“He’s actually been nicer since he was at your house. I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you for all of this.”
“You thank me every time I walk through the kitchen. I can’t believe how much of a difference the new curtains make.”
“Curtains are hardly comparable to my son’s life,” she said with a sleepy chuckle. Cal wondered if she was in her bedroom.
He took another sip of whiskey. It was already half-gone. He had to get back to his book.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, wincing at his abruptness. “When you come by to get Sammie after work.”
“You’re sure he’s not a problem?”
“If things go as well as they ended up on Saturday, I’m going to be the one in debt here,” he told her. “We might be helping a little bit with Sammie, but he could be giving my father back a piece of life.”
So they were even. No one owed anyone anything.
Except him. He owed Kelsey Barber dinner.
* * *
AFTER ANOTHER SLEEPLESS night, Morgan dropped Sammie off at class on Tuesday.
“Remember, Professor Whittier will be picking you up this afternoon.”
“I know, Mom. I’m going straight to Julie’s office to wait for him.” The boy’s tone was affable. Maybe even eager.
Could a lack of male companionship really have been their problem?
“I’ll remember to be polite and you don’t have to hurry to pick me up,” he added quickly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he turned to her, a frown between his brows. “You’ve got the four-year-olds today, and it’s Tuesday so the twins’ dad will be coming to get them. Don’t worry if he’s late, is all. I’ll be fine.”
Her little man. So maturely aware of her feelings, too. What would she do if she lost him?
What would he become under her father’s chauvinistic rule?
With the kiss to his cheek that he still allowed her, Morgan sent him off and watched until he was inside the building. Then, still sitting outside his school, she opened her cell phone.
The number wasn’t on speed dial. But she knew it by heart. And was slightly shocked when her father picked up. Until he spoke.
“So you’ve finally changed your mind? You ready to end this thing before you drag that boy into court?”
She almost hung up. “I want to talk to you, Daddy. I know it’s late notice, but can you
meet me for lunch today?” She had an hour.
“I’ve got the Lyle brothers coming in, and then Dennison.” He paused. She heard a page turn. “I’ll have Margaret call and bump them an hour.” He told her to meet him at his favorite restaurant at noon.
He didn’t ask about her schedule. Didn’t consider her work. Or the fact that she had lunch from eleven-thirty to twelve-thirty.
But she wouldn’t get angry. Anger would be counterproductive. It wouldn’t help Sammie. And she could have someone cover her class if she didn’t make it back right at twelve-thirty. She’d arranged for a dance instructor to come in that afternoon, anyway. All anyone would have to do for her was supervise.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
For her own mental health she translated his harrumph into “you’re welcome.”
* * *
CAL ONLY HAD TWO classes during summer session. The upper-level literature class he had with Morgan, and another, individually regulated graduate-level English Lit Review class. The latter had eleven students, all working independently and meeting with him as their schedules coordinated with his. Each student had to pick ten pieces of English literature from a predetermined list and write twenty-page reviews, analyzing the works according to a series of set guidelines. Cal’s job was to assist them, answer their questions, discuss their work and provide grades.
Messages from two students requesting meetings were waiting for him on his answering machine Tuesday morning. Along with a return call from Ramsey Miller.