The CEO said:
“Good.”
He stared.
“Good?”
“Now you have a problem worth solving.”
The Single Dad watched from the porch.
That sentence.
Something happened.
Exactly how his son thought.
He smiled.
At the science program, the CEO attempted to remain anonymous.
Failed within eleven minutes.
One instructor recognized her.
Then another.
Soon the program director appeared.
The CEO raised one hand.
“I’m not here officially.”
The director nodded too eagerly.
“Of course.”
Then immediately treated her officially.
The Single Dad saw irritation cross her face.
He stepped closer.
“Welcome to my world.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Captain said my name.”
“Everyone changed.”
She understood.
Interesting.
She whispered:
“I hate it.”
He smiled.
“Now you understand.”
They spent the morning watching children build small bridges.
The Single Dad’s son argued passionately with another child about weight distribution.
The CEO leaned toward the father.
“He’s good.”
“He’s nine.”
“Both can be true.”
The boy’s bridge held thirty-two pounds before collapsing.
He celebrated the collapse more than the success.
“Now I know where it fails!”
The CEO laughed.
The Single Dad looked at her.
She felt him looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Again?”
He smiled.
The CEO moved slightly closer.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither moved.
After lunch, the son opened a small package the CEO had brought.
Not expensive.
At least not obviously.
A compact electronics kit.
Sensors.
Motors.
Microcontroller.
The boy’s eyes widened.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward his father.
The Single Dad frowned slightly.
The CEO caught it.
She immediately said:
“It is not charity.”
The father raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was thinking.”
“Loudly.”
The CEO looked at the boy.
“I need someone to test it.”
The boy nodded seriously.
“I can do that.”
“Then we have a deal.”
The Single Dad relaxed.
Smart.
She had found a way to give without making the boy feel given-to.
He appreciated that.
Later, when the boy joined another activity, the Single Dad and CEO walked outside.
University lawn.
Warm afternoon.
Students crossing.
The CEO said:
“My mother wants to see both of you again.”
“Both?”
“Apparently your son now exists in family conversations.”
“That was fast.”
“She likes children.”
“Does she?”
“She likes other people’s children.”
The Single Dad laughed.
The CEO continued:
“She wants dinner.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
“Will she interrogate me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then no.”
The CEO smiled.
“I told her you’d say that.”
“What did she say?”