“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t get to stroll into his life because you need cash.”

He looked down at the floor, then over at the covered stroller once more.

“Does he have a name?”

“Walter,” I said.

“For his grandfather.”

Spencer made a low sound deep in his chest.

He reached his hand out toward the blanket, and I let him touch the edge of it and nothing else.