with a bright smile now that his job was done. “See you guys later. Bye!”
His mom had indeed called, and the next Sunday, we had all gathered at their parent’s house for dinner
I’d had a good time, and it had all felt so normal.
They had welcomed me into their home with warmth and kindness. It was easy to see where both Foster and Carson had received all their good traits. It had tickled me pink to see that neither of them looked like their respective parent.
Mrs. Hayes—please call me Rachel—was a willowy woman with slight, delicate features, but I recognized the strength in her eyes as one I’d seen many times in Carson’s. Mr. Hayes—you can call me Scott—was a large rough-hewn man who practically towered over his son, but it was easy to see where Foster had received his teasing, playful side.
Seeing the four of them together as a family, laughing and having a good time, I started to miss my own family. There had been a time when we had been like that.
I wanted to introduce Carson to my parents with the same pride he had when he’d introduced me to his. I wanted the see the approval in my parent’s eyes when they looked at Carson, much in the way Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had looked at me.
Neil had taken so much from me, and it didn’t feel right that I was continuing to let him keep me from my family.
I wanted them back.
Chapter Fourteen
Carson
Something was eating away at my little darling.
I propped myself against the back of the couch and watched him. He was sitting on the floor at the coffee table, the coloring book in front of him practically forgotten. He was staring at his crayons intently, idly rolling them across the table. He’d pick up one and color in a section of his drawing, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
He hadn’t been the same after dinner with my parents. I knew they hadn’t said anything mean to him. They had liked him, even blatantly telling me so.
“Carson, I like him,” my mom had said when she’d cornered me in the kitchen.
And I hadn’t missed the little moment when dad had snuck Miller one of his prized butterscotch candies with a wink.
Whatever it was, I knew it was my job as his Daddy to help him work through it.
I rounded the couch and took the seat directly behind him, trapping him between my legs. He leaned back against me, his head resting on my thigh as I played with the curls over his ear.
“Talk to me, Miller,” I said, knowing he was nowhere close to being little Emmie. “What’s bothering you? You’ve been preoccupied lately.”
He sighed, grabbing one of the crayons from the table. Picking at the label, he shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about getting in touch with my parents again.” The label started coming off in a long strip as he pulled at it.
“I see.” After spending time with my family, he had begun to miss his, but my boy was scared too, scared of rejection and lingering resentment.
“Do you want to do it together?” I asked, wondering if having me there for support would help.
He took a second and then nodded. “Can we do it now? I keep chickening out and—” He stilled, and I knew he regretted his words. He scrambled from the floor and made a move to retreat, but I grabbed his arm and spun him around. Off balance, he landed awkwardly in my lap.
“It’s okay,” I said, holding him to my chest so he couldn’t get away. “Remember, I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. And just because this isn’t kink related, doesn’t mean you can’t safeword.”
He relaxed, his arms coming up and around me. “I just thought if I told you it would be real, and I couldn’t back out but…”
“But then it became too real?”
Nodding, he wiggled in my lap until he could bury his face under my chin.
“Do you want me to push?” I asked. “Because I can push.”
He lifted his hand without looking up and held his thumb and pointer finger a half an inch apart. “Just a tiny one.”
Not knowing the definition of a tiny push, I reached for my phone.
“Okay, forget about everything you think you should do. Who is the easiest person you could call right now, no questions asked?”
“Memaw,” he said, his voice was small but very sure.