Proud things.
Instead, he cleared his throat.
“Thanks for fixing what I didn’t.”
Jack studied him.
Then nodded once.
“You can fix the next thing.”
Marcus looked surprised.
Jack stepped in, wiping snow from his boots.
“Back fence is leaning. Martha said it’s been bothering her.”
Martha raised an eyebrow.
“I said no such thing.”
Jack looked at her.
“It bothers me on your behalf.”
Despite herself, Martha laughed.
Marcus did too.
Small.
Rusty.
But real.
That Saturday, Marcus came back.
Alone.
He brought work gloves and a toolbox.
Martha watched from the kitchen window as he and Jack worked on the back fence in the cold morning sun.
They did not become friends that day.
That would be too easy.
They measured boards.
Held posts.
Argued mildly about screws.
Ray showed up halfway through with coffee and unnecessary opinions.
Marcus did not smile much, but he stayed.
At noon, Martha brought sandwiches outside.
Jack took his with a grin.
Ray took two.
Marcus took one and said, “Thank you, Mama.”
Not “thanks.”
Not a mumble.
Thank you, Mama.
Martha carried those words around all day like a warm stone in her pocket.
Tiffany did not come.
For two weeks, Marcus visited every Saturday.
Sometimes he worked.
Sometimes he sorted old boxes with Martha.
Once, he sat at the kitchen table with his bills while Martha folded laundry beside him, neither of them saying much.
That quiet felt awkward at first.
Then it felt almost normal.
He and Tiffany were still strained. Martha knew better than to ask too many questions. But Marcus had begun saying “I” instead of “we” when talking about choices, and Martha noticed.
One evening, Anna came by with Lily.
The baby was bigger now, round and curious, reaching for everything she should not touch.
Marcus happened to be there, fixing a drawer track.
He froze when Anna walked in.
So did Anna.
Martha looked between them.
“Anna, this is my son, Marcus. Marcus, this is Anna. And this little sunshine is Lily.”
Anna smiled gently.
“It’s good to meet you.”
Marcus wiped his hands on a rag.
“You too.”
Lily stared at him with serious baby judgment.
Marcus stared back.
“She always look at people like that?” he asked.
Anna laughed.
“Only when she’s deciding if they’re worth her time.”
Martha lifted Lily from Anna’s arms.
“She decided I was worth it.”
Marcus’s face softened as he watched his mother with the baby.
Not jealous this time.
Sad, maybe.
And glad.
Both could live in the same room.
Lily reached for the screwdriver in Marcus’s hand.
He quickly moved it away and held out the rag instead.
She took it proudly.
“Smart,” Anna said.
Marcus shrugged.
“I remember babies grabbing everything.”
The room went quiet for half a breath.
Martha knew which baby he meant.
So did Marcus.
He did not run from the memory this time.
He looked at Lily, then at his mother.
“She would have been a good grandma,” he said softly.
Martha’s eyes filled.
Anna touched Lily’s back.
“She is a good grandma.”
Marcus looked down.
Martha pressed a kiss to Lily’s hair.
That winter loosened slowly.
Snow melted from the gutters.
The road turned muddy.
