“Do you think he’s going to cry when we leave?” he asked. Everyone was so unsure.
“No,” Nettie said. “He was crying the other day because he wanted to get down and explore and I wouldn’t let him. He’s occupied with the truck. If you get his toys out he’ll be fine.”
“Did you leave some of them here?” he asked.
“A few that he doesn’t really play with. He doesn’t have much, but the ones he does, I gave to you so he’s got them.”
“Thanks,” he said, moving closer to Nettie.
It didn’t look as if the woman was even upset about this.
“Do you want to hold him before we go?” Jocelyn asked.
“No,” Nettie said. “I’ve spent enough time with him. I need a break. Call if you’ve got questions.”
Damn, that was cold.
They left with Maverick and put the child in the car seat in the back, then climbed in the front and pulled away.
“Are you letting him go back there?”
“Not if I can avoid it,” he said.
She turned to see Maverick just playing with the truck and not even concerned that he was leaving the only home he’d ever known.
“I thought she still wanted to see him.”
“She said she needs a break. She told me this morning. She wasn’t going to say goodbye because she knew she’ll see him again, but this was for the best. I can call with questions.”
“Which you don’t want to do, do you?”
“Not really after that,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m leaving him alone with her either.”
“You’ve got me and your grandmother to watch him at night. My mother offered to take him anytime we need it too, but if your grandmother can’t, I always can.”
“I can’t ask them that,” he said.
“They are offering, Chance. It takes a village. Remember that. Swallow your damn pride.”
“Shhh,” he said. “Don’t swear in front of my son.”
She looked to see if he was serious or not over that statement. The guy who dropped the F-bomb like sprinkles on cupcakes.
He was. Even turned his head to look at his son in the back of the four-door truck to make sure the boy was okay.
Chance might be scared, he might be in over his head, but he was going to be just fine.
31
HE COULD DO THIS
Chance didn’t think he was going to be fine hours later when Maverick’s tears and wails wouldn’t stop.
He’d never been around kids before and not one that wasn’t just screaming in frustration, but actually sobbing in pain.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.
“He might have a bellyache,” she said. Jocelyn was holding his son on her lap on the couch, Maverick’s head on her shoulder as she rubbed his back. “Maybe he ate too much. Nettie said he hadn’t eaten lunch so we tried a bunch of foods to see what he liked.”
