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Before Jamie had died, even though Erin had been of age, he’d refused to allow their son to do something as ‘plebeian’ as attend a playgroup.
The first thing she’d done had been to sign him up.
Just the memory of that small rebellion, however slight, had her lips twitching, then her eyes accidentally caught focus on the new ring which sparkled as she moved her hand—she was preparing dinner for the three of them.
Whatever she’d expected when she’d been marched out of the house barely four hours ago, it hadn’t been to be dragged to a jeweler’s. Especially not one that spoke of such class and wealth, it was like entering a gallery.
But Josh’s guy had treated her like a criminal, a fact she didn’t appreciate and was only grateful that Erin hadn’t been there to see!
He’d already seen his mother being hauled around by his father, the last message she wanted to send was that it was fine for a woman to be treated like that.
There was no way in hell she was passing on that kind of mentality to her son.
His father had four years’, just, of influence on him. She intended to use the rest of his childhood to eradicate anything like that, refused for her son to be anything like his father.
No way. No how.
For a second, she wondered if Frank had beaten Janice. Kids learned from their parents, after all, and that was why she was so scared for Erin.
But Samantha simply couldn’t imagine Janice taking it.
Which sounded unfair.
Many women might think she wasn’t the kind to ‘take’ being hit and abused, but it had happened to her. Still, Janice was… ebullient. If anything, Samantha could imagine her father-in-law being the recipient of slaps and angry shoves.
Maybe that was where Jamie had learned such behavior was right?
She pursed her lips, jerked her attention from the creamy pearl nestled on her finger and the sparkling opals that were like fire on her hand. Stirring the sauce, she called out, “Dinner’s almost ready, boys.”
She purposefully ceased pursing her lips and curved them into a smile—boys. Ha. The last time Joshua Lewis had been called that, she’d bet he’d been fourteen!
“Time to wash up, Josh,” Erin said, his tone serious. “Mommy won’t serve dinner if we’ve got dirty hands.”
Her grin widened as she peeked over her shoulder and saw Erin leading Josh to the downstairs bathroom.
The sight of her son, the older and bigger man’s hand clutched in his, had her licking her lips. It didn’t disturb her. Didn’t upset her. But it did put her nerves on edge.
She hadn’t meant to introduce Josh into Erin’s life. Af
ter Jamie’s passing, either through grief or lack of interest, he’d barely spent any time with her son. If he checked up on them from time to time, outside of her awareness, that wasn’t something she knew about. But dragging Josh into their world… maybe it would have a positive effect on Erin.
Maybe, just maybe, when this was over, and her in-laws had ceased this ridiculousness, Josh could stay a part of Erin’s life?
She couldn’t imagine her son grabbing his father’s hand and tugging him away to the bathroom.
Now she thought about it, she couldn’t remember one instance at all. She’d thought she’d hid the real truth of her relationship, but Erin had always been cautious around Jamie. He’d been all smiles and hugs for her, but he’d been taut and strained with his father.
She bit the inside of her cheeks to quench the emotion her thoughts stirred, but her attention was averted anyway when Josh and Erin returned.
Having served dinner—breaded chicken fillets with mashed potatoes and home-made gravy—she placed the plates on the table, then grabbed her own and took a seat opposite Josh.
The square table didn’t allow for there to be ‘heads’ at the table. They were all just seated around it in a way that felt distinctly, and disconcertingly, cozy.
But she had no right to find this situation cozy. No right at all.
“Do you mind my spending so much time with your mommy, Erin?” Josh asked after he’d taken a few bites and had thanked her and complimented her on the meal.
She almost choked on her own food at the question. Shooting him a glare he ignored, his attention fixed firmly on her son, she kicked out under the table, satisfied when her foot connected with his shin.
