A Son's Tale

“At least you have a fighting chance.”

“Yeah.”

Mind racing for something to give her, Cal said, “You think he could have been giving you all time to work this out on your own?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He didn’t say so. I just don’t think he was ready to make such a serious decision in an hour’s time. I figure he needs to think about ramifications or possible solutions he might be able to offer.”

“So you definitely have hope that you could win?”

“I don’t know.”

His air conditioner was running hard. Cal turned it off. “You sound different.” She was concerning the hell out of him.

“I think I am different,” she said. “I have a new perspective, I guess. Anyway, I don’t think I’m going back to court.”

“What?” Surely she wasn’t thinking about taking Sammie and running. He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it formed. Morgan wouldn’t run from trouble.

“I think my folks are right.” Her words shocked the feeling right out of him. “Hearing them in court this morning, listening to them as I imagine the judge would hear them…I think if I were in his position I’d grant them full custody. And if I really think that, and I really love my son, and I really mean it when I say I will do anything for him, then I have to turn him over to them.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I think I do. I’ve spent this day looking back over my life, over my choices, and I can’t honestly tell you whether I went into court today to fight for myself or fight for my son. I couldn’t bear to lose Sammie. I was so certain I was right, I wasn’t really listening to Sammie. Or anyone else. I was just like my father.

“And what kind of life am I giving my son? He ran away that Friday, but he could just as easily have been kidnapped. There was one man out there ready to take advantage of an opportunity to hurt my father. I’m sure there are more. And how do we know when any of them might see an opportunity and act on it? Beyond that, Sammie could be living with every opportunity at his disposal and I’m depriving him because I don’t get along with my father. Daddy’s a chauvinist. He’ll be different with Sammie than he was with me. Value him more because he’s his heir.”

“Sammie’s been around ten years. Your father has had the opportunity to spend as much time with him as he wanted, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How much time has he spent with him?”

Morgan didn’t reply and Cal thought maybe he was getting through to her until she said, “Anyway, I can tell you tonight that from now on all of my fight will be for Sammie, and only Sammie.”

He wanted to tell her that it always had been, but figured she wouldn’t believe him. She’d had a rough day. Hearing your own parents discredit you in court was enough to get anyone down.

There had to be a solution here. He racked his brain and couldn’t find it. “Have you told your folks yet?”

“No. I called them but they didn’t pick up. They have season tickets to Little Broadway and I think there was a show tonight. Anyway, I left a message on Mom’s cell telling her I wanted to speak with them.”

Thank God. They had time.

“I plan to call them in the morning.”

“Wait.”

“There’s really no point, Cal. I have to do what’s best for Sammie. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.”

“Do you think spending time with Frank is best for Sammie? The training? The tryouts?”

“Of course.”

“And do you think your parents will facilitate that?”

Her pause was answer enough. “I can ask them.”

“But what if you do and they say no? If you’ve given over Sammie’s care to them, you won’t be able to do anything to help him with that.”

It wasn’t about his father. Or basketball. But he used them because he knew that she’d been so pleased with the change in Sammie since he’d been introduced to Frank.