Page 16 of Crossing the Lines for Love

“Yes. Our usual is fine.”

I picked up pizza from our favorite pizza spot at least once a month and treated my parents to dinner a few times a month. They didn’t charge me to watch Deuce, so it was the least I could do to show them my appreciation.

“I’ll be there soon.”

About an hour later, I entered my parents’ home and received a warm welcome from my son. He was always excited to see me, and the feeling was mutual. I was holding the pizza boxes when he rushed to me and wrapped his arms around my legs.

“Daddy, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, son. Let me put this down.”

He released me and followed me to the kitchen. When I put the boxes on the counter, I turned around, picked him up, and tossed him in the air. He immediately broke into a fit of giggles as I caught him and repeated the action.

“I’ve told you about tossing my grandson around like a rag doll,” my mother fussed.

She hated it when my father and I were anything but gentle with Deuce. Thank goodness my son and I had moved out, and I could roughhouse with him in the privacy of our apartment.

“He’s fine, Ma. Do you see how he’s laughing?”

“He’s barely five years old, Niko. He doesn’t know what’s good for him. Cut it out.”

I kissed my son’s cheek and put him down.

“I’m hungry, Daddy.”

“Okay. We can have some pizza after we wash our hands. Let’s go.”

He followed me to the bathroom, and after we had washed our hands, we returned to the kitchen. By then, my dad had come home and was washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

“Wassup, Pops?”

“Nothing but my stomach growling.”

“Well, let’s eat. I’m starving too.”

Once everyone was seated, we filled our plates with pizza and silently enjoyed a few bites. Suddenly, my mother got up and left the kitchen before returning with Deuce’s iPad and headphones. Typically, we didn’t let him have his electronics at the table, so I knew my mother wanted to discuss something serious.

“Niko asked an interesting question today,” Ma said once she’d found his favorite show on the iPad and put his headphones on.

“Oh really? What was it?”

“Where’s his mother?”

I almost choked on the pizza I had in my mouth. “He asked what?”

“He wants to know where his mother is, Son.”

“Are you sure that’s what he said? Sometimes?—”

“I know what my grandson said. I know I asked this a while back, but?—”

“Nothing has changed, Ma. Chanice has only reached out a few times over the past four years. She gave me full custody for a reason.”

“If she didn’t plan to reach out more than once a year, she should’ve signed over her rights. Since when does full custody mean no contact for the other parent? She’s not concerned about her son’s well-being?”

“I don’t know because I haven’t talked to her.”

“Maybe it’s time you give her a call.”

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