Two hours in the backyard on Sunday afternoon, only if you bring him, and only while Dad is there.”

Noah grunted happily from his high chair, dropping a small crust of whole wheat bread onto his tray.

Ethan bent down, kissed the top of Noah’s soft hair, and picked up his lunch cooler.

“I’m doing inventory count until four,” Ethan said.

“I’ll bring home the extra packing tape for the storage closet.”

“I have three client accounts to balance before noon,” I said.

Ethan reached for his key ring on the entry hook, pausing for a second as his thumb traced the small brass ring before he slipped it into his jacket pocket.