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“Sure.”
“Dylan, stay out here and draw for a little bit, okay?”
Anna and I go inside and out of his earshot. “Seriously, what is going on?” I ask.
“What? I told you. My flight was delayed.”
“That’s really what it takes for you to come see your son?”
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? Does it matter why?” Anna is always able to make herself look good….in her own mind.
“Kind of, Anna. All he’s seen or heard from you over the last few years has been through half-heartedly written postcards.” I’m fuming but trying to control it.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Me too. Raising our son.”
“You’re the one who pushed for full custody, Dean.”
“That’s because I wanted to give him stability. To go to one school and to be around the same friends. With you, he’d be flying all over the world.”
“Would that be so bad? Experiencing culture is good for a kid.”
“He has the rest of his life to travel like that, Anna. In these formative years, he needs routine and consistency.”
“Ugh. That’s so boring.”
“Maybe. But it’s what’s best for him. And the judge agreed with me, remember?”
“Whatever.” She tries to wave me off, but I don’t let her.
“I’m not done here.”
“What else is there to say, Dean? Have I been a bad mom? Maybe. But I’d like a chance to catch up and get to know our teenage son.”
“Okay, go ahead. But what are you going to tell him when you leave in a few hours and disappear for another few years?”
“That I need to travel for work.”
“Oh, you’re working now? Maybe I should take you back to court for some child support then.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, fine. No, I don’t officially have a job. But I started a blog, and that’s going pretty well.”
“Yeah? How much money do you make off of that?”
“Nothing…at least not yet.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” I laugh without mirth. “So, how does Raul afford all of the plane tickets and hotel stays?”
“That’s none of your business.”
I’ve always suspected his income comes from something a little unsavory, and her defensive response confirms that. Certainly, he isn’t just cleaning pools. Our conversation ends after hearing a knock and the door fly open. “Sorry! Flooding forced me to turn back,” Coral explains, as she pulls off her soaking wet coat. She is completely soaked, so I assume that the rain must have started coming down hard and fast again.
I try to warn her about Anna, but she sets eyes on her before I can say anything.
“Whoa! This is a surprise.”
“Coral, you remember Dylan’s mother, Anna. Anna, Coral.” Two sets of eyes narrow and I almost see a dance for superiority begin.
