I had gambled that the boys would forgive me more cheaply.

“You’re right,” I said.

“I was wrong, and I won’t ask you to pretend it didn’t matter.” He walked to Lauren without answering.

The next week, I arrived forty minutes early and helped carry the cardboard scenery.

Mason didn’t thank me.

He did allow me to carry his backpack on the way home.

Lauren had watched all of it.

One evening after the boys were asleep she said, “I don’t need you to be perfect.