“Go away.”
“No. I will not go away. I’m your mother whether you like it or not and I will not be spoken to in that tone. Now, sit up on your bed and you give me your full attention. Understand?” Em pushed his door open, crossing the room to perch on the edge of his bed.
He scooted to the other side like she had the plague, and that was just fine. He could be as angry as he liked, but he would hear her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this fight?”
“Because it’s no big deal.”
“It absolutely is a big deal when you come home with an egg the size of the ones Miss Prissy’s prized chicken lays.”
Stony silence.
“I won’t allow anyone to lay their hands on you, Clifton. It’s unacceptable, you hear me? You could have been seriously hurt, and nothing—nothing about that is okay with me. What kind of mother would I be if I let someone hurt you just because you don’t want to be a snitch? I’m going to Principal Crawford this morning, and we’ll see to makin’ sure no one puts another hand on you.”
He pressed himself against the wall and shrugged a shoulder. “I said it’s no big deal, Mom.”
Em tugged on the leg of his jeans. “If it’s not such a big deal, why did you call your daddy and tell him you wanted to come live with him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Clifton, I want you to know something, and I want you to really hear me when I tell you, I love you and your brother more than I’ve ever loved anythin’ else. If you’re really unhappy with me, then we’ll talk about where you should live. Maybe we can find a way for you to see your dad more. I don’t ever want you to be unhappy, son. I surely don’t want you beat up. I know what happened with... Your dad is—”
“He wears girls’ clothes.”
Em nodded, her expression grim. “He does, but I’ll defend his right to do so with my last breath. Know why?”
“Why?”
“Because hidin’ who you are inside hurts. Your dad wasn’t happy pretending to be someone he wasn’t. But he pretended because that’s what everyone said he should do. Because that’s what all his friends said he should do—it’s what society says you should do. I don’t want your dad to hurt. But I don’t want you to hurt, either, and if living with your father makes you hurt less, then...” She fought the hitch in her words. She needed to stay strong when she did this. “Then we’ll talk about it. I don’t want to, but I will. We’ll figure something out. Work out some new rules for more visitation.”
His silence sat in her heart like a heavy stone. Em rose to leave, pausing for a moment. She couldn’t bear how conflicted Clifton was. Couldn’t bear this lost, angry boy, a mere ghost of the child he’d been just a few months ago. That was when she knew what she had to do. “Clifton?”
“What?”
“I need you to remember something for me, okay?”
“What?”
“No matter where you live. No matter how near or far you are from me, no matter how angry you are with me, I’ll always be here. There’ll never be a day your mama won’t be here. And I love you. So, so much.”
She padded silently out of his room, heading down the stairs to devise the beginnings of the plan that had kept her up all night. She was going to put her life back on track and focus on what was next. Keeping the boys with her. If that meant rearranging her entire life to do it—then that’s what she’d do.
Part of that began with Jax. Em picked up her cell phone, her throat tight, her eyes stinging with tears, and she texted him.
“Done.”
*
Jax sat in his truck on the bridge, waiting for Reece to arrive with his stomach on full tilt, his fingers like ice. He’d been texting Em all day with no luck. She didn’t answer her office phone, and he didn’t want to rouse suspicion by calling Dixie and asking her about it.
But he had to see her. He needed her to know that this was no longer a fun, sexy game for him. This was real. They could be real. Damn the people who’d talk—he’d handle it. Damn everything but him, and Em, and their kids. Together.
Somehow, he had to make her see that it didn’t have to be like it was with her ex. She didn’t have to give up anything for him. She could have whatever color she damn well pleased on the walls, for some towels, wherever. The only thing she had to give him was her heart. Her trust that he wouldn’t discard it...dismiss it.
He just had to do this one thing, and he wanted to do it right.
Checking his phone again, he scowled. Where was she? He lobbed the phone on the passenger seat, running a hand over his jaw when he glanced at the digital clock on his dash.