I looked up.
An older woman stood there, probably in her late 60s. Her gray hair was pulled into a neat bun. She wore a floral blouse and had the warmest eyes I’d ever seen.
“Yeah,” I said with a tired smile. “Double trouble.”
She laughed softly. “Where’s Mom today? Or is it Daddy’s special day with the little ones?”
My throat tightened. I usually avoided that question. But something about her expression made me answer honestly.
“There’s no mom in the picture. It’s just me and them.”
Her face softened. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
I shrugged. “Thanks. Some days are harder than others. But we are managing as best as we can.”
She nodded slowly, as if she understood more than she said. She lightly touched the stroller. “You’re doing a good job. Don’t forget that.”
I thanked her. As she drifted down the aisle, she called out, “And you should have a look at this Samsung machine here on the corner. I think you’ll like it.”
