Chapter One

"Baby, what are you wearing?" I'm looking at my son. He's wearing a khaki button-down shirt, pens in the breast pocket, long khaki shorts, a sun hat, long beige socks, and his dark brown hiking boots. He's clutching a clipboard to his chest as he peeks at me through his glasses.

"I'm ready in case I find animals to document. The Pacific Northwest has completely different species than in Illinois."

I sigh as I shuffle through the piles of boxes in the kitchen trying to find the paperwork I need. "Max honey, we're not going anywhere where you'll see animals. We're going to Mommy's new work, then to the grocery store. I don't think you need to be dressed up for a safari, okay?"

Silence. I stop what I'm doing at peer at him. He's getting agitated. "I need to be ready in case I see an animal."

I don't want us to have a bad day. The move has been hard enough on Max so I decide I'm going to indulge him. "Alright baby, that's fine."

Once we're in the car, the first thing Max does is plug himself into his iPod. I smile fondly. I just downloaded the Journal of Zoology podcasts on it and Max can't get enough. I'm sure he's listened to them all a few times but that repetition is something I'm used to. He can't ride in the car without his iPod. He hates noise so usually in the store he'll plug it in too. I call his name to see if he can hear me through his earphones, and after a few seconds of no response I pull out my phone and call his father.

It picks up after the third ring. "William's phone?"

I close my eyes briefly. "Hi Carol. I need to talk to Will." I know she knows it's me and I also know she hates that I call her Carol. But I don't care.

"I don't know what you could possibly need him for now," she huffs. "You're already sucking my son dry of his income and I personally think it's ridiculous that you call him like you're entitled to something more."

I grit my teeth. "I appreciate your opinion, but the law thinks differently, and since we've had a child together I am entitled to funding to support my son."

"Well, if you had just done what we wanted with the boy in the first place this wouldn't be-,"

Before I say something I'm going to regret I interrupt her. "Can I talk to Will now?" I know that haughty tone and I know where she was taking the conversation.

I hear her huff again. "Well I never…" I hear her call out to Will.

"What's up?"

I steel myself for a fight. "Will, it's halfway through the month. I haven't gotten your alimony or child support payments yet and-,"

"Seriously Andy? I told you last week that things are kind of tight at work right now. Listen, I'll pay you double next month. How's that work?"

I know that's a lie. Will's a litigation consultant and whether or not he's successful doesn't matter because his mother funds anything and everything he wants. I do know that he likes to try his luck at Texas Hold 'Em, which is probably where my payments have gone. "That's a load of crap Will! I'm not sitting here waiting for my shopping allowance. This is your son. You know I use that money for his therapist and you know that he needs consistency, so when I can't pay for therapy and he stops going he regresses. This is absurd."

His tone is full of exasperation. "Listen. Tell the kid to toughen up. That's how the Brady family does it so since he's my son that's how he can do it."

"You know what Will? I'm not doing this with you. Either I get a check from you in the next week or I'm calling my lawyer and we can deal with it that way," I threaten. I hang up before he responds. Once I've stopped at a red light I bury my head in my hands. Everything with Will regarding Max is a constant battle. The only thing that we were able to agree on is that I could move with Max out of the state of Illinois, where we used to live. He was only too happy to not have to spend every other Saturday awkwardly trying to golf with Max. He never wanted anything to do with it. Sports of any kind are not something he has an interest in, and if Max doesn't want to do something then he doesn't do it. Usually Will would bring him back home in the middle of a tantrum and I've have to take him to his Quiet Room to get him to stop screaming.

I've gotten used to the idea of Will out of Max's life. I wish he had a father who cared more but I know we can do this, just the two of us. That's part of why I moved to Forks, actually. I decided it would be better if Will was completely out of Max's life. The forced interaction was only making Max unstable. That, and I finally found a commercial building I could afford to buy and use as my boutique. It's been a dream of mine since the first day of college when I decided to be a business major. It got put on the back burner once I found out I was pregnant, but I made sure I constantly took out money from my paychecks to save for the right place. I was able to get a business loan and my dream suddenly became a reality for me. Max doesn't like change, so the move has been a little rough for him. But I know that once we've both settled this will be a good change for him.

We arrive at the strip mall where my new space is. It's a good month from opening. Right now renovations are finishing up and painters are here changing the wall color from the faded eggshell color to a teal that I chose. I go to the back door and open it for Max. His headphones are out and he's peering at me with his inquisitive stare. The words out of his mouth cause my stomach to drop: "Dad doesn't like me."

He doesn't say this with any emotion. Rather, it is an observation he has made. I instantly know he heard my phone conversation. Tricky little rascal. I reply as neutrally as I can. "Of course he likes you honey. He…he just doesn't understand people who are different. Do you understand that?"

His head tilts to the side. "I'm different than other people."

I want to give him some sort of comforting touch, but he isn't one to be comfortable with close contact. I smooth my hair down instead. "You are. But what do I always say?"

"Differences are what make us interesting," he intones. He seems to be done with our conversation. "I want to get a microscope for my birthday."

I laugh while I help him out of the car. "Well I think you've got awhile till then, baby. You just had your ninth birthday last month, so maybe you can get a microscope for Christmas?"

He shrugs and looks uneasily towards the store. I can hear a power drill buzzing and I know he doesn't like it. "Listen to your iPod Max. Just stay in the store and I promise we'll be out of here soon."

As soon as we walk in my assistant manager Sara is at my side. I hired her to oversee renovations while I got moved here. She's young, a little high-strung, but she knows how to manage and she has been a lifesaver.

"We have a slight…hiccup with renovations," she begins nervously.

"Of course we do," I sigh. "What is it now?"

She talks so quickly it's hard for me to keep up. "Well, the electrician came to install our light fixtures but something or other about the wiring is screwed up so he's going to have to tear into the sealing to rewire it so we can have the chandeliers up and…it's going to double his rate."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Okay. I'll go over the books again but we should be able to make up for that somehow. Do we have clothing racks yet?"

She shakes her head. "The delivery truck has apparently got a flat so they said they're not going to get here until tomorrow."

I gaze around at the space. I love it; it's got gorgeous exposed brick and I love the vision that I have for it. Right now, it's a little hard to see the beauty with the wall half painted and a gaping hole in the ceiling. Tarp covers the polished concrete floor and dust from the electrician tearing into the plywood above left a powdery white coating everywhere. "Well it's probably for the best they aren't here yet," I reply. "We don't exactly have everything ready to set them up. I have the paperwork for the inspector to see once he gets here next week. I need you to fax him a copy and then keep it in the file cabinet in the storage room until we're ready to have him here, okay?" I hand her the stack of papers I brought and head over to the painter to check with the status.

An hour or so later I've done what I need to do in the store for now. Max is perched on a stepstool, staring at the wall with his iPod in. I hold out my hand and we head to the car. On the way to the grocery store I look back at Max. At a light I tap him on his leg so he takes his earphones out.

"I was thinking Max…maybe we could invite those boys who live down the street over for dinner sometime soon?" I worry about Max having friends constantly. Socializing was always a struggle for him in Illinois and I want him to start off on the right foot here.

He makes a face. "I don't like them."

"Why?"

"They wear socks and sandals." One of his quirky pet-peeves. He won't get past that with them.

I exhale, trying not to get exasperated. "Honey, remember what Amy said before we left?" Amy was his therapist back home.

His voice is flat. "That I need to have an open mind when I move here."

I nod. "Exactly. So let's make a deal. Let's try to meet someone that you might be able to imagine yourself spending time with. Invite them over to dinner, that's it. I'll make whatever you want to eat and then we'll both be happy. How's that sound?"

He shrugs and vaguely answers, "I guess." And then the iPod is back in. He's done with this conversation. My mind is spinning. I worry about Max and I worry about work. There is so much to do just to get my store ready. On top of that, I have to unpack and I have to find Max a behavioral therapist. And a babysitter who can watch him when I have to work. I don't want to drag him to the store all the time once it's open. I'm a little bit overwhelmed but when I glance at Max in the side mirrorI can't help but smile. It's worth it to be a good mom to him. I want to be able to provide for him and to be there to understand him when it seems like no one else does. We're going to get this all figured out.