A Son's Tale

He did. His body had been humming with need for days. And he found her immensely attractive. More so now that they’d established their relationship would only go as deep as six feet of chlorinated water.

“The water’s lovely,” she said. “I swim every night.” She unfastened her top, revealing bare shoulders and cleavage. She wasn’t wearing a bra and didn’t appear the least bit shy showing him that fact. Her blouse landed on the cool decking.

“Naked?” he asked her, liking this conversation a whole lot better. He was at home here. Knew exactly what to say. What to do.

“Of course. You ever swim naked, Professor?” She reached for his belt buckle.

“Every chance I get,” he answered, looking her straight in the eye. He could feel her fingers slide his belt out of the loop, and then the slight tug as the leather unfastened from the hinge. He looked down at her breasts. Thought of the water lapping against their bodies.

And when her hand reached for the button at the waistband of his pants, he covered her fingers with his own.

Her question was wordless, but plain as she met his gaze.

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t believe he’d said the words. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

He couldn’t go through with it. He wanted to. He should. But he couldn’t. Morgan’s features kept appearing in his mind’s eye. As he’d seen her in class—vibrant, engaged. And at home—eyes shadowed with worry and fear. She’d be afraid tonight. The night before her first day of court.

Classy woman that she was, Kelsey didn’t pressure him for answers. “Then I’m sorry, too,” she said softly. “You’re welcome to stay. Pour a second glass of wine. Or you’re welcome to show yourself out.” She didn’t wait for his decision. Turning, she stripped out of her skirt, slid her panties down perfect, long, tanned legs, left them in a puddle by her blouse and dove into the pool.

Cal let himself out.

* * *

SOMETHING WAS WRONG with him. Deeply wrong with him. No woman had ever infiltrated his mind as Morgan Lowen had. Cal fretted all the way home and then, without stopping for a glass of whiskey, went straight into his office. His father’s door was shut, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. He needed time alone, time to focus on real life.

Cal opened his book, started at Chapter One and began to read.

Miller had the pages in his possession. Cal had to take a new look at them, from the perspective of a police detective rabid to take his father down. For the next couple of hours he refused to let his mind wander.

* * *

“YOUR HONOR, I AM NOT a heartless man. To the contrary, I stand before you with a very full heart this morning as I do one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done in my life. I am here today as a parent, doing what is best for my child and my grandchild in spite of the fact that in order to do what’s best I must hurt those who I am trying to help.”

Morgan almost broke her promise to herself and turned her head to look at the man who was seated with her mother and their attorney at the table across the aisle from her. She’d been in the courthouse for half an hour and didn’t even know what her parents were wearing.

Her father, as the plaintiff, had been given the opportunity to be heard first. Morgan was shocked that he was speaking for himself.

But then maybe, like her, he’d been counseled that he’d be better suited to speak his heart to the judge rather than rely on legalities put forth by a paid professional.

He’d also obviously been thoroughly coached on how to present himself and what to say. Because her father would never have admitted out loud that he had a full heart. It just wasn’t his way.

Dressed in a navy linen suit with matching leather pumps, she sat alone at her table. Julie, the only member of the audience in the otherwise closed court room, sat right behind her. She wasn’t allowed to speak, but when her father had offered no objections, the judge had allowed Julie in the room.

Leslie was not there. She’d sent her report in electronically.

“Your Honor, I have two serious issues to bring for your consideration in my request to grant my wife and me full custody of our grandson, Samuel Elias Lowen. I will speak to the most recent tragedy, Samuel’s disappearance, first, as it is what brought my grandson to the court’s attention.

“Samuel is searching for his place as a man in this world. His mother gives him neither the responsibility nor the freedom to know what he needs. Samuel has tried repeatedly to discuss this situation with his mother, but she cannot see him as anything other than her little boy. The boy had been growing increasingly angry. He was afraid of the negative feelings he was having toward his mother. And so, in desperation, he ran away to show her he needed to be given the chance to grow up.”

Morgan could hardly bear to listen. But she hung on to every word. Had her father really talked to Sammie? Had her son confided in him?

She didn’t believe it. And yet, George sounded so convincing. The judge certainly looked like he was believing every word.

Part of what her father said was right; she hadn’t been able to hear what Sammie was telling her. She’d let him down.

And he’d run away to teach her a lesson.

And then she’d made things worse with that stupid monitor. Had Sammie told her mother about that? Had her mother told her dad? Was her poor judgment, her bad choice, in Leslie’s report, as well?