Then I figured out what set me on edge.
I guessed that Neeta didn’t talk gently to her son and she didn’t touch him gently either. He’d never felt it, at least not from a woman or, at least, not on any kind of normal basis. The other night, when she referred to him, she called him her “kid”. I’d thought nothing of it at the time but now it seemed detached. She didn’t call him “my son” or “my boy”. Just “my kid”.
This beautiful child was just her kid.
My heart turned over again as my stomach clenched and I had to take a cautious breath so he wouldn’t hear it and I could still control the tears that threatened.
He recovered and whispered, “She finds out, she’ll freak.”
“Finds out you want to live with your Dad?”
He nodded.
Of its own accord, though I didn’t do a thing to stop it, my hand slid from his jaw, across his soft cheek, over his thick hair and then down to curve around the side of his neck.
“And she’ll freak if she knows you’re willing to talk to the judge?”
“That and that I told Dad. But if she finds out and I say I didn’t say it to him, she’ll believe me.”
“She will?”
“I don’t lie to her.”
I thought this was likely because she lit into him if he did.
Still, I asked, “You don’t?”
“No. She’s not… she’s… Blake… she’s used to getting lied to. She knows when someone’s lyin’. She told me that Dad and me, Grandpop, Uncle Wood, we were the only ones never lied to her. She always believes me. I just gotta let Dad know and I gotta do it so I don’t hafta lie to her.”
I studied him.
Then I nodded. “Okay, honey, I’ll tell your Dad.”
He looked visibly relieved and I instantly wished I’d gotten into a catfight with his mother so I had a chance to get my licks in.
“Thanks, Lauren,” he said quietly.
“Laurie,” I corrected.
“Laurie?”
“What your Dad and my friends call me.”
He smiled a small smile. “Okay. Laurie.”
“All right, baby,” I whispered. “And Jonas?”
“Yeah?”
“Before you leave, I’ll give you my number. You have anything you need, anytime, call me. And if you have anything you need to keep from your Mom but you need your Dad to know and you feel you can’t tell him, you let me know and I’ll tell him for you. We got a deal?”
His smile got a bit bigger. It wasn’t his normal, broad, confident smile but it was better.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Now, one more chance, you want more cake?”
The smile came back full force.
“Yeah.”
“I rinsed your plate, honey, get me another one.”
I was cutting Jonas’s second slice of cake when Tate came in. Both Jonas and I looked at him and I noted his face wasn’t hard anymore but he didn’t look happy.
“Jonas is having more cake, honey. You want another piece?”
“No, Ace. Thanks,” Tate answered and I lifted my brows to him. His answer was to close his eyes slowly, tilt his chin in a subtle negative then open them and look at Jonas.
I wouldn’t find out what had happened on the deck until after Jonas ate his cake, after Jonas and I finished the dishes and after we watched a movie that was so gory, I spent the vast majority of it with my face in Tate’s chest which Jonas thought was amusing, considering he’d seen that movie a gazillion (his words) times and he thought the gore factor was average (again his words). It was also after Jonas went downstairs to his bedroom (one of the rooms to which I didn’t open the door when Tate first went away but had since seen and cleaned).
When Jonas was off, Tate went straight to the fridge and got a beer. I followed him to the kitchen, his hand came out of the fridge and he lifted up a bottle in silent question. I shook my head. He twisted off the cap, tossed it into the garbage and then led me out to the back patio where we sat in wrought iron chairs. I suspected he took me here because the front deck was just over Jonas’s room and, if he had his windows open, he could hear.
“Well?” I asked when we’d settled.
“She’s off on one,” he told me, taking a pull of his beer.
“What does that mean?”
“Said she was comin’ tomorrow to get him.”
“Why?”
In the dark, I saw his head turned to me. “You.”
“Me?”
“You’re here. She’s got one of her posse spyin’ and they said you’re still here. So she says she doesn’t want him here if you’re here.”
“I’ll go to the hotel,” I offered. “I’ll do it tonight.”
“The fuck you will, babe.”
“Tate –”
“She doesn’t control your life. She doesn’t control my life. And, when my son is with me, she doesn’t control his life.”
He sounded pretty angry, in fact, his voice was vibrating so I said softly, “Okay, honey.”
“You went to the hotel last night, Laurie and one of those bitches saw you with Ned and Betty. She thought you were out.”
Darn, darn and double darn.
How could Neeta have a posse? Who could even like her? And why did I lose it and walk out on Tate?