About That Man

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Daisy carefully spooned more batter onto the waffle iron and closed it, then faced Tommy. “Now that you’ve had some time to sleep on everything that happened yesterday, what did you think of your uncle?”

Tommy’s face scrunched up. He shrugged. “He was okay, I guess.”

“You weren’t very nice to him.”

Tommy frowned. “Why should I be? I just said what you were thinking. We talked about it, remember? You don’t know why he abandoned my mom either.”

“Maybe I didn’t understand it before he and I talked, but I do now,” Daisy told the boy. “He deserves a chance to explain it so you’ll understand it, too. He told you yesterday that he tried really, really hard to find her.”

“And you bought that?” Tommy said scathingly.

She nodded slowly. “He sounded sincere. And it is true that your mom didn’t have a lot of the identification papers that most adults have, like a driver’s license and car registration. She always rode a bike.”

“Because she liked the exercise,” Tommy said defensively.

“True, but she didn’t have a Social Security number, either.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Tommy said. “But if she didn’t have it, it was ’cause she didn’t want it.”

Daisy grinned. “I know that, but most grown-ups do have one. Some kids, too, if they want to get jobs. All of those things would have helped your uncle to find her.”

“He should have tried harder. He must be a really lousy cop,” Tommy said stubbornly.

Daisy sighed. She knew better than to push too hard. Even in just a few days, she had seen that Tommy didn’t respond well to pressure. He had a definite mind of his own, and she was a big believer in a child’s right to his own opinions. She could only try to shape them a little at a time. Besides, how much of her faith in Walker’s sincerity was because she wanted to believe he was a good man for her own reasons? If she lost Tommy, she needed to believe he was with someone who could love him the way he deserved to be loved.

Well, the proof would come soon enough. If Walker didn’t show up this morning, it would pretty much confirm Tommy’s low opinion of him. She sighed again and opened the waffle iron just in the nick of time, finally managing one that was golden brown and steaming hot.

She put it on Tommy’s plate, then sat across from him.

“You ain’t gonna have one?” he asked as he slathered butter into every little nook, then poured maple syrup over it.

“Not yet.”

“How come?”

“I thought I’d wait.”

“Wait for what?”

Because she didn’t want to bring up Walker’s name again, she said, “Until I’ve had another cup of coffee. I’m still half-asleep.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him. “Yeah, Mom used to say the same thing, except sometimes I thought it was because she knew we only had enough for one person and she wanted me to have it.”

Daisy felt her eyes sting for this little boy who saw too much, and for the mother who’d tried so hard to give him a better life. Beth Flanagan had worn clothes until they were practically threadbare, but she’d brought Tommy to church every Sunday in slacks that had been neatly pressed and a white shirt and tie. His shoes had been polished and his hair combed. She would have been horrified to see him dressed the way Daisy had found him.

“Your mom was very special,” she told Tommy.

He nodded. “She was the best. I just wish she hadn’t had to work so much. That’s why she got sick, ’cause she was so tired all the time.” His expression turned serious. “Can I ask you something?”