Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(134)
“What?”
Keira nods.
“You didn’t bail him out?”
“Hell no. When the cops called me I agreed with them that our son needed to be taught a lesson.” Ransom looks like he might correct her language, but one lifted eyebrow from his mother shuts the boy up immediately. “He was being stupid and he needed to learn consequences.”
“But a whole night in jail?” Kona asks her, looking up at her surprised face. He knows he has no right to question her decision to leave him in jail overnight, but he’d been there himself at sixteen. He hates to think that his boy had repeated Kona’s behavior.
“Kona, Nashville isn’t New Orleans and yeah, a whole night. He got landed with a priest who was pulled over for DWI. The man quoted scripture to him for sixteen hours straight.”
Keira walks off and Kona watches her, then quickly moves his gaze back to his son when Ransom again lowers his voice. “I went the next day and got my damn money though.”
There’s a small moment of silence, which is immediately broken when a crash sounds from the patio and Leann tells Tristan to check on his little brother.
“You want another Abita?” Ransom asks Kona and he shakes his head, his eyes flicking down to the varsity team t-shirt he wears.
Kona points to the shirt, at the Spartan in the center of Ransom’s chest. “You thinking about college yet? Your mom said you’ve gotten interest.”
“Yeah. LSU and Ole Miss, but I’m not focusing on that.” He silences his phone, moving it to the side to look at Kona. He nods to Tristan who pushes his little brother into the kitchen before returning to his seat. “This one is already signed with CPU for basketball. Point guard.”
“Good job, man.” Kona thinks the boy look like Leann. Same nose, same mouth, but his coloring is different and he wonders if the tattooer stuck around long enough to get Leann to marry him. “Michael your dad?”
“Who?”
Leann clears her throat, glares at Kona as she brings silverware to the table. “No. I married Will Bankston. I don’t think you know him, Kona. He graduated from Tulane.”
“Who’s Michael?” Tristan says again, eyeing his mother.
“Someone you will never meet,” she says, returning to the kitchen.
The doorbell rings and Kona is glad for the distraction, is glad that Tristan jumps from the table to answer it. He wants a minute with his boy, just to talk to him and figures as long as his cousin is around and the manic activity at the lake house continues, he won’t get that minute. Still, Kona likes how easy, how relaxed Ransom is with his cousins, with Keira.
Not liking the silence, Kona folds his hands together, nods again at his son. “So you leaning toward Ole Miss or LSU?”
“I don’t know, man. I still have two more years to think about it. Tennessee might be interested, but I don’t know what Mom wants to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s gotta handle all the shit here first. The estate and everything.”
He’d caught the mention of her stepfather’s estate during her phone call, but assumed that her mother’s financials had been settled. Kona frowns, wondering what that would mean for his son. He wonders how long he’d have him here. “I thought she donated everything.”
“Her mom’s estate, yeah, but she still has to take care of the mess her stepfather left.” Kona frowns, confused. “The * left so much debt when he died and two illegitimate kids, that there is a hold up on his estate. Cora and Steven had a pre-nup, so one down, one to go.” Ransom shrugs, fiddling with the end of a spoon in the center of the table. “We’re stuck here to the end of the summer.”
Kona doesn’t hide his smile, likes that his son mimics him. He’d have him for the summer. He’d have time even with his training and then an idea comes to him and he hopes mentioning it to Ransom doesn’t make him seem like he’s trying to buy him.
“There’s a combine happening in June. It’s at CPU.” Kona shoots for subtly, but he can’t seem to calm the excitement in his chest. He wants the boy to like him. He wants him to have opportunities and even if they didn’t make up for him missing the first fifteen years of his life, it could at least be a start. “I could probably get you in if you’re interested.”
Ransom drops the spoon, sits up straighter. “You serious?”
“My buddy Brian is the assistant coach. He owes me a favor.” Another flippant wave, and Kona looks up, sees Keira watching him, eyes narrowed, curious. “It’ll at least let you know where you are, give you an idea on what you need to work on.”
“Hell yeah.” Keira comes to the table, a large, steaming pot of chili in her hands and Ransom follows Kona, stands to make room for her as she places the dish in the center of the table. His son bites his lip, staring at the chili and then he glances at Kona, as though he’s just realized something. “I’ve been slacking since we’ve been here. The food is too damn good and I…” he stops talking when Tristan returns to the dining room, followed by three teenage girls. They are pretty, well dressed, but have friendly smiles and they greet Leann, linger near the kitchen island. Kona smiles at his son, at the way his gaze shoots immediately to a tiny redhead hanging back from her friends, eyes searching the room, looking shy and uncomfortable.