Sammie knew she hated it when he dressed like a homeless kid, but she’d also learned a long time ago to pick her battles with her stubborn and too-smart-for-his-own-good ten-year-old going on fifty.
“Did Leslie tell you why you’re seeing her?” she asked.
“She didn’t tell. She listened.” His belligerent tone let her know quite clearly what he thought of her own listening skills.
“This isn’t just about Friday night’s camping trip,” she said. “Our troubles are more serious, Sammie.”
“You said I’m not in trouble. I heard the cop tell you that they weren’t going to take any action.” Accusation was in every word.
Her son had betrayed her trust and now he didn’t trust her? They’d gone from bad to worse.
And she still hadn’t had a full night’s sleep.
“She’s a detective and I’m not talking about the police.”
She heard some shuffling. But Sammie didn’t open the door.
“Your grandfather claims I’m not a good mother.” Did the responding grunt communicate agreement or disgust with George Lowen?
“He’s trying to get you to go live with him.” If Sammie wanted to go, her battle was pretty much done before it had begun. And if he continued with this behavior, same thing.
More shuffling.
She couldn’t do this now. Couldn’t have him miss any more school or he’d be kicked out.
And then she’d have to drop out of her summer class and not graduate and spend at least another semester as a slightly-higher-than-average-paid hourly worker at the day care while her son wore cheap basketball shoes and ate school-sponsored lunches. She couldn’t get a promotion in her job until she had a degree.
“We have to go, Sammie.”
To her shock, the door opened. Sammie was standing there, dressed in his newest old pair of navy shorts with a clean, short-sleeved, light blue shirt that matched. He was wearing the sneakers she’d bought him, too, instead of the Converse shoes with the hole in the toe. The clothes he’d put on earlier that morning were in a pile on the bathroom floor.
He glared at her as he walked past, grabbed his book bag and stormed out the front door.
Grabbing a breakfast pastry and a juice box, Morgan hurried after him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE ENTIRE TIME Morgan was in class, she fought with herself. Her life was in chaos. She had a probl
em larger than anything she’d dealt with before looming on the horizon.
What was she doing sitting in English class, discussing Huckleberry Finn and Mark Twain? It seemed so trivial compared to what was going on in her life.
And what was the matter with her that talking to her English professor made her feel so good? It wasn’t like they were really friends.
Their give-and-take wasn’t mutual. He knew far more about her than she knew about him.
And he had no obligation to her whatsoever.
He was just a nice guy who got caught up in a tragic situation. Sammie was home and fine, and life would go on now.
“Was Huck a hero? A good guy?” Cal glanced around the surprisingly full classroom, surprising because it was the third Wednesday in July and ninety degrees outside.
“Nooo.” Bella drew out the word. She smiled at the man in his short-sleeved white dress shirt and striped tie at the head of the room. Cal’s hair was styled impeccably as always. It was long enough to be attractive in a slightly rakish way but still look completely professional.
Not that Morgan was admiring him or anything. She was just imagining what Cal must look like from Bella’s twenty-year-old perspective.
“Huck made poor choices.”