Hold On (The 'Burg #6)(92)

Shit, I’d forgotten he’d said he was going to be here Friday at five thirty to pick up Ethan.

Of course, I’d told him Ethan wouldn’t be here so he shouldn’t bother.

But now Ethan was here, so was I, and so was Merry.

Damn.

Merry started to disengage from me as the room started to get heavy with his pissed off, badass vibe.

Shit and damn.

“Ethan, go to your room,” I ordered swiftly.

“What’s Dad doin’ here?” he asked.

I looked to my son to see him staring confused out the storm door.

“Ethan, kid, go to your room. Please.”

“I told him I didn’t wanna come this weekend.” His voice was pitching higher, almost whiny in a way I never heard anymore unless he was really tired or not feeling good.

He really didn’t want to be with his dad.

And he really wanted to spend time with Merry and me.

“Ethan—”

“Man,” Merry spoke over me, “help your mom out by doin’ what she says, yeah?”

Ethan’s eyes jerked to Merry, he nodded, then looked at me before he dashed toward the hall.

Another boon. Ethan looked up to Merry, so when Merry spoke, he didn’t talk back.

On this thought, I heard the storm door let out its opening whisper and I looked that way to see Merry stalking out of it.

Badass unleashed.

Shit!

I moved to follow him, watching as Trent, nearly halfway up the walk, eyes to feet it weirdly seemed he was dragging, sensed another presence and looked up.

He got one look at Merry and jolted to a stop in a way that would have been funny if I wasn’t worried Merry was about to go apeshit.

I dashed out the door and down the walk, listening to Merry order, “Turn around and go home.”

“Who are you?” Trent asked.

“I’m the man tellin’ you to turn around and go home,” Merry answered.

Trent stared up at him, but when I hit Merry’s side, he tore his eyes away and looked to me.

“Who’s this guy?” he asked, jerking a thumb at Merry.

“Answered that,” Merry bit out, and Trent’s gaze shot back to him. “Now, get in your car and go home.”

“Trent!” Peggy shouted from the car, not opening her window, opening her door. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Ma’am, remain in the car,” Merry ordered loudly.

I watched Peggy register an order that went against what she wanted to do and I saw what she hid barely under the surface.

Apparently, no man but God told Peggy Schott what to do, that “God” being in her head, which meant no man told Peggy Schott what to do.

Instantly, she was visibly ticked.

“Where’s my kid?” Trent asked.

I decided to try to take over. “I told you, Trent, he needs a break from you. And Ethan told you he wasn’t comin’ this weekend. I also confirmed that with you.”

“And Trent told you he was.” Peggy had decided to wade in. She was out of the minivan and hoofing it our way.

I looked to the back to the two car seats her kids were in.

“Mrs. Schott, your children are in your vehicle,” Merry told her, and Peggy’s eyes snapped to him at him using her name.

“You know me?” she asked.

“I know you,” Merry answered, his voice low with more meaning than the possibility that I’d shared who Peggy was.

She made it to Trent and her head tipped to the side as she stared at Merry.

“You were there, at the bar with Cheryl,” she decreed, as if this was news Merry was unaware of.

“I was,” Merry confirmed. “Now, both of you, please return to your vehicle and go home.”

“We’re pickin’ up Ethan,” Peggy declared.

“You’re not,” I declared right back, and Peggy turned her screwed-up eyes to me. “And we’re not doin’ this now. I explained to Trent that Ethan needed some space. I also explained to Trent that while Ethan was gettin’ that, we could sit down and talk about what the future might bring. But that’s not happening now. That’s happening at a time when we’ve all got our shit together and can talk about it rationally. In the meantime, Ethan’s said he doesn’t wanna spend time with you. If you wanna connect with him, talk to him on the phone.”

“Ethan doesn’t get to make those decisions,” Peggy spat. “He’s just a little boy. His father makes those decisions.”

“I’m afraid he doesn’t,” I returned.

“And I’m afraid you’re wrong,” Peggy shot back. “Trent’s his father. He’s got rights.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Merry put in sharply, and Peggy’s eyes sliced to him. “Trent Schott relinquished his rights when his girlfriend told him she was carrying his child and he cleared out after he cleaned her out. In this situation, Trent has no rights. In this situation, Ethan’s mother makes all the decisions about where her son will be and with whom. She’s made her decisions. She’s communicated them repeatedly. Now, I’ll say it again, return to your vehicle and go home.”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Peggy snapped.