By the time Maxine was two, she was a bright, chatty toddler with opinions about everything and a laugh that filled rooms. She followed Carrie from room to room, asking questions that came too fast to answer. She called Mike “Da,” with complete confidence, like there was no question he would always come when she said it.
Then reality pressed in again. Carrie’s maternity leave had ended long before Maxine learned to talk, and the years since had been a careful juggling act. Mike’s hours couldn’t bend enough to cover everything. Daycare costs were staggering—more than their rent some months, more than Mike brought home. Every option felt like a gamble.