The front door swung open with the familiar jangle of keys.

  “Hey honey—I’m home!”

  Wendy’s voice floated in from the kitchen, equal parts teasing and deadly serious. “If you don’t have Thomas with you, you can turn right back around and go get him!”

  Eric stepped inside with theatrical flair, sweeping an arm toward the hallway like a game-show host. “Not a problem, my lady. I have brought the mysterious young man himself.”

  Thomas followed, half-laughing, half-defensive. “Wait—what did I do?”

  Wendy appeared in the doorway, apron still on, eyes shining. “You know exactly what you did. Now get over here and let me thank you properly.”

  Thomas glanced at Eric for rescue. Eric just smirked and mouthed, Do it or we both die.

  Thomas crossed the room and let Wendy pull him into a hug that smelled like vanilla, dish soap, and home. She held on a second longer than politeness required.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Thomas said into her shoulder, voice muffled. “Glad this time nobody’s stuck in a ditch.”

  “That makes two of us.” She pulled back, hands still on his arms, looking him over like a mom who’d just found her kid after the apocalypse. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  Eric sniffed the air dramatically. “Then let’s move before I start eating the doorframe.”

  They migrated toward the kitchen—and stopped dead at the sound of an unhappy wail.

  Eric winced. “Uh-oh. Rough afternoon?”

  Wendy rubbed her temple. “Last two hours. Missed his nap, and now the whole world is ending.”

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  Thomas didn’t ask. He just stepped forward. “Mind if I try?”

  Wendy’s tired smile said everything. “Be my guest.”

  Thirty seconds later the baby was curled against Thomas’s shoulder, tiny fist tangled in his shirt, cries fading into soft baby snores.

  Wendy stared, hands on hips. “You really can’t help yourself, can you? Here comes Thomas, saving the day again.”

  Eric chuckled. “It’s becoming a pattern.”

  “Crib?” Thomas whispered.

  They tiptoed down the hall like conspirators, laid the sleeping tyrant down, and eased the door shut with the reverence usually reserved for defusing bombs.

  Back in the kitchen, Wendy was already setting a third place at the table.

  “So,” she said, sliding a basket of rolls toward him, “word on the street is you’ve caught the eye of not one, but two very nice young ladies.”

  Thomas’s face went scarlet. “I—I wouldn’t say that. They were just… helping me with the dinner stuff. Shoshana’s really smart. Easy to talk to. Veronica’s cool too. I don’t even know if I’ll see them again.”

  Wendy and Eric exchanged a look that lasted half a second and said everything.

  “Pretty sure Veronica goes to your school,” Wendy said innocently.

  Thomas blinked. “She didn’t mention that.”

  “She was busy making sure the spotlight stayed on you and Shoshana,” Eric added, failing to hide his grin. “But something tells me she’ll find you Monday morning.”

  The rest of dinner passed in easy laughter—school stories, Eric’s early lodge disasters, Wendy’s gentle teasing. By the time brownies appeared, Thomas wasn’t sitting like a guest anymore. He was slouched back in his chair, feet under the table like he’d always belonged there.

  Later, after Eric dropped Thomas off, he walked back into a quiet house. Wendy was waiting by the phone.

  “It’s the Worshipful,” she said, handing over the receiver. “He wants a word.”

  Eric took it. “Yes, Worshipful?”

  “Good call today, brother. We just got off the phone with John Talesky—the guardian. Man’s a character. Still has no idea the kid who got his heirloom out of pawn was our Thomas.”

  Eric’s grin returned full force. “Plan?”

  “We get Thomas to that award ceremony, come hell or high water. Oh—and we finally traced the very first token José gave him.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Brother Blue. Lost it during a move two years ago. Didn’t even realize it was gone until we told him where it ended up. He laughed for a solid minute, then got quiet. Said, ‘That explains why the kid stayed with me the whole time the house was flooding.’”

  Eric felt the weight of it settle warm in his chest.

  “Not a single brother meant to give Thomas his first shekel,” the Worshipful continued, voice soft. “But it still found the right hands. You’re the one who saw what everyone else missed. Meeting next week to finalize everything—hope to see you there.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Eric hung up, looked at Wendy, and shook his head in quiet wonder.

  “Our boy’s been earning his place longer than any of us knew.”