Heart of Glass (Fostering Love 3)

“Why don’t you guys leave her with me tonight?” I asked, still thrumming after my conversation with Morgan with an energy that made staying up all night with an infant seem like an okay idea.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his face sagging with relief. “Please be serious right now.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Give Ani a call and let me know.”

“Oh, I’m telling you yes right now,” he said firmly. “Ani can argue all she wants.”

“Cool.” I pushed myself away from the door frame and stretched. “Let me know later when you want to drop her off. I’m headed out for the day.”

“What?” he asked, his head jerking back in surprise. “Where you going?”

“I’m the boss,” I joked. “I’m going wherever I want.”

I walked away with the sound of his curses ringing in my ears. I felt for him—Monday was always super busy for us and it was going to suck trying to get everything done while I was gone, but there was no way I was going to be able to work. My mind was too cluttered with Morgan and Etta and the trip I needed to plan so I could get down to see them.

I left the office and drove straight to my parents’ house. I’d been avoiding my mom since Morgan had put off any visiting, and I was anxious to tell her she could finally make some plans. I just hoped I could tamp down my excitement enough that she didn’t see right through me.

“Hey, Ma?” I called as I opened the front door. “Where you at?”

“She’s out back,” my dad replied, coming down the hallway. “What are you doing here at eight in the morning?”

“Took the day off,” I said, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face.

I wasn’t someone who took random days off. I planned and let them know in advance if I wouldn’t be in the office, and I didn’t even do that very often. If there was one thing my dad had taught me, it was the value of a good work ethic. My career in the family business hadn’t dampened that; if anything, it made me work harder. As one of the owner’s sons, I set the example, and I didn’t want it to be a shitty one. We were building something that was going to last, hopefully for generations. I wouldn’t jeopardize that by half-assing my job.

“Well,” he said with a shrug. “You wanna spend your rare day off with your mama, you be my guest,” he teased.

“Can’t think of better company,” I replied.

We walked out back to where my mom was planting flowers in little pots, and I sat down on the porch steps to watch her work.

“Trevor,” she said happily. “What are you doing here?” I guessed I’d surprised both of them.

“I got a call from Morgan today,” I said easily, leaning back against the porch. “She said whenever we want to visit, we’re welcome.”

“Really?” Mom asked, pausing with her hands still wrist deep in the soil. “God, that’s a relief.”

“I told you she just wanted to settle first,” I reminded her.

“Well, yes,” she replied, her hands moving in the soil once again. “But I thought that just might be to put us off, you know? A lot can change in ten years—we don’t really know this woman. She could have any number of things running through her head. I’m just glad she’ll let us see little Henrietta.”

“You’ll like her, Mom,” I said, watching her closely as my dad sat down in a lawn chair near us. “And she already likes you.”

“I never said I didn’t like her,” she argued. “What I remember, anyway. She was a sweet girl. Good manners, though I have no idea where she picked those up, considering her parents.”

“She still has good manners,” I replied, a little bothered by my mom’s comment. From what Morgan had said, her dad was a stand-up guy. Sure, he’d had trouble in the past, but from what I could tell, he was a good father. Besides, if she really judged by where a person came from, her view of me and my brothers couldn’t be very high.

“When did she say we could go visit?” my dad asked.

“She said whenever,” I replied, trying hard not to open my mouth and ask my mom exactly what she’d meant about Morgan’s parents. “So, as soon as we decide to go, we’ll go.”

“Good, I’ll go put my shoes on,” my mom joked. I forced a smile.

“I told her that was a possibility,” I confessed.

“Oh, yeah? What else have you told her?” Mom asked.

“That you’re great,” I replied, my smile coming more easily at her teasing tone. It was hard to stay mad at my mom for any length of time. “That you can’t wait to meet them. That we all consider them part of our family.”