freddie Eddie because he couldn’t pronounce his name properly. He’d moved past it and started saying it correctly, but Celia and I used it to torment Freddie all the time.

“Eddie’s gonna be so happy to hear that,” I said.

Miles sighed, shimmying out of Celia’s hold. “I said Freddie.”

We laughed lightly. I extended my arms and grabbed Miles as he tried to run past me, bringing him to my chest in a tight hug and kissing his chubby cheeks over and over. “I just love you so much.”

He giggled in my arms and broke free to walk back over to the telescope.

“You actually put it together for him?” Celia took a seat across from me and grabbed a shirt to fold.

“No, dude. He did it himself.” I looked over at him. “I know I’m his mom and all, but I swear that kid is a genius.”

“He is. Who else learns to read at two years old?”

“Excuse me.” I threw a shirt at her face, laughing at the look on her face. “I learned to read at two.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Boys are slower than girls.”

I laughed. “You didn’t know how to read at two and you’re a girl.”

“Freddie was super slow.” She stuck her tongue out.

“And Freddie’s a boy.”

She threw the shirt back at my face. I laughed as I caught it.

“You look tired,” she commented.

“I am.”

I was so exhausted from the long week. Between work and Miles’s after daycare activities, I was drained. We’d been working on the bid for the hotel and had some sock designs, but the car was a pain in the ass, mainly because we kept looking at past designs and were trying to come up with a cool, new concept. To add to the stress, the director of acquisitions, Ryan Ford, was on vacation. Who took a vacation the week they started a high-paying job? A man. That was who.

“Why don’t you go shower and change, and I’ll finish folding and putting away his clothes and tuck him in tonight?”

My shoulders slumped in relief, letting out some of the stress they’d been holding. I tilted my neck back and forth, hoping to alleviate the pain there.

“You’d be a total lifesaver. I’ll tuck him in, though.” I smiled. Tucking him in was my favorite part of the job.

Once I was showered, I felt refreshed. I picked up some scattered toys on my way over to Miles’s room and stood at the doorway just as Celia was finishing The Giving Tree. It was impossible for me to read that book and not get choked up, and apparently, she felt the same way. Walking over to them, I shut off his lights and turned on the nightlight by his bed, as Celia closed the book, gave him a kiss, and stood. I crouched and gave him another.

“Did you use the restroom?”

He nodded.

“I mean in the last ten minutes, have you used it?”

“No.”

“Miles! Please do that now.” I uncovered him and watched him walk to the bathroom across the hall. I’d do anything for my child, but if I could avoid washing the sheets again, that would be awesome. Once he was back in bed, I pulled his covers up around him, gave him another kiss, and said good night.

Celia and I walked out in silence, waiting until we were in the kitchen to speak.

“Are we going out on Saturday?” she asked.

“I told Sam we would, but ugh.”

“Ugh, nothing. You haven’t gone anywhere since we moved here, and I specifically remember you blaming your lack of a love life on not having someone to watch Miles. Lo and behold, you now have Freddie and me plus Grandma Joan and Mom who are coming tomorrow, so no excuses.”

I grabbed us each a glass of wine. “I never said anything about my lack of a love life. That was you. Even if I did want a love life, I don’t plan on meeting anyone at this bar slash restaurant slash lounge or whatever it is. I’m going because Sam had a hand in designing it. That’s it. Maybe you should worry about your own non-existent love life.”

“That’s different,” she said before taking a sip of wine. “I’ve decided to take a year of celibacy. I think everyone can appreciate that cleanse. You’ve had almost four years. You’re overdue.”

“It hasn’t been four, stop being dramatic.”

“I’m not saying you haven’t been busy, but now you have this awesome, lucrative position with an equally awesome office, and this great kid and . . . I don’t know. Don’t you feel like it’s time?”

I took a sip of my wine and then set the glass on the counter, running my finger along the rim. “I hooked up with that French guy, remember?”

“Oh my god. Stop. We said we wouldn’t count that.” She laughed. I felt myself smile. It had been a mess. “What about Cody? Have you spoken to him?”

“Cody and I are friends. Nothing more, and no I haven’t spoken to him. He knows we’re here, but I’d rather keep things as platonic as possible.”

“Because you don’t want to lead him on.”

“Exactly.”

“That guy would trip over his feet if you gave him a shot.”

“I like him standing. Thanks.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fine.” I huffed. “It isn’t that he isn’t a great catch. He has it all. I just don’t see him in that way.” It was like Sam all over again.

“You definitely have a type,” she said. “Cody doesn’t have the build to qualify.”

I laughed. “By type, I don’t mean body type.”

“He isn’t alpha enough for you.”

I scrunched my nose. He wasn’t. “But he is cute. He’s more your type.”

“God no. He’s too much of a goody-two-shoes.”

I laughed. “Speaking of bad boys, have you spoken to Ben again after he called a few weeks ago?”

“He called again the other day. I didn’t answer.”

“Why not?” I couldn’t understand her. Every time she had a little bit of wine in her she’d talk about Ben with regret in her voice. He was a super successful soccer player. Super hot. Super rich. Super . . . male. He was totally up her alley, with his tattoos and his sexy smirk.

“All those things you just listed.” She raised an eyebrow. “They seem like pros until you’re in a relationship with the guy. Then all of those things that attracted you in the first place become all of the things that make you self-conscious.”

“Because of the girls?”

“I think that’s a big part of it. The whole larger-than-life existence those people have . . .” She shook her head. “Imagine these baseball players and American football players? Multiply that by a million. Their football is in a league of its own. They get hit on by women from every single country, every single town, every single . . . it’s too much. I can’t handle it.”

“It’s been great for your poetry, though.”

“Hell yeah.” She laughed and then sobered. “So, have you thought about telling Rowan?”

“No.” My chest squeezed. “I mean, yes, I’ve thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, but I can’t. It would be a horrible idea.”

“I get it. I mean, I can see the pros and cons, but I get it.”

“I can’t hide him forever,” I said. “I don’t want to hide him forever, I just can’t think of the right time to tell him. What would I do? Show up at his doorstep?”

Celia shrugged as if she didn’t know what to say. We fell into a comfortable silence, finished off our wine, and washed the glasses before saying good night.

On my way to bed, I peeked into Miles’s room one last time, watching the way his little chest rose and fell. A part of me was dying to tell Rowan because I felt guilty. I knew it was wrong for me to keep something this big to myself, but then I remembered Camry and Mildred and I stopped myself every time.

Telling Rowan would mean those women would be in my son’s life, and that was something I couldn’t tolerate. There was no way I would let them poison the sweetness Miles had.

Did it make me selfish? Yes. Did it make me wrong? Probably. Did I give a shit? No. This was my son’s wellbeing, and it was something I didn’t have to debate with anyone.