Linden Estates
Santa Rosa County, Florida
Taylor Donahue hated waiting. She was convinced her mother-in-law knew that and made her wait on purpose. Maybe the woman wasn’t that calculating. Maybe Taylor needed to cut her some slack. But then Dora walked into the room carrying a tray, what looked like tea for two.
What the hell? This was supposed to be a quick stop to pick up her son. But tea? A tall pitcher of it, filled to the brim. Ice tinkling against the sides. Two glasses. Only two. Not three. So, Will wouldn’t be joining them for this little refreshment. Taylor wondered if his grandmother had even told him she was here.
Taylor immediately felt her spine straighten, her muscles tense. What in the world did Dora think they needed to talk about now? Talk? Chat? They weren’t friends. Hardly even friendly. It took every bone in Taylor’s body to be polite to the woman. But she always reminded herself this was Will’s grandmother. Mike’s mother. Michael. Dora insisted her son be addressed by his given name, but she had no problem reducing William to Willie.
Stop it, Taylor, she told herself. It was the holidays. A time for good cheer, right?
Of course, she could take time for a glass a tea. Taylor stopped from licking her lips while thinking vodka would be more appropriate.
She shook away the thought. It’d be fine. Everything was fine. She needed to relax. The first of next year, Will was coming to live with her. That was the important thing. She needed to concentrate on that.
They’d been living apart for much too long, and both mother and son were excited. They were mere weeks away. And in-between was Christmas! Will would be spending Christmas day plus the following three days with her. She didn’t even mind that she couldn’t pick him up until after ten in the morning, because Dora insisted he be there for their family’s traditional Christmas breakfast. Taylor didn’t question or even mind that she hadn’t been included or invited.
No, she needed to stay calm. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
So, stop acting like it.
She quickly admonished her impatience, and at the same time, she prepared for the lecture.
Dora poured as she said, “Willie is gathering his things. I thought it would give us a chance to chat.”
“Is there a problem with the Christmas schedule?” As soon as Taylor said it, she wanted to kick herself. Why invite a problem by suggesting it?
“No, no. Christmas is all set.” She offered Taylor her best fake smile. “I think you know what this is about.”
Her mind reeled. She was careful to never badmouth Dora around Will. In fact, she thought things were going well. Obviously, Dora wasn’t going to give her a hint. “Actually, I don’t know.”
Dora sat back, crossed her legs. The gesture required her to shift in the chair and rearrange her knit top. Her designer clothing didn’t hide the bulge around her middle. Despite being a bit overweight, there was nothing soft about this woman. She conducted herself with a confidence Taylor would never have. It was a confidence born of the entitlement her money brought.
“We’ve always been very clear about Willie needing stability,” Dora began. “Lately, you probably noticed that he’s been lying more and more.”
“Lying?”
“I’d hate to see it become a habit.”
“What exactly has he lied about?”
“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.
Or was that part of the plan? Had it been Dora’s intention the entire time? To wait until the last weeks and throw in a delay?
“What exactly are you saying, Dora?”
Another shrug, like none of this was a big deal. “I think it would be a good idea for you to reevaluate your priorities.”
“You’re demanding I stop seeing Jason.”
“Would it hurt to give Willie your full attention? Or do you really need the sex?”
Taylor blinked. It felt like a slap across the face. She swallowed the first words that came to mind. How could they even be having this conversation?
“Mom, you’re here!”
Will came around a corner. He was stuffing items into his backpack even as he made his way across the room.
Before Taylor could respond to either of them, Dora caught her eyes and added, “Just something to think about. You know, before the end of the year and the next court hearing.”