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As Paige walks me to Hayden's door, mountains of leftover food rest between my arms

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As Paige walks me to Hayden's door, mountains of leftover food rest between my arms.

"So rice water in the hair. I'll try that," Paige says.

I nod, balancing the three containers so I can reach the doorknob. "Yes, you should. It works wonders," I reply, pulling open the door. "But no longer than twenty minutes, or you'll irritate the hair."

"Noted." Paige smiles, holding the entrance as I step into the hallway.

For the last hour, she and I traded hair care secrets, then she showed me pictures of her house setup so I could advise on what to change, and then she gave me all sorts of cooking tips.

And, more than anything else, she spewed loads of praise about Hayden.

I now know he won his middle school spelling bee, that he always helped Paige put away the groceries, and that he always gives her exactly what she asks for on her birthdays. This year, it was expensive perfume and fuzzy slippers.

It's not entirely useful information to have, but it sure is fun to listen to what she considers impressive. Hayden was amused, too. He didn't participate much in Paige and I's conversation, but boy did he listen, grinning through it all as he scooped mouthfuls of macaroni.

Now, he stands beside his mom, holding Rosie (and her dumb bow) in his arms. "I'll see you tonight," he says, chucking as his hazel eyes meet mine. He jolts Rosie my way. "And Rosie will, too."

I roll my eyes but nod. "Yeah. I'll see you later." I dart my gaze to Paige. "And happy birthday. You have my number if you need help with anything I told you about."

After a few more nods and reassurances that we'll talk soon, the goodbyes end, leaving me in the hallway.

Now alone, I sigh, relaxing my shoulders as I step toward my door. That lunch went...not terribly. We made progress with Rosie, and Hayden's mom is absolutely lovely. She's chatty and determined, but both are qualities I respect.

But the most important part of the day is we made leeway with Rosie, so as tired as I am from talking all afternoon, a small smile creeps onto my lips.

Progress. It's the best feeling in the world.

Using the hand not holding the food containers, I reach into my pocket. After surfacing my key, I twist it into the knob and swing open my door. Bart stands right on the other side, wagging. His nails clack against the floor as he marches in place. Streams of sunlight pour from my window, illuminating him and the rest of my ventilated space.

"Hi, buddy." I close the door. "How are you?"

Bart wags his tail in little circles, and his bright eyes beam into me. Grinning back at him, I kneel and set down my leftovers, but the second I'm on my knees, and within a few inches of him, he winces. He moves away from me, something he rarely does.

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