His First Choice

“Yet he told my sister about it.”

He didn’t like that part. Didn’t really understand it. But he couldn’t see how he could work out such an omission with a four-year-old.

“Tressa’s a good mom.” He heard himself sounding repetitious, but didn’t know any other way to help her understand, make her understand, for God’s sake.

This was his life she was messing with.

And she was making any possibility of something between them more remote. Didn’t she get that?

“She called me last night as soon as she knew why Sydney was there. She was upset and didn’t want to upset Levi. She asked me to come get him immediately and asked Sydney to sit with them, and not ask her any more questions, until I arrived. That’s how conscientious she is of our son’s welfare. Sydney called me after speaking with Tressa. She wanted to speak with Levi.”

“I’m assuming you let her.”

“Of course.”

She didn’t ask the outcome, but he told her, anyway. “She said that she’s going to keep an eye on Tressa, stopping in now and then during her weekends, but that she wasn’t overly concerned. Just being careful. I’m assuming because you were the one who’d made the call.”

She’d overreacted. It was obvious to him. And while one part applauded her level of conscientiousness, another par

t of him resented the fact that she hadn’t just called him, as a friend, and asked him about it. “We could have had this conversation last night, you know. Without involving social services.”

He could swear a look of pain crossed over her face. Or remorse?

“I’m a social worker, Jem. You have no idea the things I see—day in and day out, over and over—with different kids, different families. I will always err on the side of better safe than sorry.”

Everything inside of him slowed down and came to a halt.

He was as bad as Tressa, making it all about him. Which wasn’t like him at all.

“Fair enough.”

“I can’t speak to anyone officially now,” she said. “I’m off the case. But I have to tell you...from where I’m sitting, I’m concerned about Levi. Are you absolutely certain that your ex-wife isn’t hurting him?”

“Absolutely.” Tressa was a lot of things, but she loved Levi. “She’d die for him.”

“That doesn’t mean that, in a fit of drama, she wouldn’t hurt him.” She was looking at him deeply. The thought was inane. And still there. She was trying to tell him something, but he wasn’t getting it.

“Tressa isn’t the violent type.”

She didn’t look any more satisfied with his answer than he was with the entire conversation.

But at least he knew one thing.

She was, officially, completely, off the case. He had nothing more to fear from her.

And for that, he was glad.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IT ALL STARTED because he had to eat. Levi, that was. And, well, Jem, too. When Lacey and Kacey had returned home Friday from their walk on the beach, and she’d seen the permit taped to her front window—the moment when she faced the fact that she really was getting her new dream room—she’d insisted that Kacey show her how much the room would cost.

She was going to contribute at least half of it. They settled on Lacey’s half being her birthday gift to her sister, because Lacey was getting truly upset, and that was when she’d seen how little Jem was making on the deal.

Not because he’d broken out his labor costs, but because she’d done the math on the choices she’d made. And while they’d been in the home improvement store, she’d seen how much lumber cost.

Kacey had pointed out that he’d have a pretty substantial contractor discount, but the wood wouldn’t be free.

He was doing this as a favor to Kacey.