I finish my design work early today. It’s nothing more than making silly advertisements for online blogs and things like that. It’s not what I want to do be doing forever, but hey, it’s a job, right?

I’ve got to not only feed myself, but James too.

James is everything to me, and I’d do whatever I had to do to protect him, to feed him, to clothe him.

And right now, the best way I can do that involves working as a graphic designer.

It may be boring, but in truth, I’m lucky to have the job.

Sunny, the boss, comes prowling around the cubicles around 4pm every day, ostensibly to ask us how we’re all doing. But we all really know that he’s just putting check marks next to his productivity sheets. He’s got tasks laid out for himself every day. He learned this all at some productivity conference that he apparently paid ten thousand dollars for. The only thing it’s done is make him more annoying.

“How’s it going, Hana Bo Bana?”

“That’s not my name, Sunny,” I say. “How would you like it if I called you Sunny Go Runny?”

There’s a snicker from one of my co-workers in the nearby cubicle.

Sunny turns red in the face, but he ignores it.

He puts on his serious boss man face.

“All right,” he says. “Joking’s over. Let’s get down to work. You look like you’re slacking off, Hana. I look at your computer and all I see is your personal email account. Where are the advertisements that you were supposed to do today?”

“First of all,” I say. “You’re the one who started this ‘joking,’ not me. And second of all, I finished the advertisements an hour ago. But you won’t let me leave even though I’ve finished my work. That doesn’t seem very efficient, does it?”

There’s the sound of a mild one-two clap from somewhere nearby. But it dies out as quickly as it starts.

Sunny goes red in the face again. He doesn’t like being talked back to. But I’m a good graphic designer, and I don’t take being disrespected. I’m going to stick up for myself, and I’m not afraid of losing my job like everyone else here. As far as I’m concerned, they’re a bunch of sycophants and scaredy cats.

I can tell everyone nearby is listening, but their heads are hidden by the cubicle dividers.

“You should have asked for more work,” says Sunny. “You should have come to me and told me you’d finished your work.”

“You told me never to disturb you,” I say. “You even have a huge sign in front of your office that says not to disturb you unless it’s a natural disaster.”

“Well,” sputters Sunny.

But he doesn’t have anything to say.

“I’m going to be taking the rest of the day off,” I say. “Because I finished my work and I did a great job on it.”

Sunny doesn’t say anything.

“OK, Sunny? Is that OK with you?” I speak to him in a condescending way, as if he’s a child.

Sunny nods and his face is red with anger.

I turn off my computer, grab my purse, and walk past Sunny towards the elevator.

“You go girl!” shouts someone from one of the cubicles. It’s probably Sandra, who seems to look up to me even though she’s older than I am.

Sunny doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can say.

My plan for the afternoon was to go pick up James from daycare and head straight home to cook him dinner. But now I have an extra hour to kill.

Someone almost runs into me as I walk out the door.

“Excuse me,” I say.

I look up, and suddenly see that it’s not just anyone. It’s Noah.

“Noah!” I say, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” says Noah, without a trace of embarrassment on his face.

I laugh. “Nice,” I say. “I’m glad you didn’t invent some excuse, like you were just in the neighborhood or something.”

“Does this happen to you often?”

I shake my head.

In truth, I haven’t been with a guy since Noah. I know, I know, that’s pathetic, right?

But what was I supposed to do?

I had to finish college. I had to get a job and support James.

My parents are wonderful, but I wasn’t going to let them raise him. I’m his mother, after all. I had more priorities than just going out and getting laid.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” says Noah.

I look at my watch. I do have an extra hour before I can pick James up from nursery school.

“Sure,” I say. “Any ideas? There’s a coffee shop right down the corner.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” says Noah. “It’s more private.”

“Sure,” I say. “There’s a park up in that direction.”

“I know,” says Noah. “I’m from here, remember?”

I laugh. “Of course.”

For some reason, today I feel at ease around him. I don’t feel anxious like I did the other day. Maybe it’s because I’m coming off a bit of a high from telling off Sunny like that and putting him in his place.

Noah doesn’t seem nervous. I don’t think he gets nervous, after all. But he does seem preoccupied with something.

“What’s on your mind?” I say. “You seem… I don’t know. Something.”

“Something?”

“You seem different.”

“Well,” says Noah. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, you know. I’ve been away for a long time, and I know I’ve changed. Some people say they feel the same after going through an extreme experience. I don’t, though. I know I’ve changed. But everyone else seems different too.”

“Sounds deep,” I say.

To my surprise, Noah laughs. “I guess I take myself too seriously sometimes,” he says.

“You are different than I remember you,” I say. “But you’re the same too. I can still see it in you. You’re the same person. You may have had different experiences than you had before, but you’re the same Noah Strong in many ways.”

“Pretty deep conversation for seeing each other again after so many years, right?” says Noah.

“I guess so,” I say.

We walk in silence for a couple minutes, each of us apparently lost deep in our thoughts.

The sun is shining in the sky and the trees look beautiful. I remember the summer when I slept with Noah, the summer in which James was conceived. It was a hot summer, with the heat rolling in from somewhere all the time. It really felt like that, as if the heat didn’t originate here, but somewhere else, far away. It felt as if the heat had traveled miles to get here, the way Noah has traveled miles to get here today.

This summer has the same feeling as that other summer years ago. Not all summers are the same. People think it’s just hot weather, more sun, more beach days. But each new season brings a new feeling of its own. And there’s some connection between not just the heat, but something deeper, something more ethereal… I’m losing myself, getting lost in my own spiraling thoughts.

“The trees are pretty,” I say, breaking my own swirling thoughts that seem to go nowhere.

“Yeah,” says Noah. “I went a long time without seeing trees like these. I missed them all the time.”

“I bet,” I say. “So I should admit something, Noah. I’ve been watching you on TV. I went to the bookstore because I knew you’d be there.”

Noah chuckles.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“I’ve thought about you a lot,” he says. “I’ve thought about you constantly, actually. I don’t know why. Well, that’s not true. There’s just something about you… I know what it is, but I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You’re saying you were thinking about me when you were over there, when you were abroad?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was just another… you know, lay, for you. You were pretty popular with the ladies, to put it lightly.”

Noah grimaces.

“I’m not proud of that,” he says. “But it is what it is. But no, you were different. You always were. From the moment I saw you.”

This is getting pretty intense, pretty fast. I didn’t expect a simple walk to turn out like this.

Honestly, I was thinking that I was just crazy for thinking he’d even really remember me at all. Or think anything of me.

But now he’s here, confessing his feelings for me, telling me that I’m special, that he was thinking about me over the last few years.

It’s too good to be true, right?

He’s James’s father. The thought hits me like a slap in the face. Not only that, but I’ve never told him.

What am I doing? I should tell him right now. I need to tell him. It’s just not fair, to anyone, to keep this kind of thing from him.

I can justify my decision however I want to myself. But the fact is that I know what I’m doing quite clearly. Noah’s suddenly expressed what sounds like a serious interest in me, and I don’t want to ruin my chances with him by telling him this huge news that I’ve been hiding from him for so long.

But I’ve got to tell him. I’ve got to tell him. And not just because it’s the right thing to do. If Tammy tells him first as some kind of retribution, or an attempt to get him back, there go my chances with him.