8. Eight

Eight

Anna

I look in the back seat and see Connor passed out. The only thing keeping him upright is his seatbelt. I turn back to the front with a soft smile on my face.

Carson glances over at me and then looks in the rearview mirror. I see the grin spread across his face as he says in a low voice, "This is the first time today he's been still. I see he finally ran out of steam." I see the fondness for our son in his eyes.

"Yes," I nod, then hesitantly turn toward Carson in my seat. "Thank you for today. Connor really enjoyed himself. The zoo was the perfect outing."

Carson keeps his eyes on the road as he nods in response to my words. "I enjoyed it, too." He admits with a grin. "You've done a good job raising him, Anna. It shows."

A wide smile blooms on my face because I know that was hard for him to admit. "Thank you. I like to think so." As I turn forward in my seat, I continue. "When do you want us to move in?"

His eyes quickly slant my way, "That depends on how quickly you can settle things in Orlando. I'm not sure what transferring his school records involves…"

"We just had them transferred to Orlando, so I can request they forward them on. I can contact the school district tomorrow and start the process. His grades shouldn't suffer if he misses a few more days. He's a good student."

"And your place in Orlando?"

I sigh with frustration, "Well, I'm on a temporary month-to-month lease because the sale of the house I wanted fell through. Everything that could have gone wrong did. Most of our possessions are still in moving boxes."

"Why don't you just have the moving company pick everything up and have it delivered here."

I consider his suggestion, "That's not a bad idea. I had ordered some basic furniture, but the delivery was delayed. I should be able to cancel the order." I turn back to him, "I'll do that. I'll call them as well and ask if they can deliver our boxes to your place."

I take a deep breath, willing the nervous flutter in my stomach to calm. "Carson, since I'm staying," I begin, my voice firm. The words "not that I had much choice" flicker through my mind, but I bite them back. A smile, more hopeful than genuine, stretches across my face. "If we want Connor to feel secure, you'll have to stop treating me like the enemy."

I glance at him to see his jaw tight, and his eyes narrowed on the road. He doesn't even glance my way. But at least he appears to be mulling things over. I give him that time. The ride to his apartment stretches on, the silence tense.

Once Carson pulls into the parking garage, Connor blinks, then rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "We're home?"

"Yeah, Buddy," Carson says with a smile and a look in the rearview mirror.

The elevator ride is mostly silent as Connor isn't fully awake yet. But the moment we step into the apartment, he looks around and declares, "When's dinner?"

I give a light laugh, "I'm not sure what your dad has on hand. I'll do some grocery shopping tomorrow, though."

We both turn and look at Carson, who seems at a loss, "There are plenty of restaurants around..."

I gently interject, "We could order a pizza."

Connor's face lights up. "Yeah, pizza would be great. Can we get pepperoni?"

Carson looks at Connor's hopeful eyes, "Sure, why not? Pizza for dinner tonight."

I hide a grin and add, "I like anything. Except anchovies."

Carson grins back. "I'll order two pizzas. One pepperoni and one with meat and vegetables."

He pulls out his phone and calls in the order, "One small pepperoni. No, wait. Make that a medium pepperoni and a large Super Supreme…"

I look at Connor, "Why don't you take a shower while we wait for the pizza?"

Connor mumbles an agreement and heads down the hallway.

A few minutes later, Carson and Connor both join me at the table, looking freshly showered, hair damp but combed.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings, and Carson gets the pizza and brings it to the table.

"Connor quickly grabs a slice of gooey cheese and pepperoni and takes a huge bite. "I love pizza," he says with his mouth half full. I give him a warning look, which he ignores with a grin and finishes chewing.

"Sorry," he mumbles before taking another giant bite.

Carson opens the second box, and I take a slice while Carson grabs two slices. The only sounds are the satisfying crunch as we all enjoy the hot, cheesy pizzas in front of us.

Finally, with three slices in his stomach, Connor breaks the silence.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" He asks with wide, expectant eyes as he looks at Carson.

I bite my lips with a grin as I glance down at my plate without lifting my eyes. I feel Carson glance at me for help, but I keep my eyes downcast.

"Um, I'm not sure. I'm still thinking it over." He leans forward and asks Connor, "What do you normally do for fun?"

Connor answers quickly, "I like to ride my bike. Jeff and I used to play basketball, but he's in Lauderdale. I like video games and music. Some movies, but not the boring ones Mom likes to watch. I normally have practice after school." He shrugs.

"What sports are you interested in?" Carson asks, genuinely curious.

Connor's eyes light up, "I like track and basketball mainly. I like to run. I'm fast. That's something I can do by myself. Basketball, I can practice by myself, but it's funner with more people."

"More fun," I automatically correct him.

"Yeah, it's more fun with a team or Jeff…" he looks over at Carson with a bit of longing in his eyes.

Carson immediately says, "I like to play basketball. We can do a little one-on-one tomorrow."

Connor's eyes go wide, and he grins, "Cool." Then he gives a small frown, "Can I meet my grandma?" Suddenly, he looks uncertain.

I quickly glance at Carson, but he must have seen the vulnerability in our son's eyes as he says with utter confidence, "Of course. She'll insist on seeing you." He leans forward as if telling my son a secret. "I selfishly didn't want to share you with my family yet. You can meet her tomorrow."

Connor's cheeks get rosy, and his eyes go wide; he looks down with a sheepish grin, "Yeah, it would be really cool to meet my grandma."

"I'll clear the table; you guys go check out what's streaming on TV."

As I put the dishes in the dishwasher and wrap up any leftovers, I listen to them both discuss the merits of what's available to watch. They have similar tastes, and I shrug, refusing to be offended that they don't like the Hallmark channel or RomComs. It's a male thing. At least I can still read romance books on my e-reader if I'm going to be now surrounded by so much testosterone.

A pang of jealousy shoots through me as I listen to them bond. I quickly tamp it down, reminding myself that this is what's best for Connor. But I still feel the sharp tug in my heart at having to share my son with someone else. Even if that person is his father and has every right to be a part of Connor's life, it still causes an unfamiliar ache.

My hand hesitates as I hit the cycle button on the dishwasher. I hear the chugging of the motor and the swish of the water. My life is changing, morphing into something unfamiliar. The loneliness I've grown accustomed to feels different now, sharper somehow.

I blink away sentimental tears as a part of me wonders, ‘What about me'? I'll be left living a second-hand life with a man who's only interested in having me around for his son. Will it make a difference even if he agrees to call a truce? I doubt it. Carson's been carrying the weight of what he thinks is my betrayal for far too many years.

He thinks it's my fault, and it is. I should have immediately told him I was married and the circumstances of my marriage in name only. But I was too busy wearing rose-colored glasses and falling head over heels in love.

Oh, yes, I fell in love with Carson on that cruise. Why else would I have slept with him? He thinks I betrayed my wedding vows, but I know I didn't. I lift my chin.

I remember the frantic ride to the hospital. Graham was so sick when I arrived. It wasn't until three days later that he was coherent enough to sense that something was off with me.

He was so kind; even as weak as he was, he knew I was hurting.

When he asked me what happened on the cruise, I was hesitant to tell him. I knew he'd insist that I leave him and go after Carson. ‘Follow your heart,' he would have advised me. But I couldn't do that to Graham. He had no one else. No one to care for him. He was so weak those last few years. Ultimately, I had to hire someone to help me lift him, and even then, it was hard. So hard. My heart aches for how the illness devastated his body.

Dear kind-hearted Graham. I blink away my tears. I miss him; he was such a good person. He didn't deserve to die the way he did. Nobody does.

"Mom?" My son's voice stringent voice penetrates the fog of memories.

I look up, startled to see two pairs of eyes looking at me expectantly. I feel the blush as it covers my cheeks, "Sorry, I missed what you said."

My son gets a slight look of concern, "That's okay." He turns toward Carson, "She sometimes misses Graham," he explains with a preteen shrug. Not recognizing the instant tension in the room as Carson's face turns harsh. An unreadable expression crosses his face as his cold eyes meet mine.

Carson abruptly turns away, leaving Connor to ask again. "Do you want to watch Galaxy Quest or Jimungi?"

"Really? You even have to ask?" I say, a teasing note in my voice.

My son heaves a heavy sigh filled with disappointment as he turns around and tells Carson, "I told you she'd pick Galaxy Quest. It's one of her favorites."

I hear Carson say as I step into the living room, "That's fine, we'll watch Jumanji tomorrow." He promises Connor with a wink.

As Carson brings up the movie, Connor looks over a me, "Can we have popcorn?"

"Connor, you just finished dinner. Aren't you still full from the pizza?"

"But Mom, we're watching a movie," he whines as he gives me a look as if I'm depriving him of sustenance. "We always have popcorn when we watch a movie."

I glance at Carson, hoping for backup, but he only lifts his eyebrows and says, "I have microwave popcorn."

"Fine, I'm obviously outnumbered," I mutter as I mock frown and go back into the kitchen. Carson yells, "It's in the cabinet above the refrigerator." I stand, looking up at the cabinet, then I look around for a step stool.

I walk back into the living room, "I can't reach the cabinet, and there's no step stool." I say simply.

Carson's eyes roam over me without comment, and he strides into the kitchen. When I walk in behind him, he's pulled down two boxes of popcorn. "We'll have to find a different place for these."

He opens another tall cabinet and retrieves two bowls from the top shelf that look perfect for popcorn and hands them to me. Before he heads back to the living room, he grabs a cold beer for himself and a root beer for Connor. He places a root beer on the counter for me, then leaves me to fix the popcorn. I give a secret smile. He remembered I like root beer.