Page 87 of Long Time Coming

“I don’t know what I want. It’s all happening very quickly, but they’ve given me time to think about it.”

“This isn’t a decision you make alone.”

“I’m well aware of that, so I’ll keep you updated on how things progress or don’t.” She’s allowed to have job offers, promotions, hell, to even move if she wants. But locally, where I can still see my son per our agreement. “Things are so complicated. I’m sure nothing will come of it.”

“Something to drink?” She turns to weave through the living room of the brownstone and into the back where the kitchen is located.

“No. Thanks.” He’s taking too long, so I glance up the stairs. “Hey, Beck? Come on, buddy.”

She returns with two glasses of cold water and hands one to me. “Do you have any plans for the week?” she asks like we didn’t just have a conversation that might rip my kid away from me, making small talk like we do it all the time. Beck is supposed to be ready so we don’t have to speak at all.

“No big plans. The park today?—”

“Keep him off the merry-go-round.” The park always sets her off. It’s like she never had fun as a kid. “Remember how he almost fractured his elbow.”

“I remember how hedidn’tfracture his elbow.” She hates being challenged, but a chance of breaking a bone is not the same as breaking a bone. I don’t want him living secured in bubble wrap. I let him play but am right there to keep him safe when needed.

“Funny,” she replies, not laughing at all and smoothing her hair along the side of her head. “It was a close call.” She sips her water like she has the final say.

For me, it’s not worth the argument.

Eyeing the glass in my hand, she asks, “You’re not drinking? Don’t trust me not to poison you?” She laughs again.

What is it with women always talking about ways to kill me? “It wasn’t something I was worried about until now.” I’m still not going to drink it. Pretending that hanging out is normal is outside the boundaries that I’d like to keep in place. “Hey, Beck? Hurry up.”

“I don’t know what he’s doing up there. Probably playing with those plastic horses he wanted. Anyway, why are you so moody?”

“You got him horses?” Finally, something worth talking about.

“Yes. I said he could pick out a toy at the store last week, and he chose a set of two horses.” She’s sipping her water like she’s been stuck in the desert for days. I’m starting to wonder if she’s nervous or needs to see a doctor. One thing I don’t like is when she acts out of character. That means there’s more going on that I know will affect me. “He named them Bluebelly and Skyward. What strange names.”Another sip. “Don’t you think, Tagger?”

Oh shit. . . It was a trap, and I fell right into it.

My throat thickens. I don’t want to reignite a battle. “I think they’re perfectly fine for horses.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes like that was not the answer she was looking for.But there was never pleasing her anyway, so I gave up that notion a long time ago. “Let’s not do this. Part of the deal we made was that our son wouldn’t be exposed to any lasciviousness.”

I balk. “What the hell are you talking about, Anna?” Glancing up the stairs, it pisses me off that I let her get to me. I lower my voice to whisper, “What lasciviousness has he been exposed to?”

“Miss Christine is someone you’re having sex with?”

I swear to fucking hell and back, my eyes practically bug out from my skull. My heart starts racing like I’m in trouble with the principal for fucking his wife. I just really hope this isn’t something Beckett told her, or he and I are going to need to have a heart-to-heart. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought it was some gray-haired lady out in that godforsaken town you’re from. Only to find out she’s younger than I am and pretty.” She’ll have to spell it out because I’m not leading her down this path. She glances up the stairs and deems the coast clear enough to lean in and whisper, “I found her in your bed.”

Fuck.

What I have with Pris is none of Anna’s business. “When would you have found her in my bed?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

I balk again, too astonished to control it, but I need to regulate my reactions. She loves to get a rise out of me. Keeping my voice low, I reply, “Not sure if you don’t understand how this works, but we’re not together. That means I don’t have to confirm or deny anything to you. Just like you don’t owe me any explanation about Marcel or any part of your life outside of what concerns our son.”Fuck me, what’s taking so long.“Beckett?” I shout.

Anna moves to the door and opens it, signaling me to step outside. I follow her but leave the door cracked. As soon as we’re outside, she crosses her arms over her chest like she still believes she has a say in the matter. “She’s rustic at best. Simply put, she’s pedestrian, and I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who should be around my son.”

“Ourson.” My blood boils. I step down a couple of steps, needing air to cool me down. “She’s not fucking French, but she has a heart of gold, so don’t you dare?—”

“Our son needs to be surrounded by people who lift him in society and give him the connections to elevate his opportunities?—”

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