Page 18 of Midnight Creed

“You haven’t noticed? The stories he makes up? It’s gotten worse.”

“He has an overactive imagination.”

Dora raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows, then shrugged and said, “He never used to lie like this.” This time, her eyes stayed on Taylor as if testing her, making sure Taylor knew what she meant. The “used to” referred to before Taylor came back into his life.

“Will is creative. He makes up stories and imaginary characters for his comic books.”

“Yes, his clever little cartoons and doodles.”

Dora confirmed what Taylor already knew. She didn’t appreciate or approve of Will’s creativity. He drew constantly on anything available, but they were hardly doodles. His multi-color illustrations were works of art. Sometimes he told full stories frame by frame. But Dora had made other references that indicated Will’s creative endeavors were a waste of time.

There were previous conversations about getting Will into a sport where he might be able to excel.

“Excel,” not enjoy.

A glance around this living room reinforced what Dora considered appropriate extracurricular activities. On side tables and up the open staircase wall, there were framed photos of her son, Michael—Will’s father—as a boy and teenager in football and baseball uniforms. On top of the fireplace mantle, a small shrine of more photos included trophies. Relegated to a hallway side table were a handful that dared to include the rest of the family members.

Every time Taylor sat down in this room, she was reminded how much her son resembled his father, right down to the left-side cowlick that spiked his hair and the lopsided smile, a curve of the lips. Never any teeth. In fact, a couple of the photos of Mike as a boy could easily be mistaken for Will.

Shortly after his seventh birthday this summer, Will had a growth spurt that suddenly made him tall for his age. But there was more—a rebel spirit, a wit and intelligence that also made him seem older and wiser. He saw things, felt things, intuitively knew things. Taylor figured it was one of the reasons he constantly needed to draw and sketch. His mind and imagination worked in ways she’d never understand. But she wouldn’t change that for anything.

The rebel spirit she did understand. She knew he got that part from her, despite their temporary separation.

“The lies are a problem,” Dora said. “I can’t help thinking it’s his way of trying to get attention.”

“Attention?”

“You promised you wouldn’t lapse back into your...shall we say, slutty habits.”

Taylor immediately felt a flush begin at her neck. She shouldn’t be surprised that Dora’s perfectly lip-sticked mouth could utter that word. What was worse, Dora felt she had the right to use it.

The man who had talked Taylor into giving up temporary custody of her son had also convinced Dora and her husband that Taylor was a slut, who drank too much and slept around. At one time in her life, there was a morsel of truth to that scenario. These days, she worked long hours as a nurse. If allowed, she would spend all her free time with her son. But she wasn’t allowed.

“I’ve been dating the same man for several months.”

“Some would say he’s more a boy than a man. Barely over the drinking age, I believe.”

“Man enough to go to war and have half his arm blown off.”

Dora waved a hand at her. It was a gesture Taylor couldn’t decide was dismissive or a concession. Either way, she seemed to say it didn’t matter.

“Jason Seaver is a good man,” Taylor continued. “He’s strong, smart and brave. He’s an excellent role model for Will.”

“A young boy shouldn’t be exposed to his mother sleeping with a man she’s not married to. It’s just not good for a boy.”

“Will hasn’t been exposed to it. And how would you know about my relationship with Jason? Are you having me followed?”

“You live above Howard Johnson’s Marina. People see him coming and going. Are you saying he never spends the night? Perhaps I see now where Willie gets his lying ways.”

“Jason has never spent the night when I have Will.”

“What about when he comes to live with you full-time? Are you expecting me to believe your behavior will change in several weeks?” Dora took a sip of tea, deliberately stretching out the pause and waiting for a response.

This was ridiculous. Whatever Taylor answered would be used against her.

“When you left Willie with me, you gave me the right to decide what I viewed as right and wrong for him. Until the court decides otherwise, I continue to have that right.”

Taylor stared at her. Could she really insist she stop seeing Jason? He was one of the most decent men she’d ever dated. She had given in to every rule Dora and the court-appointed minions had demanded. But this...this felt like harassment. She was less than a month from regaining custody.