Adrienne Martin was your normal, twenty-two year old girl. Well normal, except that she had a three year old son and was a working single mother. Despite her situation, she wasn't doing too badly for herself; she had a small apartment on the east side of Baltimore, a decent job at the local theater, and she was looking into getting back to school.

She had been following the same routine for the past three years. She got up at six, every morning, showered and got dressed all within the one hour she had alone. Then she’d wake up Jamie, feed him, get him dressed, make his lunch and get him to her parents’ house before she headed to work.

It was usually a smooth routine, but today Jamie was being a bit more difficult than normal. He sat in his highchair and refused to eat breakfast.

“James Alexander, you need to eat breakfast.” She pointed at his untouched plate. “Come on, eat.”

Jamie pushed his plate away, crossed his little arms, and pouted. Adrienne sighed in defeat and took his plate, dumping the contents in a plastic bag and shoving it into his lunch box. She’d have to tell Andrea that he didn't eat. Maybe she could get him to eat it later.

Adrienne put on Jamie’s shoes and ruffled his light brown hair. He needed a haircut, but she dreaded the thought of taking him; he hated haircuts. Just another thing she’d have to add to the list of things to do.

“Alright little man, we've got to get you to Grandma and Grandpa’s and I have to get to work,” Adrienne told him as she pulled him out of his high chair and onto her hip.

She gripped him firmly as she threw both their bags over her shoulder and locked the door to their small apartment. Jamie was in a slightly better mood since he’d won the breakfast debacle and wrapped his arms around Adrienne’s neck, nuzzling into her hair without a word.

Not that Jamie ever spoke. He could say simple things like “mama”, “food”, “toons”, “yes”, “no” and “music.” All the doctors told her he was doing exceptionally well given the circumstances, but Adrienne knew he was behind, and it was all her fault.

He was born healthy without any deformities, but unfortunately he did have a few problems. He was born with a speech delay and there were nights when he didn't sleep; Adrienne didn't either, consequently. And it was her fault. Because before she found out she was pregnant, she was drinking away her problems after a horrible breakup and landed in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. She’d been three months pregnant and miraculously, she hadn't killed her baby. She’d quit drinking immediately, but the damage was done. It was her fault her child was developing slower than normal children. If she hadn't been so stupid and pining over her ex, maybe Jamie would be just like any other three year old.

“Music!” Jamie called to her as she slipped into the drivers’ seat.

“Okay, okay,” Adrienne laughed. She hit play on the old stereo and turned up the volume slightly. Jamie grinned as the opening chords of Remembering Sunday filled the car. Adrienne kept an eye on him through the rear-view mirror as he tried to sing along and match the beat with his hands. That was probably the only time he ever really tried to form words. Music had become the therapy he needed, and Adrienne could definitely supply him with plenty of that. After all, music supplied them both with something to bond over.

Adrienne sighed as she stared at her son in his car seat. Jamie was the spitting image of his father, something she wasn't sure was such a blessing. He had the same mouth and crooked smile, the same big brown eyes, and the same mop of brown hair. Honestly, he didn't really look much like her at all. Except that maybe that they shared the same personality, according to her parents, anyway.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at her childhood home and Andrea, Adrienne’s little sister, ran out to meet them. Andrea was seventeen, home schooled and dying to do something other than schoolwork. When Adrienne offered her fifty dollars a week to watch her nephew, she gladly accepted.

“Hey little guy,” Andrea grinned as she took Jamie into her arms. “Hey Aid.”

“Hey Dre,” Adrienne gave her a quick hug and handed her Jamie’s things. “He didn’t eat breakfast, so if he gets hungry, there’s food in his lunch bag.”

“I don’t know why you bring him food when we have plenty here.” Andrea rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’re going to let him starve.”

“I just feel better knowing that I have his things prepared,” Adrienne sighed.

“No, you just don’t want us to be ‘burdened’; which we’re not,” Andrea added for her. “So what’s going on with you? You seem… a little off.”

Adrienne smiled sadly. “Just having a bad morning, I guess.”

Andrea sighed. “Why?”

“I just am,” Adrienne shrugged. Then she decided that she ought to be honest. “Okay, fine. I just couldn't help but think how much Jamie looks like him.”

Andrea shook her head. “Even after all this time, you still think about him?

“Yeah, I do. I can’t not think about him, not when the most important thing I have is because of him,” Adrienne explained. “Look, I have to go. Work beckons me.”

Adrienne said her goodbyes as she made her way back to her vehicle and drove on to work with too much on her mind.