An Accidental Mother Read Online Free Page A

direction. It looks eerily real.
    â€œMichael, I think this cat wants to come home with you.” I turn the head further and wave at him with one of the cat’s paws.
    Michael smiles.
    I make a little mewling sound and turn the head again. “I think he’s talking to you.”
    Michael puts the treasure chest back on the shelf and reaches for the cat. He takes it out of my hands and pulls it close. “Can I have him?”
    I nod in reply.
    We go to the checkout, pay for the stuffed animal, and walk outside to meet Jim at the car. We all climb inside and buckle up.
    â€œWhat’d you get?” Jim asks Michael.
    â€œShow him,” Michael says and hands me the cat.
    I take the cat, holding its head and paws, and again turn the cat’s head so that it is now looking toward Jim.“It’s Michael’s new cat,” I say, and then I wave at him with a paw. I’m surprised at how alive the little toy appears to be. I turn the head back toward Michael, and he reaches for it with tiny outstretched hands.
    He holds the cat the entire way home.
    Once back at the house, I get Michael ready for bed, helping him to brush his teeth and put on his pajamas. He climbs into bed holding the cat. “I want to sleep with him,” he says. “Will you make it look real again?”
    â€œSure, honey.” I tuck him in and then reach for the cat, turning the head to the side as though it is peering at Michael; then I bring it closer to kiss him on the cheek. He giggles and grabs the cat, pulling it under the covers with the head sticking out.
    I lean in and kiss his forehead. “How’s your stomach?” I ask.
    â€œIt’s good.”
    â€œI’m glad it’s feeling better. I love you, sweetie.”
    â€œI love you, too.”
    I get up and walk toward the door, reach for the light switch. “Good-night, Michael.”
    â€œGood-night, Kate.”
    â€œGood-night, Cat,” I add.
    Michael is suddenly pulling the cat out from under the covers. And then I see the tiny stuffed cat paw waving at me in reply.

T HE T OOTH F AIRY
    I’m curled up in our bedroom chair reading a book when Jim enters the room. He says Michael has something important to tell me. Michael steps into the room with a grin, holding his hand out in front of him. In the center of his palm is a tiny tooth.
    â€œYou lost your first tooth! How exciting!” I’m out of the chair and walking over to hug him. “We have to call Grandma!”
    â€œAnd Kiki, too!” he says, referring to my sister. “I’m going to put it under my pillow,” he tells me, “and the tooth fairy is going to leave some money.”
    â€œHow much do you think she’ll leave?”
    â€œA quarter … maybe a dollar.” He pauses. “Maybe one hundred dollars!”
    â€œSilly!” I say. “The tooth fairy doesn’t leave
that
much money! Smile for me!”
    He smiles, showing his teeth, and on the bottom row in the very front is a space so small I can hardly tell anything is missing.
    â€œYou look adorable! Let’s go call Grandma!”
    Michael’s not a rough-and-tumble kind of boy, so I’m thrilled that losing his first tooth did not turn out to be traumatic. In fact, I’m surprised he’s so calm about the whole thing.
    As he makes his phone calls, I watch and listen. Although he is only in kindergarten, on the telephone he sounds as though he is completely grown up as he shares his story. Soon after the phone calls he is ready for bed and supervising Jim’s placement of the tooth under his pillow.

    The next morning Michael is already eating breakfast when I make my way to the kitchen.
    â€œDid she come? Did she come
?” I ask.
    He smiles and nods.
    â€œHow much did she leave you?”
    â€œA dollar!”
    â€œA dollar? Oh, my gosh, that is so exciting! A dollar for your first tooth! Did you hear