To see the baby.”

“Come by at nine.

I’ll make the coffee strong.”

“I have sixth graders who argue about the Magna Carta for fun.

I need coffee that argues back.” Then Toby started crying through the wall, so I said goodbye and went to him.

He was soaked through and starving and deeply insulted about both, and the changing table was buried under laundry again, so I changed him on the floor.

The nursery catches the sideways light in the morning, through windows I washed in November with vinegar and newspaper because I couldn’t afford to hire anyone and wouldn’t ask for help.