The Lucky One(56)

She shook her head. Part of her wanted to take Ben and simply move away. Relocate to another part of the country and start over. It was easy to fantasize that if she simply had the guts to do it, her troubles would be over. But that wasn’t reality. She had the guts; it was everything else that made the scenario impossible. Even if Nana was healthy enough to handle things on her own—and she wasn’t—Keith would find her no matter where she went. Gramps would insist on it, and the courts, including Judge Clayton, would intervene. Most likely, in her absence, Keith would be awarded sole custody. Keith’s uncle would make sure of it; that had been the implied threat since the divorce, a threat she had to take seriously in this county. Maybe she would have a shot on appeal, but how long would that take? Twelve months? Eighteen months? She wasn’t going to risk losing Ben for even that long. And the last thing she wanted was for Ben to have to spend more time with Keith.

The truth was, Keith didn’t want full custody any more than she wanted him to have it, and over the years, they’d worked out an unspoken solution: Keith would have Ben as infrequently as possible, but enough to keep Gramps happy. It wasn’t fair for either of them to use Ben like a pawn, but what else could she do? She didn’t want to risk losing him. Keith would do what he had to do to keep the money flowing, and Gramps wanted Ben around.

People liked to imagine they were free to choose their own lives, but Beth had learned that choice was sometimes illusory. At least in Hampton, anyway, where the Claytons pretty much ran everything. Gramps was always polite when they bumped into him at the church, and though he’d wanted to buy Nana’s land for years, he hadn’t made things difficult for them. So far. But in the world of black and white, there was no question that the Clayton family, Gramps included, were masters of the gray, and they used their power when it suited them. Each and every one of them had grown up with the idea that they were special—anointed, even—which was why she’d been surprised at how easily Keith had left her house last night.

She was glad that Logan and Zeus had been there. Logan had handled the situation perfectly, and she appreciated the fact that he hadn’t hung around afterward. He’d known she wanted to be alone with Ben and had accepted that as easily as he’d dismissed Keith.

In all things, Logan was calm and steadfast, she reflected. When she talked about Drake, he didn’t turn the conversation to himself or how it made him feel, nor did he offer advice. It was one of the reasons she trusted him and had ended up telling him so much about herself. She’d been a little out of sorts because of Drake’s birthday, but in truth, she had known exactly what she was doing. She’d been the one to ask him to stay in the first place, and she supposed that deep down, she’d wanted to share those parts of herself with him.

“Hey, Mom?”

Beth turned toward Ben. His eye still looked terrible, but she pretended she didn’t notice. “What’s up, sweetie?”

“Do we have any garbage bags? And straws?”

“Of course we do. Why?”

“Thibault said he’d show me how to make a kite and that we could fly it when it was done.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“He said he used to make them when he was a kid and that they fly great.”

She smiled. “Is that all you need? Garbage bags and straws?”

“I already found the fishing line. And the duct tape. They were in Grandpa’s garage.”

From across the yard, she saw Logan heading toward them. Ben noticed him at the same time.

“Hey, Thibault!” he shouted. “Are you ready to build the kite?”

“I was coming to ask if you were ready,” Logan called back.

“Almost. I just have to get the straws and the garbage bags.”

Logan waved in acknowledgment. As he drew nearer, Beth noted the shape of his shoulders, the tight cinch of his waist. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed his body, but today it felt almost as if she were . . . staring. She turned away, laying a hand on Ben’s shoulder, feeling suddenly ridiculous. “The garbage bags are under the sink, and the straws are in the pantry by the cookies. Do you want to get them or should I?”

“I’ll get them,” he said. Then, to Logan: “I’ll be back in a second.”

Logan reached the steps just as Ben disappeared inside.

“Making a kite?” she asked, both surprised and impressed.

“He said he was bored.”

“Do you really know how?”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds. You want to help us?”

“No,” she said. Up close, she noticed the way his sweat made the T-shirt cling to his chest, and she quickly averted her gaze. “I’ll let you two do that. It’s more of a guy project. But I’ll bring the lemonade. And afterwards, if you’re hungry, you’re welcome to stay. Nothing fancy—Ben was in the mood for some hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.”

Logan nodded. “I’d like that.”

Ben came back out the door, bags in one hand and straws in the other. His face, despite the bruises and cockeyed glasses, was animated.

“Got ’em!” he said. “You ready?”

Logan continued to hold Beth’s gaze longer than necessary, and Beth felt her neck flush before she turned away. Logan smiled at Ben.