Gently peeling back the bandage on her little guy’s head, Gemma tried to keep the look of horror off her face.

She was pretty sure she’d failed miserably.

“Well, dude, that is gonna leave a wicked scar. How cool will that be?” She tried to keep her voice light and positive. Her inner mommy was screaming and tearing her hair out. Outer mommy was cool and casual.

“I know, it will be like argh,” Dash said, giving her his version of a scary face.

The line with ugly black stitches was shocking to her eyes. Her baby’s skin had been torn open and then sewn back together. She felt like the world’s worst mom. She hadn’t been there; she wasn’t the one to hold him as he cried. She was slogging away slinging hash for tips. Her life was not glamorous.

“Yes, you will be the coolest kid at preschool next year,” she told him. She’d held off sending him to preschool this year, mostly because she didn’t know how long they were going to be there.

Gemma figured moving him midyear would be more disruptive than just waiting another year. He was a smart kid, knew his colors and shapes and was working his way through his ABCs. He was friendly with everyone, so she wasn’t too worried about his socialization, and she wanted a year of modest stability before enrolling him. If she could make a go of it in this tiny town, then it would be a quiet place to raise Dash.

“Woohoo, school!” Dash said excitedly. He wiggled out of her arms and ran to his toy trucks on the floor of the living room.

“Thank you again, for the millionth time,” Gemma said, turning to Jamie. She brought her hand up to Kiki’s head and stroked the baby’s downy soft head.

“I’m here for you, chica. I’m off to make my famous spaghetti,” Jamie said, hiking Kiki up higher in the sling.

“Famous? Don’t you use Prego?”

Jamie wiggled her eyebrows. “Ssh, my man thinks it’s a recipe passed down from my grandma. Don’t ruin the illusion.”

“Uh-huh. See you in the morning,” Gemma said.

“Later!” Jamie threw a peace sign in the air and walked out the door. She lived next door, but her house didn’t have the same disheveled appearance Gemma’s did. Her man had given it a paint job last fall, and Jamie had put some potted plants out front. There was even a bench near the patchy grass by the front door.

In comparison, Jamie’s cottage looked like a mansion compared to Gemma’s. It was clear the landlord didn’t want to repair her tiny hovel, so when a unit came up, which happened frequently, people would skip over the one she was in and would wait for the next. Gemma didn’t have that luxury. When she came into town, she was at the motel for a while until she’d saved up enough money for a deposit.

After meeting her not so nice landlord, she’d managed to talk him down on the rent and the deposit considering the sad state of the unit. The guy clearly wasn’t in the mood to argue with her and gave her a decent discount. He just didn’t want to deal with her, nor she him. A win/win for both sides. She had a roof over her head, and the landlord had a little money in his pocket for a house most people wouldn’t trust storing their Christmas ornaments in.

Gemma had done her best on the inside, and if she ever had a day off, she might even try to plant some flowers like Jamie. Littering the yard were a tricycle, the infamous dump truck that busted his head open, and various other bits and bobs that Dash had dragged outside.

Between the houses was a stack of scrap lumber Evan had found on a job; he was going to build the kids a sandbox. He rocked. In Gemma’s book, he was the perfect husband – he adored his wife, worked hard, and kept what they had in working order. All the things that, in Gemma’s experience, were crucial to a happy life.

Yup, a man around to fix things was important. She’d learned a few things about electricity, plumbing, and general maintenance, but there was something about having a man around to do the heavy lifting.

She didn’t care how that made her sound; she wasn’t meant for the single life. Maybe that was why she jumped on the Kyle train so quickly, throwing her life away for the promise of a man to take care of her. Turns out that she missed a crucial life lesson from her parents: learn to take care of yourself first so you can truly appreciate someone else taking care of you later.

Gemma could see it now. Her life had flipped upside down and the responsibility of her son rested heavily on her shoulders. When you lived alone, paid your own bills, and dealt with your own normal household emergencies, it forced you to grow as a person. Figuring out how to manage your budget, pay bills, and stretch non-existent money…made you get smarter.

And someday, someone might come along and say, “I know you got this, but let me help.” That was Gemma’s idea of a knight in shining armor.

There was just one problem.

That man didn’t exist.

Even if he did, Gemma wasn’t about to let her son’s happiness fall to anyone else. She wasn’t going to let her little man ever feel the loss of a father again. The neglect of a parent who would barely look at you was not something he needed in his life.

It was going to be Dash and Gemma, the dynamic duo. It was the only way Gemma could see a future for both of them.