The Measure of a Man. Marie Ferrarella

table where he proceeded to take a fearless half-gainer on wobbly, chubby legs while gleefully laughing.

      “I was just lucky enough to be there to catch him.” She’d all but sprained her ankle getting there in time to keep him from making ignoble contact with the floor. A smile curved her lips as she remembered another incident. All incidents involving Danny fared far better when they were relived than during the original go-round.

      “And last year, during the holiday season, I was walking through a department store with Danny, holding his hand. Which left his other hand free to grab the branch of one of the trees they had just finished putting up. He got hold of a string of lights and if my mother’s radar hadn’t kicked in, the tree would have gone over, flattening another customer.” She’d swung around just in time to right the tree. The shoe department manager, whose area it had been, hadn’t looked very happy about the matter, despite the smile pasted on his lips.

      Smith tried not to notice the way her smile seemed to light up her face. And curl into his system. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”

      And her life, she thought. “Keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure.”

      He knew she worked full time. Did five-year-olds attend school? He’d never had a reason to know before. He hadn’t one now, he reminded himself. This was just conversation and now that he thought of it, he was having it more or less against his will.

      Still, he heard himself asking, “Who watches Danny when you’re here?”

      Kindergarten would be starting for Danny soon. Another hurdle and rite of passage all rolled into one to go through, she mused. But for now, he was still her little boy and she was hanging on to that for as long as possible.

      “Some very exhausted day-care center people.” The cost of which, she added silently, ate huge chunks out of her weekly paycheck. But it was a good day-care center and Danny seemed to be thriving in the environment, which was all that mattered. She couldn’t ask for anything better than that.

      Except, maybe, a father for the boy. But that wasn’t ever going to happen. For Danny to get a father, she would have to start dating again. Have to put herself out there emotionally again. After the mega-disaster that was her marriage, she had come to the conclusion that she and love had nothing in common.

      Unless, of course, she was thinking of love for her son. Or the professor.

      Smith caught himself studying Jane. Minding his own business to a fault, he knew very little about the lives of the people around him. He’d never pictured Jane with a son. Hadn’t really thought of her as married, either. But that was because she still used the same last name she’d had when they were students in English class together. He’d been aware of her from the first day of class. The cute little redhead with the pale green eyes, soft voice and perfect shape. He’d even come close to asking her out. Back then, he’d thought anything was possible.

      But that was before he learned that it wasn’t. Not for him.

      Smith glanced down at her hand and didn’t see a wedding ring. Was she one of those independent women who didn’t care for outward signs of commitment? Or hadn’t acquiring a husband along with a son been part of her plan?

      “Don’t you miss him?” he asked.

      She wondered if Smith had always been this abrupt or if getting caught and then having to leave the university had done this to him. What was he doing here, anyway? If something that traumatic had happened to her, she certainly wouldn’t have come back, asking for a job. She would have starved first.

      Maybe that was what he was faced with, she suddenly thought. Compassion flooded through her. “Miss him?” She didn’t quite understand what he was driving at. “I see Danny every morning and evening.”

      Smith shook his head. His own mother had stayed home to raise him, returning to the work force only after he entered middle school. “No, I meant, wouldn’t you rather stay home and take care of him?”

      A soft smile flirted with the corners of her mouth. “In a perfect world, yes.” And then she laughed shortly. The world was so far from perfect, it was staggering. “But if I stayed home, the cupboard would get bare incredibly fast.”

      “Your husband doesn’t work?”

      Smith had no idea where that question even came from. For that matter, he didn’t even know why he was talking to her. Ordinarily he didn’t exchange more than a barely audible grunt with people he passed in the hall. Especially the ones he recognized from his initial years as a student. Those he avoided whenever possible.

      Only Professor Harrison was the exception. But that was because the man seemed to insist on taking an interest in him. Long ago, he’d decided that the professor, like his parents, was one of the few good people that were scattered sparingly through the earth.

      He noticed that Jane stiffened when he mentioned the word “husband.” Obviously he must have hit a nerve.

      “I have no idea what my husband does. And he’s my ex, actually.”

      The very thought of Drew brought with it a wealth of silent recriminations. Looking back now, she had no idea why she had been so stupid, not just to put up with his infidelities, which he’d never really made much of an effort to hide, but with his abuse, as well. A self-respecting woman would have never stood for any of that, especially the latter.

      Smith saw her jaw harden. Time to back away. He hadn’t meant to get into any kind of verbal exchange with Jane, much less wander into personal terrain. In general he’d found that the less he interacted with people, the better he liked it.

      He imagined from her tone that she felt the same way, at least in this case. It probably embarrassed her, sharing something so personal with a maintenance man. He doubted very much if she even remembered him. Or would remember him ten minutes from now.

      After all, in his present capacity, he was one of the invisible ones. One of the people that others looked right past, or through, without having their presence actually register on any kind of a conscious level. People, like bus drivers, waitresses, hotel workers and gardeners, who were there to serve and make life a little easier for the people who felt themselves above them.

      Hell, he’d been guilty of that himself once. Filled with high-powered dreams and drive, he’d seen only his own goals, not the people who toiled around him. Working just the way he did now.

      “Sorry,” he apologized, his voice monotoned. “Didn’t mean to sound like I was prying. None of my business, really.”

      Because of all the baggage her marriage had created, not the least of which was Drew’s vanishing act and with it, her alimony and child support payments, Smith had hit a very raw spot. She hated being reminded that she had been such a fool. And that because of her poor choice, Danny wouldn’t be able to have the things that his friends did. Right now, he didn’t notice, but soon, he would. And that was all her fault.

      “No,” she snapped, “it’s not.”

      Embarrassed, afraid that he might say something else, Jane abruptly turned on her heel and hurried down the still-darkened hallway. The sound of her three inch heels clicked against the vinyl until they finally faded out of earshot.

      For a second Smith thought of following her and repeating his apology, but then he shrugged to himself. If he did that, he’d risk getting involved, however peripherally. It was the last thing he wanted or needed. Right now, it was hard enough just getting through the day.

      Whistling under his breath, he got back up the ladder and finally attended to the bulb that he had originally set out to change.

      As Smith began to climb back down, he saw Professor Harrison opening his door very slowly and peering out. Unlike the first time, the door completely cleared the space without coming in contact with the ladder. If Jane hadn’t come out like gangbusters, Smith thought, she wouldn’t have rocked his ladder and there would have been no need for any kind of verbal exchange to have taken place.

      And