Corey nodded as he ate a bite of chicken. “I am now.”
I tensed, waiting for the inevitable questions.
“Are you sure football isn’t getting in the way of school?” Mom asked me.
“It’s helped. It’s taught him to manage his time wisely. And if he doesn’t get good grades, he’s not allowed on the team. They have him on a weight and nutrition program. It’s been good for him.”
Mom and Dad fell silent after my speech.
I felt tension coming from Corey. Nothing was more important to him than playing football. It had saved him in more ways than one, and I wouldn’t take him out of it.
“What are you doing now?” Dad asked.
I sighed. They knew I’d opened the garage with Jake, but it wasn’t worthy enough for them, so they refused to acknowledge it. “I opened the garage.”
“Oh, you still doing that?” Dad asked absentmindedly.
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “We opened a business, and we’re all in.”
“What happens when Corey goes back to Texas?” Mom asked.
My stomach was in knots with their hard-hitting questions. I thought it was important for Corey and me to do this meeting by ourselves, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be different if we’d invited Hailey along. She had this way of easing tensions.
“I don’t want to go back,” Corey said.
“A boy belongs with his mother,” Mom said.
“Mom,” I hissed.
“She’s the one who sent me here,” Corey said reasonably.
“Corey’s doing well here, so he’ll stay as long as he’s able.” My jaw tightened. I hoped she hadn’t heard about Tiffany wanting him to go back.
“I heard Tiffany wants him to come home,” Mom said.
I wondered if Tiffany told her parents, and it had already gotten around town. That was the only bad thing about small towns—news didn’t stay quiet for long.
“So she says. We’ll see what happens,” I said tightly. I didn’t want to discuss custody issues in front of Corey if I could help it.
“No judge will let him stay after the trouble he got into a few months ago.”
The trouble with the break-ins and graffiti around town was in the papers.
For a second, the unease slid down my spine. The age-old self-confidence issues I had when I lived here. They said what I wanted to do wasn’t good enough for them. I wasn’t good enough for them. But things were different. I was making a difference in Corey’s life. “I’m a good father. I know you haven’t been around to see me in action, but Corey’s doing just fine.”
Mom sniffed, but thankfully didn’t disagree with me.
She could say whatever she wanted, but she didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. How Corey had blossomed with attention and praise since he came to live with me. My upbringing probably helped me recognize what he needed. Simple things really: time, attention, and love. What any child needed. Corey craved structure, even though Tiffany would argue I should let him be.
I’d followed her advice for long enough. Now I was going on instinct. Done with dinner, I pushed my plate away.
Dad rolled up his cloth napkin and placed it on his plate. “You like cars, Corey?”
Corey nodded.
“Come out to the garage with me. I’ll show you my babies.”
Dad always loved sports cars. I thought I got my interest in mechanics from him, but he couldn’t fix anything. He purely loved the way they looked and how they felt beneath him when he drove.