Page 78 of After the Rain

"It's science, Mr. Mitchell. Science is messy."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Dinner was chaos in the best possible way—Cooper explaining volcanic formations between bites of spaghetti, Ezra adding scientific details that made him feel like a junior geologist, all of us laughing when Cooper attempted to demonstrate lava flow with his marinara sauce.

"This is actually educational," Cooper declared, creating elaborate sauce patterns on his plate.

"This is actually making a mess," I corrected.

"Educational messes are the best kind," Ezra said diplomatically.

"Grandpa Fletcher asked me lots of questions about Mr. Mitchell when Mommy picked me up yesterday," Cooper said casually, still focused on his sauce volcano.

The innocent statement sent ice through my veins. I caught Ezra's sharp glance across the table, both of us suddenly alert to danger we'd been foolish to ignore.

"What kind of questions?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral.

"He wanted to know if Mr. Mitchell sleeps over and if you and he kiss like grown-ups do." Cooper's matter-of-fact deliverymade the revelation even more chilling. "I told him yes because lying is wrong, right? But then Mommy got upset and told Grandpa to stop asking me questions."

My appetite vanished completely. Richard was using Cooper as an information source, pumping him for details about our relationship. The manipulation was sophisticated and disgusting.

"Cooper, did Grandpa Fletcher ask you anything else?"

"He wanted to know if I like having Mr. Mitchell around, and if you two ever fight, and if Mr. Mitchell ever gets mad at me." Cooper paused, seeming to sense the tension he'd created. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, buddy. You did nothing wrong." I forced reassurance into my voice while my mind raced through implications. "But from now on, if any grown-up asks you questions about our family, you tell them to talk to me instead, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy. Are you and Mr. Mitchell in trouble?"

"No, Cooper. We're not in trouble. Some grown-ups just ask too many questions sometimes."

The moment Cooper headed upstairs for his bath, I was dialing Sarah's number with shaking hands.

"Wade?" Sarah's voice was tight with stress when she answered. "I was going to call you tonight."

"What the hell is happening with your parents?"

"They've hired a private investigator," she said without preamble. "Wade, they have photographs of you and Ezra together, statements from neighbors, detailed documentation of his presence in Cooper's life."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What kind of photographs?"

"Kissing on your front porch. Ezra's car in your driveway overnight. The two of you holding hands at Cooper's birthdayparty." Sarah's voice cracked with strain. "They're preparing to file for emergency custody."

The room spun around me. Emergency custody meant they believed Cooper was in immediate danger. It meant supervised visits, court hearings, my relationship with my son reduced to a few hours a week under official observation.

"On what grounds?"

"Unstable lifestyle. Inappropriate relationship choices. Exposing Cooper to sexual content unsuitable for his age." Sarah was crying now, her words coming in broken rushes. "Wade, the papers will be served tomorrow. I tried to talk them out of it, but they won't listen."

Ezra appeared in the kitchen doorway, his face pale with understanding. He'd heard enough to know our world was about to implode.

"Sarah, Cooper is happy and healthy. He's thriving academically and socially. There's no evidence of harm or inappropriate exposure."

"I know that. You know that. But they have lawyers and money and connections in the family court system." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Wade, they think they can prove that your relationship with Ezra is harmful to Cooper's development."

The systematic preparation suggested this attack had been planned for weeks, maybe months. While I'd been building a life with Ezra, the Fletchers had been building a case against me.

"What can I do?"

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