A Son's Tale
Just one that hadn’t started yet. Or wasn’t physical yet. Or…something.
“Why are you smiling?” Sammie asked as she drove him to school Wednesday morning.
“Because the sun is shining and I’m glad you’re here with me and we’re healthy and—”
“Last night when you took me to see Leslie after you picked me up from Frank’s, I told her that the judge hadn’t decided yet where I’m going to live.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. She doesn’t usually say nothing about anything.”
“Anything,” she corrected automatically. Then had a momentary pang of regret, thinking she should apologize, and then decided to let the correction stand.
“‘Anything.’ And I told her that I wanted to live with you, Mom.”
Putting the car carefully into Park as she pulled up in front of Sammie’s school, Morgan turned toward her son. “You did?”
He nodded. “I just wanted you to know.”
Tears would upset him. She knew that. So Morgan smiled, kissed her son goodbye, told him she loved him as best she could with a lump in her throat and then let the tears well as she watched him trudge into the building.
With a heart filled to capacity she drove to the university and, getting there fifteen minutes early, sat in her car, picked up her phone and called her mother.
“Morgan? Good morning, dear. I’m so sorry I missed your call last night. I tried to call you all afternoon and you never picked up.”
She concentrated on her fellow students walking across the campus, on their way to wherever they were headed. “I needed time to think.”
“I understand, sweetie. You have no idea how horrible I felt all day. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I love you, baby. You know that.”
“I know, Mom.” She wasn’t surprised that Grace regretted her actions the day before. Her mother was firmly under George’s control. She loved the man. Morgan didn’t understand it, but she accepted it.
“I didn’t see that you’d called until this morning. My phone had gone dead after trying you all afternoon… .”
And talking to George, too, Morgan was sure. Her father would have kept in particularly close contact with his wife yesterday afternoon. He’d have known Grace’s state of mind and would make sure that she stayed solidly certain that she’d done the right thing.
“I forgot last night was theater night.”
“Oh, we didn’t go to the theater, honey. Your father gave those tickets away. Neither one of us felt like socializing. We just stayed here at home. Had a quiet dinner. And talked.”
Dare she hope? “What did you talk about?”
“How our lives were going to change when Sammie came to live with us. Redoing his room. Where he’s going to go to school. Your father called the Hayward Academy this morning and was lucky enough to get a spot, even at this late notice.”
Hayward Academy. A very elite school for boys. Where they wore uniforms. One that was academically focused and had only intramural sports teams.
Sammie told Leslie he wanted to live with Morgan. Cal supported her. Julie supported her. “I wanted to speak with
you about that, Mom.”
“Oh, yes, dear, I’m sorry. We should have talked to you, as well. We’ll have to work on that. To be sure and include you in all of the decisions regarding Sammie’s life… .”
“No, Mom, I want to talk to you about the whole custody suit.”
“Okay.” Her mother sounded hopeful. And, strangely enough, that strengthened Morgan’s resolve.
“I want you to talk to Daddy about the possibility of a compromise,” she said, both hands on her steering wheel. “I’d talk to him myself, but I make him angry and then he doesn’t hear what I have to say.”
“What kind of compromise, Morgan?” Doubt entered her mother’s voice.