Page 22 of Mack

“How’s that?”

T.J. nodded. “Good, Mama.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Mack?”

“He went home last night.”

“Oh.” He considered this with a small frown. “He could have stayed with me.”

Mallory kept her expression neutral. “I think you might be a little short on space. He’s a pretty big man.”

T.J. gave it serious thought. “Yep.” He looked up at her. “So, he’d have to sleep with you.”

Mallory stopped in her tracks.

“He wanted to sleep in his own bed,” she said, which was the best she could do on no sleep. She set the bowl of cereal on the table and handed him his spoon.

“‘Kay.” He shoveled a spoonful into his mouth, the matter apparently settled.

Mallory turned back to the counter and tried very hard not to laugh.

“After breakfast we’ll head to Nana and Pap’s.”

T.J.’s face lit up. “I want to ride Marty.”

“We’ll see what the weather does. They’re calling for flurries.”

“I like snow, Mama.”

“I know you do.”

He scooped up another spoonful, thinking. “I want to build a snowman with Mack.”

Mallory kept her voice easy. “When we get enough snow you can ask him.”

T.J. looked up at her with those big brown eyes. “I will.”

She didn’t doubt it for a second.

Building snowmen was something T.J. had only ever done with his pap. The fact that he wanted Mack there too said more than her son understood. She found herself wondering what Mack would say when asked, and then stopped wondering, because she already knew.

He’d say yes without hesitating.

****

The diner was warm and smelled like bacon and fresh coffee. Mack slid onto his usual stool at the counter feeling more human than he had all morning.

“Morning, Mack.” Connie appeared with a coffee pot before he’d even settled. “Usual?”

“Please.”

She filled his cup and moved off, and he wrapped his hands around it and looked out the window at Main Street. The clouds had moved back in, the sky a flat gray that promised something. A few people moved along the sidewalk, collars up against the cold.

He finished his breakfast without rushing, left Connie a good tip, and headed back out into the cold. He pulled his collar up and glanced down the sidewalk.

The lights were on at Festive Finds.

He crossed to the door and stepped inside, the bell chiming overhead. A woman he didn’t recognize looked up from behind the counter. She was older, somewhere in her sixties, with kind eyes and reading glasses pushed up on her head.

“Good morning. Can I help you find something?”