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He shot me a look. “They knew his last name. They asked if he was a relative.”
“What did you say?” I held my breath for his answer.
“I told them to fuck off.”
I hung my head. “You get into trouble?”
“The teacher made me go to the support room. I wouldn’t tell them anything.” I made a mental note to call the school in the morning. The counselor knew our situation, but I wanted to keep her apprised of what he was thinking and feeling, so she could help him when I wasn’t there.
“You can’t swear in school. There were other things you could have done.”
He touched his chest. “I was so angry. It just built up.”
“I don’t blame you. We all need practice in reining in our emotions sometimes. And this is an upsetting situation for you.”
“They act like it’s something to talk about. It’s my life.”
“I’m sorry.” My heart pounded in my chest. “Do you think it would help to go to a school where no one knew who your father is?”
“We’d have to move.”
I swallowed. “That’s right.”
“What about baseball?” His voice wavered.
“I’d hate to give it up, but I’d do whatever is best for you. Whatever you want.” Fuck what the counselor said. It couldn’t be better living here where everyone knew his father was no good. They’d think the same thing about him.
“I don’t know. Would we move out of state?”
I cleared my throat, thinking that was likely. We needed to escape the reach of the news story. “We don’t have to figure anything out today.”
“I don’t want to be the kid whose dad’s in jail.”
My stomach sunk. “I don’t want that for you either.”
“I like baseball. I like Hunter.”
“Me too, buddy. Eat something. You’ll feel better.” I had a feeling he probably hadn’t eaten lunch. “I’ll make tacos for dinner.”
It was his favorite, and I wanted him to forget about what happened. As I thawed the meat, I couldn’t help but think it wasn’t going away. Austin would only have more court appearances if he went to trial. Since it affected the community, it would be in the news constantly. There’d be speculation, and it couldn’t help but touch Brody.
Cooking the meat in the pan on the stove, I wondered if I should talk to Austin about it. Ask him to do what was right for his son and not himself. I doubt he’d listen.
“Can I see Dad?”
My shoulders slumped. “If that’s what you want.”
I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to see his father behind bars, in an orange jumpsuit. Nothing good could come from it, but at the end of the day, he was his father.
Brody chewed his lip before finally saying, “I think I do.”
“You need to be prepared for what it’s like.” I’d bailed him out on more than one occasion, but no charges had ever stuck. He’d never been detained for trial. But the judge had declared him a menace to the community because the owner of the juice shop, Remi.
Austin maintained he had nothing to do with that incident, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. I almost wished he’d plead guilty and save Brody and me from a trial. I might have an opportunity if I saw him in person. The question was—would he listen?
I browned the meat, seasoned it, and scooped it into crunchy taco shells. I set out fixings, cheese, tomatoes, and onions, on the table. Brody dug in, seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil.
That was what I was most worried about. How public Austin’s case was. My first instinct was to pack up and leave. I was prepared to do that. The only thing holding me back was the baseball team and Abby and Hunter.
