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“What would that look like?”
Kelsey considered, trying to frame the complexity of their situation in terms a seven-year-old could grasp. “We tell him that sometimes grown-ups get married quickly when they care about each other, like we do. That we were already friends who liked spending time together, and now we’re a family. Also that being a family helped us to be allowed to see him again. For us to stay together.”
Mac looked up at her, surprise turning into a smile at her words. He turned his face from hers for a moment to take a sip of his coffee.
“And what about his uncle and grandmother?”
“We will likely have to improvise a bit there; I’m not sure what they’ve told him. But we can start with the fact that they made a mistake, thought I wasn’t taking good care of him, but the judge fixed it.” She sighed. “We keep it simple, but true. And we give him plenty of space to ask questions, to express his feelings.”
Mac appeared to absorb this, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. “I’ll follow your lead on that. We’re already friends, Noah and I. I’d like to build on that foundation.”
“He likes you,” Kelsey agreed. She felt a small easing of the tension in her shoulders. “He talks about you all the time, your beach walks, the things you teach him.”
A small smile touched Mac’s lips. “He’s a great kid.”
“He is.” Kelsey was warmed by Mac’s genuine affection for her son.
“What about the adoption?” Mac asked after a moment. “You mentioned he might want it, but how do we approach that subject?”
Kelsey settled onto the small sofa in the corner. Mac followed, sitting at the opposite end, giving her space while remaining connected. Another thing she was learning about him: how he seemed to intuit what she needed. A contrast to the gruff persona he shared with the outside world.
“Same approach,” she said. “Slowly, with frankness. That if he wants, I’d like you to adopt him, which means legally becoming his dad. And remember, the most important thing is that we don’t push.”
“I wouldn’t,” Mac assured her. “This has to be his choice.”
The words settled an uncertainty in Kelsey’s chest. Mac understood that Noah’s feelings mattered, that they couldn’t simply reconfigure the boy’s life without his consent, even if it was in his best interest.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Mac tilted his head. “For what?”
“For caring about how Noah feels in all this. For recognizing that he’s not just a legal pawn to be moved around.”
Mac’s expression softened. “Kelsey, I may not have much experience with kids, but I know what it’s like to have decisions made for you. To feel powerless. My father made some decisions for me when I was young I could do nothing about—sending me away to a boarding school. Away from my family and friends, from the island.” He paused, something vulnerable flickering across his features. “I wouldn’t put Noah through that.”
The sincerity in his voice touched her. It gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make this complicated arrangement work.
“We should get ready,” she said finally, glancing at the clock. “Harrison will be meeting us downstairs.”
The hotel restaurant buzzed with early morning business meetings, the clink of silverware against china providing a soothing backdrop as Kelsey stirred her second cup of coffee. Across the table, Harrison arranged documents with methodical precision, his tailored suit and precisely knotted tie projecting exactly the image of legal authority they needed today.
“The sheriff will meet us at the estate at eight thirty,” Harrison reminded, sliding a document across the polished table. “Judge Rivera was quite clear in her order. The Prescotts are to turn over Noah immediately, with all his personal belongings.”
Kelsey scanned the court order, her eyes catching on phrases like immediate return to maternal custody and pending full hearing. The legal jargon blurred together, but the bottom line remained crystal clear: Noah was coming home today.
“They’ve been notified?” Mac asked, his voice steady beside her. He’d dressed in a charcoal suit that made him look every inch the powerful businessman. Kelsey had chosen a navy dress in an effort to appear more confident than she was. A subtle armor against whatever the Prescotts might throw at them.
Harrison nodded. “Their attorneys were informed last night. They’ll have prepared the Prescotts for our arrival.”
“What kind of resistance should we expect?” Mac’s hand found hers under the table, a grounding touch.
“More obfuscation, delay tactics, possibly emotional manipulation.” Harrison’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes hardened. “They may try to upset Noah to make the transition more difficult.”
“And if Jason gets confrontational?” Mac pressed.
Harrison closed his portfolio with a snap. “That’s why we have the sheriff. This isn’t a negotiation; it’s a court order. They comply or face criminal consequences.”
Kelsey took a deep breath, eager to feel her son in her arms again.
