A Son's Tale

It was that easy?

Just bring someone over and his father would join the world of the living?

“The girl obviously means something to you, Cal.”

“She’s a student.”

“You’ve never visited a student at home before.”

“Her son was missing. It reminded me of…you know what it reminded me of.”

“At first, that’s why you went. It’s not why you stayed.”

“I’m seeing someone, Dad. I told you that. I was there Thursday night, remember? Her name’s Kelsey. She’s an art professor and I like her a lot.”

“Sure you do. Just like you like all the others.”

“Yeah, so? What’s your point?”

“I have no point to make, son. You started this.”

Sometimes his father really pissed him off. Tossing the new basketball into Frank’s room, he walked out.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MORGAN FOLLOWED Cal to his place, driving Sammie. She’d agreed to his request to meet Sammie on Sammie’s turf, thinking the boy would be more comfortable with that. And Cal had said his place was kind of hard to find. But at the same time, she wanted to be free to keep her promise to Sammie and leave the second he said he was ready to go.

Or, if she got really lucky, to be able to slip out to the grocery alone while her son spent time with Cal and his father.

For the first ten minutes of the drive, her son had been engrossed in the handheld gaming device his grandmother had given him. Morgan was trying to decide if she was going to let him take it into Cal’s house or not. On the one hand, she didn’t want to incite an argument with Sammie by forcing him to leave the game in the car. On the other hand, she didn’t want her son wasting two grown men’s time by sitting in their home and ignoring them while he shot at martians.

Putting the unresolved issue aside for a moment, she wondered what Cal had thought of her son. Their meeting replayed itself in her mind. Her answering the door. Calling out to Sammie, who showed up dressed in respectable cotton shorts, a tank top she’d picked up for two dollars at a discount store and the basketball shoes with the hole in the toe. Cal looking her straight in the eye for a second, like he was as glad to see her as she was to see him, then turning his focus on Sammie and saying hello.

Sammie had answered back, politely enough. And then they’d split up into the two cars to make the trek out to Cal’s place.

It had been completely uneventful. But she was obsessing about it anyway.

Had the UT basketball shirt he’d had on been for Sammie’s benefit?

Could he tell she was sexually attracted to him?

Where in the hell had that thought come from?

Morgan glanced at her son. “Thanks for doing this, Sammie.”

“Whatever.” It’s not like I had a lot of choice, her son’s tone seemed to say.

“What did you think of Professor Whittier?”

“He says hello nice.” Sammie’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Morgan took a deep breath. She loved her son more than life. If she had to go through pain and stress while raising him, then so be it. He was worth anything she might have to endure. Anything.

Cal’s house was set back in some woods, down a curving driveway. The brick house was quite a bit larger than her duplex, but still not huge. The bungalow was well kept and had a newish-looking roof.

“New ropes,” Sammie said. Following her son’s gaze up to the garage roof line, Morgan saw the old rusty hoop hung with a fresh white basket and couldn’t speak.

Not that she needed to. Her son had already opened the passenger’s side door and was climbing out. It was only when the door slammed shut behind him that she saw the gaming device resting abandoned on his seat.