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“It’s okay, Mom. It can’t be that important, or you would have brought it,” Connor says with a maturity that surprises me.
I laugh, a sudden release of tension. “Who can argue with that logic?”
“We’re here. That’s the office.” I point as we exit the car. A surprisingly short while later, after registering him for classes, I give Connor a side hug. I then walk back to the car and leave. The school and the staff seem very top-notch.
A glance at the clock assures me I have enough time to get home before the moving company arrives with our boxes. Carson made arrangements for some of our stuff to go into a storage unit at the apartment complex. He handed me the key this morning. It’s a relief, as there are some boxes that I don’t need on a day-to-day basis. I had the boxes already marked, so all I have to do is direct the movers where to put everything.
Right on time, I hear the doorbell ring.
It’s hours later when a glance at the clock tells me it’s almost time to pick up Connor.
As I leave the apartment, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. I have most of the boxes emptied and put away. The movers took everything else to the storage unit. The only thing left to do is break down the boxes, and Carson said we should put them in storage as well.
I haven’t had time to learn the Jacksonville traffic patterns yet, but I manage to navigate the roads with surprising ease.
A glowing Connor comes running to the car when he leaves the school. “Hey, how was your first day?”
“Fine,” he grins. “I like the teacher; she is nice. I also have a friend. His name is Jeff, like my friend Jeff in Lauderdale.”
“That’s great, Honey.” Connor continues to describe his day as we head toward home. I surprise him with an ice cream stop to celebrate his first day at the new school.
As I drive to the apartment, a lump forms in my throat. Is now the right time to talk to Connor? This is uncharted waters. My heart races as I rehearse the conversation in my head a few times. How will he react? Will he be happy? Upset?
“So, Connor,” I start hesitantly, “I um. I’ve been thinking… I mean… your dad and I…” I trail off, unsure how to proceed.
“Yeah, Mom?” He asks with a frown filled with confusion.
I smile and shake my head, postponing our talk for another time. “Not important. We better get upstairs.”
Later that night, after Connor’s in bed, I tiptoe out of my bedroom and into Carson’s room. I’m naked under my robe. He’s waiting for me in his bed.
After another round of sex, we lay tangled in the sheets. I lean over and trace the black tattoo across the right side of his chest.
“You didn’t have this when we met on the cruise,” I say softly.
He grins, “No, I got this a couple of years later. Do you like it?” He asks lazily.
“Very much, it makes you look like a badass,” I tell him truthfully.
He chuckles as he pulls me on top of him. I lay my head on Carson’s chest and listen to the soft thud of his heart beating. I yawn.
The next thing I know, I hear Connor as he yells, “Mom!... Mom?” He yanks open the door to Carson’s bedroom. He blinks in surprise at seeing me lying in bed with Carson. “There you are.” He approaches the bed and grabs my hand. “Mom, come on, get up, or I’ll be late for school.”
“I’m sorry, Connor. I must have overslept.” I try to act normal, “Get dressed, and I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay, but hurry,” he warns with a small frown.
I get out of bed, slip on my robe, and look down at Carson. He’s sitting up in bed with both hands behind his head, a huge smirk on his face. “I don’t think our son has a problem with you sleeping in here,” he says with a teasing glint in his eye, barely able to contain his mirth.
I roll my eyes at his words, “Yeah, I noticed that.” I lean down to give him a quick kiss, and he grabs me and pulls me back into bed. “Guess this means you’ll be moving in tonight. I’ll make room in the closet,” He says before he kisses me again.
Once I’m back on my feet, he delivers a slap to my ass as I walk away. “No excuses. I’ll expect you in my bed every night,” he says with a sly grin.
Nineteen
Carson
Sunlight streams through the picture window of my office. The view never gets old. I trace the familiar path of the river with my gaze. Its ceaseless flow mirrors the unexpected twists and turns my life has taken. I take a deep, calming breath, watching the gentle waves across the river’s surface, a soothing counterpoint to the strange unease within me.
