Hold On (Page 49)

God, Ethan really dug having Merry around.

Damn.

“Ethan, honey—”

He threw his controller down on the couch between us and crossed his arms on his little man chest, interrupting me. “I just want you to be happy. I know Gramma does too. She worries. She’s a mom, just like you, but I got you to look after me. She’s a mom with a kid who doesn’t have anyone who’ll look after her.”

And my kid was good at laying the guilt on too.

Shit.

“I’m an adult and I can look after myself, baby. I can look after both of us,” I told him.

“I know you can, Mom,” he declared impatiently. “But that doesn’t mean you should. Not alone. Not when you’re pretty and cool and funny and like football and should have a guy around who likes you just as much as Gram and me.”

“I can’t just order a guy off a menu, kid,” I told him jokingly, hoping to cut through his serious vibe because it didn’t sit real well that my son worried about me at all, but especially not feeling it this deeply.

It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew this when he set his little man jaw and turned his eyes angrily to the TV.

“You wanna look after me,” I surmised gently.

He tightened his arms on his chest.

Okay, I had to do something.

But God, what I had to do was lie to my kid.

“I’ll be happy someday, Ethan.” There was the lie. Then I gave him a kind of truth. “You’re right, you’re gettin’ older and I should let go a bit and take some time seein’ to me. I’ll do that, promise.” When he didn’t look to me, I prompted, “Yeah?”

It took him a second, but eyes still to the TV, he grunted, “Yeah.”

“I just love you a lot, baby,” I whispered and watched his chin wobble before he got control of it. “You’re the best thing I ever did and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

He turned surly eyes to me. “I already won’t.”

“That’s good news,” I muttered.

He pushed it. “And I want you to promise that when I turn twelve, you’ll let me walk home by myself so you or Gram or Vi don’t have to come and get me.”

“How about we talk about that when you’re about to turn twelve,” I suggested. “Deal?”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, looking back at the TV.

I let out a sigh, then made a decision.

“Since we’ve already jumped headfirst into the intense, and you just laid it out to your mom that you’re growin’ up and I need to have a mind to that, there’s somethin’ I gotta talk to you about.”

He couldn’t hide his curiosity when he looked back to me.

“What?” he asked.

“Well…” I didn’t know where to begin.

When I didn’t speak further, my kid looked more curious, so I threw it out there.

“I had a not-so-happy chat with your dad not too long ago.”

Ethan’s eyes got big.

I kept giving it to him.

“I didn’t like what he said a whole lot, so I’m thinkin’ on things with him and Peggy. I know you like to spend time with them, but I’m gonna have to ask that you just talk to them on the phone for a while until your dad and me figure this out.”

“What’d he say?”

Shit.

Here we go.

Okay, he wanted to be grown up? I had to let him.

Starting now.

See? The suckage of my life never ended.

I turned fully to him, lifting a bent leg and putting it up on the couch. “Okay, he said that he and Peggy wanna see you more and that kinda freaked me. But when I told him we’d talk about it after I had some time to think about it, he said other things that weren’t real nice. Peggy wants you livin’ with them full-time, and obviously, I don’t want that. So your dad and me are gonna have to figure out some common ground while Peggy sorts her head out, because she’s not gonna get what she wants.”

There were not many reactions I would have guessed my son would have outside of being pissed this went down.

And I was right.

“Live with them all the time?” he asked, his cheeks getting red and his eyes starting to fire.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I promised firmly. “She just—”

“No, it’s not gonna happen,” he snapped, jumped off the couch and cried, “That’s crazy!”

“Ethan, kid, calm down, honey,” I said gently. “It’s not happening. You’re right. Okay?”

He leaned toward me and yelled, “That’s whacked!”

“Kid—”

He didn’t calm down.

He asked, “So, like, they wanna take me away from you and Gramma and…you?”

“Ethan, it’s not gonna happen,” I assured.

He stared at me.

“Baby, sit down, okay?” I asked gently. “We’re good. This is fine. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want. It’s gonna be okay. I’m just tellin’ my little man what’s been goin’ down. Now I need you to cool it and talk it through with me.”

He drew in a breath so big, his chest puffed up with it.

Then he sat down, eyes to the TV, and I gave him time.

Eventually, he looked at me.

“You know, I like him,” he said. “Dad. He’s okay. He can be funny. She’s, like, a really good cook. Tobias and Mary are all cute and do stupid stuff all the time that’s funny. But he’s, like…not Colt. Especially with Peggy. Do you know what I mean?”