“Thanks for all your help.” Wisps of smoke flew from his lips as he spoke, the cigarette firmly between his fingers. Specks of ash dropped to the hardwood flooring of his porch. Arms crossed over your chest, you only nodded in acknowledgment.

It was only eight — way too early to feel tired. And yet, you both were. Helping John take care of his small son is no tiny feat.

John was having a difficult time adjusting to single parenting. But you were aiding him along the way.