Here's to Us (Blood Money #2)

Chapter 51 - In Safe Hands

I am still visualizing how this will go in my head a week later, looking for some kind of distractions from Silas Dale.

I cannot get that damned man out of my head. He has come and gone for uncountable times, breaking every rule I have set in the house. He's doing a bang-up job at spoiling my son. This past week, during particularly dull meetings, I've found myself playing a scenario in my head where I tell my son the truth. In a few versions, it goes well. But in some others, well...

And now here I am, floating in the indoor pool, watching my son swim (he calls it Superman Glides. Kids are weird).

Now, even if he takes the truth well, he'll still be drowning me with questions. Silas is a very curious kid. But five tedious days have already passed. He deserves to know.

So, here I am, taking deep breaths, swimming towards him across the pool. He giggles to see me before setting off to the opposite direction. It shouldn't really be hard though. Silas(es) are getting along fine. From what I've seen, my son likes his father. I am assuming that is because his father still hasn't gotten between him and me. Yes, Silas Sr. is respecting my decision. 

Although I really don't want to be involved with him anymore, I am still very sure he'll try to drag me into something sooner or later and he and I both know, what that's going to lead us to. It's really obvious from the way he looks at me whenever I am before him or maybe passing by. Well, let's see how the kid likes him when he tries to do something about his (one-sided?) desire.

"Mom!" Silas titters when I wrap both arms around his thin torso, scooping him up while he splashes water onto my face.

Setting him down on the edge, I look up, my hands over his dangling legs. He licks the water off his pink lips.

"What do I bake for you today?" I make an 'over-thinking' face to dramatize.

"Silas says you you make 'mean' steaks. You've never made me one," he pouts slightly, before looking up at the sky through the glass dome ceiling. Just as I'm about to say that steaks are not good for him, he adds, "Mom, how can steaks be mean?"

I can't help laughing. "Sometimes, when steaks are really tasty, you call them 'mean', honey." I don't even know how to explain this slang to him. But I am intrigued. "What else does Silas tell you?"

"He tells me about games, books, sketches." He stares back at me, big blue eyes blinking. "He says you two were really good friends."

Friends? That's all you can do, Silas?

"Well, what do you think about him?" I raise my eyebrows, pushing wet sticky curls out of his forehead.

"He's cool. Did you know he has a huge tattoo on his chest, mom? He said he liked a girl from his school. The tattoo is of her eyes."

My hands freeze in mid-air, my smile fading. He remembers. I can't tell if I am happy at this moment.

My voice is small as I let out, "Really?"

"Yes," Silas nods, water hitting my face from his. "He told me that he married her when he grew up... Mom?"

"Yes, baby," I choke out with a painful smile.

"I am the baby. Then, why are you crying?"

I must have been too much wrapped up with thoughts for which I didn't realize I have been crying. When I say nothing, he pats my cheek gently. "You're a good baby."

Well, if I'm going to bring it up, I'll have to do it now or forever hold my peace.

"Silas." My tone is casual. "Do you remember when I told you I was looking for your dad and you told me to tell you when I find him?"