Grant hoped that this trip with Maurie to get his son wouldn’t scare her off. But it was probably good for Joy to know that there was someone else in his life. No matter how new things with Maurie were. If he and Maurie continued dating, then Trent would be meeting her eventually. And now it would be sooner than later.
Besides, if Joy met Maurie, then she’d know who Trent was talking about when he returned home. Grant could very well imagine the tirade that Joy would bestow upon him if she learned about Maurie through Trent.
Yes, Grant knew things were moving pretty fast with Maurie, and he justified it with the fact that he’d known her years ago. He’d never connected with someone as quickly as Maurie, and he realized now that maybe their connection hadn’t ever been lost. It had been there the whole time.
As they drove through the winter night, they talked mostly about Trent, but there were patches of silence as well. Comfortable silences. Something that Grant had never had with Joy. If she was quiet, it meant a storm was brewing.
By the time they pulled up to the gated community that housed Joy’s home with Stone, nerves had settled in Grant’s stomach. Although they’d been divorced almost four years, seeing Joy always brought back the hard memories of how controlling Joy was. How she’d treated him. How he’d allowed it.
Joy’s house was lit up, lights spilling from the windows onto the winter lawn. Grant pulled into the driveway and looked over at Maurie. “You don’t have to come in, but I’d like you to.”
“I’ll come in,” Maurie said.
“Thanks,” Grant said. “I’ll probably be telling you that a lot tonight.”
Maurie smiled. “You already have.”
He climbed out of the SUV and opened Maurie’s door, then they walked up to the front door, and Grant knocked. He rarely rang doorbells, since he always wondered if there could be a child sleeping inside a house. Old habit, he supposed.
The door opened seconds later, and Grant looked down to see his son. Trent’s blue eyes and light-brown hair made the kid a mini-me of Grant. Just the sight of his son after so many weeks made Grant’s heart swell.
Trent wrapped his arms about Grant’s legs, and he stooped to hug his son and kiss the top of his head. “Hey, buddy,” he said. “I heard you were sick.”
“Yep,” Trent said.
Grant crouched to meet him at eye level. “What happened?” At this close of inspection, Grant noticed how Trent’s cheeks were pale, and his eyes had a drowsy look.
“It hurts to swallow.” Trent pressed his fingers against his throat. “The doctor said I have a scratched throat.”
“I can tell,” Grant said. “Do you want to come stay with me for a few days?”
Trent nodded, his gaze solemn.
Grant smiled. “Good. My friend Maurie came with me to pick you up.”
Trent looked up at Maurie and gave her a shy smile.
“Hi, Trent,” Maurie said in a soft voice.
“I have a scratched throat,” Trent said.
“Does it hurt?” Maurie asked.
Trent gave another solemn nod, then leaned against Grant. He picked up his son and straightened just as another voice rang out.
“Trent,” Joy said. “I told you not to answer the door.” She strode into the room, wearing a dark-green fitted dress and black stilettos, along with a generous amount of gold jewelry. Joy never did anything by half. She slowed when she saw Grant, and her gaze darted to Maurie. Joy’s brows lifted, and in her pale-blue eyes, Grant could see all the questions she wanted to ask.
“Hi, Joy,” he said. “This is Maurie.”
Joy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit as she gave Maurie another once-over. Then she looked at Trent. “What did I tell you about answering the door, son?” Her tone of voice was both sweet and condescending.
“But it was Daddy,” Trent said.
“It was your father this time, but we never know who might be at the door, remember?”
Trent’s lower lip trembled. “I remember.”
“Hey, buddy,” Grant cut in. “Are you packed up?”
Trent kept his arms looped around Grant’s neck and shrugged. “Mommy said she would pack because my throat is scratched.”
“Strep,” Joy corrected. “You have strep. And remember you can’t share any germs.”
“I remember,” Trent repeated.
Grant spotted Trent’s bag at the side of the entrance, and he bent to pick it up, still holding Trent. “Is this everything?” he asked Joy.
“Why don’t you load him in the car, and then I can give you the instructions.”
“Sure thing,” Grant said.
Maurie walked out with them, and Joy still hadn’t said a word to her. Grant got Trent situated in the SUV, and Maurie climbed into the passenger seat. When Grant shut Trent’s door, he turned to see Joy standing right behind him.
And she didn’t look happy.
Grant shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Who is that woman?” Joy hissed. “Our son is sick. Don’t you think that should take priority over some ... woman?”
Grant exhaled, his breath fogging in the cold night air. “Maurie was with me when you called. You know that Trent is always my priority, and that’s why I’m here, and why you’re going on a retreat, leaving him behind.”
Joy’s eyes widened, and Grant knew she was trying to figure out if he’d insulted her.
A headache had begun behind Grant’s eyes. It had probably started the moment he’d talked to Joy on the phone earlier, but now it was stronger.
He reached for the driver’s side door handle. “I’ll text you updates.”
“Wait.” Joy sighed. “He needs the antibiotic twice a day. Keep it in the refrigerator. He’ll be contagious until tomorrow morning, so don’t share glasses with him.” She looked past him as if she could see into the tinted windows in the dark. “Is that woman living with you?”
“No, and her name is Maurie, not that woman.”
Joy puffed out a breath through her red-lined lips. “The bacteria of strep can keep living after twenty-four hours, so be sure to soak his toothbrush in hydrogen peroxide just in case. And only give him soft foods that won’t hurt his throat. He can also have children’s ibuprofen, but be sure to follow the dosage chart for his weight.”
Grant nodded. “Got it. Anything else?”
Joy hesitated, and it was clear she had plenty more to say. But she pursed her lips and shook her head. Then she opened Trent’s door. “Bye, sweetie. Daddy will take care of you, and I’ll see you in a few days. Okay?”
Trent said something, but Grant didn’t catch it. Joy shut the door, straightened, and stared at Grant for a moment. He waited for her next onslaught of words. But she turned and walked toward her house. When the front door shut, Grant released the breath he’d been holding. He climbed into the car.
Music was playing inside the car; Maurie must have turned on the radio. To drown out what Joy had said to him?
He glanced over at her, and she gave him a small smile.
Grant smiled back and reversed out of the driveway.
“You okay, buddy?” he asked Trent.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “Maurie said she’d make me some pudding. Can I have some?”
Grant hid a chuckle. “Sure.” He reached over and grasped Maurie’s hand. She linked their fingers, and it was like a wave of peace washed over him.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Maurie said in a quiet voice a few minutes later.
Before answering, Grant glanced in the rearview mirror to see that Trent had fallen asleep. His heart tugged.
“The drive?” he whispered. “Or my ex-wife?”
“Both.” Maurie squeezed his hand. “Joy seems pretty high maintenance, to say the least. But she loves her kid.”
Grant couldn’t deny it. He just wished she’d be a little less demanding about everything. “She is a good mom,” he admitted. “Just a terrible ex-wife.”
Maurie scoffed. “How are ex-wives supposed to be?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I haven’t heard anyone say how much they love and appreciate their exes.”
“True.”
The miles passed, and finally Grant said, “Do you ever hear from your dad?”
“No,” Maurie said. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive, although I assume he is.” She looked out the window. “My mom wouldn’t ever talk about him, and eventually I stopped asking her questions. It kept the peace between us. Once I decided to stop hoping my dad would show up some day, it became a lot easier.”
“It’s hard to know the reasons a person acts the way they do,” Grant said. “But he missed out.”
She smiled. “Most definitely.” She glanced at the sleeping Trent. “Poor kid. You don’t need to worry about my house for the next few days.”
“I’ll play it by ear,” Grant said. “If he perks up, then he can play with Julie’s kids.”
“Trent’s a lucky kid despite all the heartache that Joy’s caused you,” Maurie said.
“I guess that’s a good way to look at it,” he said, pulling her hand up so that he could kiss the back of her hand. “Although I’m the one who feels lucky right now.”
Maurie didn’t say anything for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting to see you when I returned to Pine Valley. So this is all kind of surreal for me.”
“Tell me about it.” Grant glanced over at her, and their gazes briefly connected. His heart rate increased. Because he knew that he could very well fall in love with this woman. And because he knew he needed to tell her about his role all those years ago.
When they arrived at his place, Grant’s thoughts raced as he wondered what his apartment looked like. He wasn’t in the habit of having company over—at least not female company—but at least it was clean due to the fact that he was hardly ever home.
Grant parked and looked at Trent.
“Still asleep,” Maurie whispered.
“I’ll carry him, if you can get the doors.” He handed her the keys, then he climbed out of the SUV and scooped Trent into his arms. Trent barely stirred and turned his face against Grant’s neck.
Maurie grabbed Trent’s duffle bag, then walked with Grant toward the apartment building. He told her which apartment was his so that she could unlock the door. She opened the door and turned on a single light, which was enough to guide him to Trent’s bedroom.
Maurie turned down the Incredibles bedding, then she slid off Trent’s slippers before Grant pulled the covers over him.
They left the bedroom quietly, and Grant positioned the door ajar.
Maurie handed over the duffle bag, and Grant carried it into the kitchen. He flipped on lights and set the bag on the table. Inside, he found the antibiotic to be refrigerated, and a bottle of children’s ibuprofen.
Maurie leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him. “Do you own or rent this place?”
“Rent,” Grant said, shutting the fridge door. He gazed about the kitchen, seeing it as she must see it. Cheap countertops, scuffed kitchen table, plain gray linoleum, cupboards that could use some sanding and new stain. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Maurie tilted her head, and a smile crept into her green eyes. “You do?”
“I do.” He walked toward her, and she watched him approach, unmoving.
“So you can read my mind now?” she teased.
He stopped close to her, not touching her yet. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to read a woman’s mind, but I might come close.”
Maurie laughed. “Then what am I thinking right now?”
“You’re wondering why I live in such a cheap apartment when I’m a carpenter by trade,” he said.
“It’s probably the philosophy of someone who cleans houses all day for a living, and the last thing she wants to do is clean her own house when she gets home at night.”
“That’s a good analogy,” Grant said, resting his hands on her hips.
Maurie put her hands on his biceps. “But that wasn’t what I was thinking.”
“Should I keep guessing?” Grant asked, leaning closer. “Or will you tell me?”
Maurie slid her hands up his arms and over his shoulders. “I was thinking you should come over here and kiss me.”
“You’re not scared off by my ex-wife and kid?”
She moved her hands behind his neck and tugged him closer. “I think you’re an amazing man, Grant Shelton.”
He smiled. Then he did kiss her.