Savannah’s pulse stuttered, and she barely managed to bite back a gasp. “He’s not going to live with his father.” How had Michael heard about it? She hadn’t even told Nora.
“What are you talking about?” Simon glanced from his grandfather to Savannah. “What’s going on, Aunt Savannah? I thought maybe my dad was dead or in jail. Is he looking for me?”
The hope in his voice broke her heart. She’d assumed his father’s behavior had destroyed Simon’s yearning to know him. “I don’t know where he is, Simon. His attorney has shown up with a custody demand from him. Your uncle Hez and I have retained a family lawyer and don’t intend to let you go. Your mother wanted us to take care of you.”
Michael raised a brow. “You don’t want him? You’re just honoring Jess’s wishes?”
“Of course not! Hez and I love Simon dearly. He belongs with us and we belong with him.” What was she doing answering this obnoxious man? She turned her attention to Simon. “You know we love you, don’t you?”
He gave an uncertain nod, but his attention went back to his grandfather.
Savannah bit her lip. Michael’s influence on the boy wasalready more profound than she’d expected. A couple of hours with Michael and Simon idolized him. How had that happened?
Michael shook his head. “It doesn’t sound like love to me when you hide things from the boy, Savannah. You’re not telling him the truth. I’m sure that attorney you hired has already told you Erik will get custody. The court won’t take into consideration he’s good for nothing and only wants the boy for Jess’s money.”
She winced and her jaw tightened. Simon didn’t need to hear this kind of talk about his father. “We’re determined to find a way to keep Simon with us.” She spotted Hez coming their way, and hope surged through her. He’d know how to refute Michael’s description of the custody case.
Hez’s eyes widened when he spotted Michael. His long legs ate up the distance between them, and he stopped at Michael’s chair. “I think you’re in my chair. I want you to leave my family alone.”
Michael lazily got up but didn’t back away. “I could say the same thing to you, Webster. Simon is my blood. You two are going to let Erik have Simon, but his pawpaw isn’t.”
Savannah locked gazes with Hez, and dread curled in her belly. What did Michael plan to do?
Michael pulled into Erik Andersen’s driveway, parking his truck less than six inches from the rear bumper of Erik’s Mercedes. He didn’t want Erik trying to leave before they were done.
Michael got out and walked to the door of the single-storyhome. Mossy oak trees shaded the house and rustled in the gentle breeze. It was a quiet, peaceful scene.
He rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. Could Erik have tried to flee on foot out the back door? That would be foolish—but then, Erik was a fool. Michael frowned.
Michael rang the bell again, then knocked hard. The door finally opened. Erik stood in the entrance, little lines of annoyance creasing the tan skin around his mouth and blue eyes. He stood a few inches taller than Michael’s five-foot-eleven and still had the broad shoulders and thick blond hair that caught Jess’s eye when she was a student at TGU, but Erik had started to go to seed in the decade since his engagement to Jess ended.
“Hi, Mike. It’s been a long time,” Erik said in a voice that indicated it hadn’t been long enough.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Well, I’m in the middle of grading student projects, so—”
“This is more important.” Michael pushed past the bigger man. Erik tensed for an instant, but he didn’t resist.
Michael walked into Erik’s living room. It had hardwood floors, an antique desk, dark leather furniture, a glass-and-brass coffee table, and framed photos of Erik in front of European landmarks. A bright pink backpack sat on the love seat. Michael picked it up and read the nametag. “Kaitlyn Wilson! Come on out.”
A young woman with mussed hair and round eyes appeared in the hallway on the far side of the living room. She appeared to be in her early twenties—about the same age Jess had been. Disgust roiled in Michael’s stomach. He turned to Erik. “You were grading student projects, right? What grade do you give her?”
Erik’s face reddened and his muscular arms flexed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Figure it out, Professor.” Michael’s voice made the last word an insult. He turned back to Kaitlyn and held out her backpack. “You need to leave, honey.”
Erik reached for the backpack. “I’ll drive her back to campus. I’ll call you to arrange a more reasonable time and place to discuss whatever brought you here.”
Michael took a step toward him. “Call her an Uber. You’re not going anywhere.”
Erik seemed about to object, but he stopped short when he saw Michael’s expression. “Go ahead, Kaitlyn. I’ll pay you back.”
The girl’s gaze darted back and forth between the two men for an instant. Then she hurried forward, grabbed her backpack, and vanished out the door.
Erik crossed his arms. “Okay, Mike. What’s so important?”
“My grandson.”
