“Mum says too much pasta makes her fat,” Dan commented.
“Your mother isn’t fat,” Xander said without thinking. “In fact—” he broke off, about to say that her figure was still a knockout.
No, no personal comments. He hauled his thoughts away—memories. Dangerous memories. Irrelevant memories. Totally irrelevant.
He turned his attention back to Dan. The only reason he was within six feet of Laurel at all.
“What would you like to do tomorrow?” he asked him. “Because,” he said, “I’ve got an idea.”
Dan looked immediately interested.
“The hotel I’m staying at has a pool,” Xander told him. “Would you like to try it out?”
Dan’s face lit up. “Can we?” He turned to his mother.
“Why not?” she said lightly. She was using that light voice, Xander had become aware, whenever she got dragged in to the conversation. But he could hear suppressed emotion in it. He didn’t give a damn. Her feelings were of no relevance to him. He just wanted her compliance with his plans for his son. Nothing else.
At least she wasn’t coming up with some asinine objection to going swimming. Unlike the fuss she made over his buying clothes and toys for his son.Six missed birthdays, he thought bitterly. All to make up for—
That she took from her own son—
She’d not just deprived him of his own son; she’d deprived his son of his father. Anger bit in him again. But that anger must never be visible to Dan.
“It will give you practice for the pool at your new school,” he said.
He’d been glad too soon about her not objecting to his plans.
“Ifhe goes there!” Laurel interjected sharply. “It’s not decided—not in the least!”
Xander, teeth gritting, ignored her, focussed only on Dan. “We can go and check out the school sometime, see whether you like it. I think you will. Anyway,” he said, not wanting a debate starting that he could do without, “tomorrow, the hotel pool. Shall we go for it?”
“Yes, please!” said Dan.
“Great,” said Xander.
He didn’t bother to wait for any comment from Laurel and got to his feet. “Shall we watch the rest of that film from yesterday?” he asked Dan.
“Yes, please!” said Dan to that too, and stood up, shooting into the sitting room. As Xander followed him, Laurel’s voice stayed him.
“Tonight, before you leave this evening, I need to talk to you.” Her voice sounded stiff, and he turned.
“What about?” he asked curtly.
“I’ll tell you when I talk to you.”
He gave an irritated sigh, wanting whatever she had to say over and done with. He wasn’t interested anyway. If she had any more objections to raise, he’d cut them down. “Let me fix the film for Dan first.”
He did so, with a tinge of guilt that Dan would enjoy it more than he would. Laurel’s dry warning from the night before replayed in his head. He was back moments later, leaving Dan cross-legged and fully engaged with all the multifarious cartoon characters again. He pulled the door half shut, wondering what Laurel wanted. Not caring overmuch.
Back in the kitchen she was starting to wash up at the sink.
“Thereisa dishwasher,” he said caustically.
“Not worth it for so little,” she replied. She drew a breath, abandoning the dishes. She seemed to be steeling herself. He watched her with a sardonic expression on his face. “I need to understand,” she started, eyeballing him, “just how much time you intend to spend with Dan. You’ll be coming and going, back and forth from Greece, I get that, and I understand, right now, over the holidays, you’ll want to see a lot of him, but what happens afterwards? I have to manage his expectations. How often will he get to see you?”
Xander could see tension in her face. It irritated him, yet he could also see why she was asking. Managing Dan’s expectations was, indeed, crucial. But it was impossible to give her a definitive answer just now.
He said as much.
