"You have my cell phone number. The number for the police is on the fridge, and Sheryl’s number and the number for Trattoria Bella is on the counter. And, uh, 911 I think you know already."

"Okay. Got it," Jim nods.

"Listen, I really appreciate this, Jim. I know it’s Saturday night and all, but, um, it was short notice and I couldn’t get anyone else, so..."

"Don’t...don’t mention it, man," Jim insists. "Anytime." He knows dates are few and far between for Toby.

"Well, I guess I’m going to go now. Sasha’s in her room playing Dora the Explorer on GameCube. She didn’t take a nap today so she should be ready for bed in an hour or so. She had a bath earlier and she already ate dinner so all she needs to do is brush her teeth." Toby looks at Jim dolefully and shrugs. "Nothing’s changed much."

Jim doesn’t know why those words bite into him they way they do, but somehow he knows Toby’s not just talking about Sasha’s bedtime routine.

"Jim!"

The little girl comes bounding down the hallway in her nightgown. Laughing, she wraps her arms around Jim’s legs and squeezes, pressing her face into his shin. He scoops her up and she hugs him.

"Hey, Sasha!" He can’t keep himself from smiling like a huge dork but Sasha does it to him every time. He hasn’t babysat her in almost a year. "Wow," he says. "Pretty soon you’re going to be as tall as me."

"No!" She shrieks, shaking her head, her blonde hair whipping Jim’s face.

He sets her back down and she says goodbye to Toby as he leaves, and then she turns back to Jim.

"Do you want to come play Dora with me?"

"Sure." He lets Sasha take his hand as she leads him back to her bedroom.

Her room looks the same as the last time he was there, walls painted a pale lavender with fluffy white curtains on the windows. Disney princesses and Barbie dolls are everywhere. Jim pauses in front of a collection of watercolor paintings, obviously done by Sasha. The colors are bright and vibrant, yellow, orange, green, purple and red. He kneels down to get a better look.

"Sasha, these are really nice," he says. She stands next to him.

"Thanks. These ones are fireworks," she points. "And these are flowers. Pam did them with me."

"Pam?" He turns and looks at Sasha but she’s already plopped down on the floor in front of her video game. "Does Pam come over here?"

"She did once," Sasha says, staring intently at the TV screen. "She watched me when Daddy had to go somewhere." She looked back at Jim with huge blue eyes. "Will you paint with me later?"

"We’ll see," Jim replies as he settles next to Sasha on the floor. "But for right now, I want to watch you play Dora because I have never been able to beat this game, and the word is that you’re the best in town at it."

* * * *

It’s eight-thirty and Sasha is still nowhere near tired enough to go to bed. Jim lets her pick out a DVD from the array of movies in Toby’s entertainment system. After twenty minutes she finally decides on Barbie, The Princess and The Pauper.

Jim finds himself getting more into the movie than he probably should. Sasha’s head is in his lap and he thinks she may be falling asleep, but then she shifts, her little hand holding on to his knee.

"Jim," she says, watching the screen as the king in the movie appears. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He hesitates before answering. "Yup."

"Do you love her?"

"Mmm, not exactly." He’s not sure whether or not to elaborate his relationship status to a five-year-old and he decides not to.

"Yeah." Sasha sighs. "My daddy has a new girlfriend. I don’t think he loves her either."

"Well," Jim answers gently, "I know for a fact that your dad loves you more than anybody."

"I know. He tells me every day."

* * * *

Jim tucks Sasha into bed and flops back on the couch in the dark living room. The menu to the Barbie movie is replaying, over and over again, and it’s too much pink for him to stand but he doesn’t feel like turning it off.

His eyes are heavy and he shouldn’t be this tired at nine o’clock on a Saturday night. Yet, lately, the only time he feels awake is when he’s lying in bed, trying to sleep but can’t because all he can do is think.

He thinks about how quickly he’d said yes to Toby when he was asked to baby-sit. He thinks it’s because the extra money will help out with Christmas coming, and he knows Toby needs to get laid. But the real truth is that he was inexplicably relieved not to have had to make an excuse... to not make plans with Karen.

She’d laughed at him when he had told her what he was going to be doing, that he was going to be baby-sitting Toby’s daughter. I see how it is, she’d joked. You’re standing me up for a five-year-old. And even though she was kidding, he’d tried not to take it personally and he’d bitten his lip to keep from getting defensive.

But it’s been getting harder and harder for him to do that.