Page 120 of Falling Together

“And put on a clean shirt!” I yell after him.

Not that I even had to. The place I’m renting for the next couple of weeks is a shoebox.

“Whatever, Dad.”

I wait until he’s in the bathroom before pulling out my phone and dialing my ex. This is not how I thought I would be spending this day.

No. I planned on waking up next to Georgia, spending the morning in bed making love with her, and then making a simple dinner for the two of us. Maybe some more sex, but not this.

Not radio silence.

Kari doesn’t pick up on the first call, and instead of leaving a voicemail, I hit the call button again.

“Grant, why are you calling me? I’m busy.”

Kari’s voice is annoyed the second she answers the phone.

“It’s Thanksgiving. Luke is supposed to be spending the day with you. What’s the plan?”

“About that…” she starts.

“About what? Luke had a plane ticket booked to come visit you, and he’s here with me on the holiday that he is supposed to be spending with you.”

“Well, Randy wants it to be just the two of us today.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

“No, Kari. Luke is here and he wants to spend the holiday with you. He wants to live in LA with you.”

“It’s one day, Grant. Can’t you keep him?”

This is what I was afraid of. This is why I blew up my entire life in Pinecrest because I was worried Kari would pull shit like this. It’s why I haven’t been able to talk to Georgia.

Every call and text has been ignored.

I get it. I can’t blame her. I told her I wouldn’t leave, and what did I do?

I fucking left.

“I will bring him over tomorrow, but you need to figure out a schedule because Luke is your son too. He wants to be here, and I have a life I need to get back to.”

“Oh, and I don’t?” she snaps. “You’re not the only person who has a kid, Grant.”

“And I took him with me because I love him and so you could live your life. You need to show up for him.”

The shower is still running, so thankfully Luke won’t catch any of this conversation.

“Tomorrow won’t make a big difference. I’ll take him shopping and we can get some stuff for him to decorate his room.”

“And the day after? Him living with you will be an everyday thing,” I clarify.

“Like I don’t know that,” she huffs. “Text me your address and I’ll come get him tomorrow morning. If that works with you and your life.”

She ends the call and I’m seething.

The nerve of her acting like our son is interfering with her life. I try to remember the good mother she used to be—trying really, really hard—but I can’t. Those last few years we were married, it was like she became a different person. Someone I didn’t know. She was too obsessed with her appearance and became completely self-absorbed, and it affected every aspect of our lives. Divorcing her was hard, but I knew Luke and I were better off. When she met her current husband, someone who feeds her need of attention, I knew Luke would be better off living with me too.

The thought of him living with her now makes me angry. I don’t want him to live with her, but according to the court, we have shared custody. I wouldn’t put it past her to use that to get what she wants.