Love Will Keep Us - Book 5

Attemped Talks

LENA POV

After the school tour I had dropped the kids off back home to get started on their chores while I ran an errand. I was also eager to hear how Stef's day was but couldn't resist making a stop at the bakery. It was true that Stef and I had stopped by with Corey wanting our son to apologize for what he did. We also had a list of things that Corey would need to do in the next few months, he was suspended from all school actives, from seeing any friends, his door would remain off, and he was grounded until further notice. Yes, had shown remorse big time for his actions, which I was grateful for but Stef was right. I needed to talk to him about his father and sooner rather then later.

Thinking I was going to head to the bakery to talk to Julius, I decide instead to turn my car around and head back home and talk to my son. I can no longer avoid the obvious and I know I had treated him like glass because the older he got the more and more he looked like his father. But his behavior is not excusable and I am hoping in the next few months he would change for the better.

Pulling up to our home, I head to his room yet don't see him. There weren't many places he could be but as I open the back door of our little home, I see him sitting in one of the chairs alone.

"Hey, love, what are you doing out here all by yourself?" I ask as I sit across from him. He looks at me with a sad look on his face as he takes a sip of his tall glass of ice tea.

"I finished my chores, Mama. I promise."

He looks sad and depressed, and my heart breaks into pieces, for this was one of the reasons it was so hard to actually discipline him and be tough with him. This look I knew well from his father even when he was a bit older than Corey is now. We had been best friends first, and spent countless hours together. I swallow hard as I struggle to have this conversation with my son.

"Okay. I believe you. Can I...sit?" I inquire as I watch him nod his head, not looking at me.

I pull a chair out across from where he is sitting and I set my purse down before I speak. "You know, the older you get, the more I see Will," I say softly as he continues to look ahead. "And I think...I think that's why I struggle with disciplining you, and I struggle so much all around. I was wrong, you know."

He fiddles with his fingers as he still refuses to look at me, and I don't blame him. What I said was inexcusable, and I'd be hurt were it ever said to me. I know more than ever I need to deal with this grief and anger I have buried in regards to Will. "I was so very wrong, Corey. You are your own person, and...and your father...ummm, he would be so proud of you. He'd be proud and elated that he had this son standing in front of him, one he could show the ropes of becoming a man, and I just...I have really failed you and your sister, Corey. I really have, and..."

"No, Mama," he surprises me by cutting me off. Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away quickly. "You haven't failed us. You're a really good mom. And you have only done the best you could."

I reach over the table and grab his hand quickly before he can think of pulling away. "I want to ask your forgiveness, baby. Will you forgive me for saying that you'll never be your father? For saying he was rolling over in his grave?"

"Yes, Mama. Sometimes you say things you don't mean, just like Frankie," he looks into my eyes as I squeeze his hand. I get up and walk around the table and motion for him to hug me, and as I hug him, tears roll down my face. "Please don't cry, Mama. I hate it when you cry," he pulls back and looks at me sadly.

"It's okay. I'm just happy and sad all at the same time." I brush his cheek as we sit once more, this time, I'm in front of him as I hold his hands in mine. "And we're trying baby, we really are, Stef and me. She may come across super hard, but she loves you so much. And I know that every boy needs his father, and she'll never take his place. I know that. But we're gonna get you to spend more time with Mike, and it doesn't mean you can live with him. But we get it. We hear you, and we know that you need that in your life. You've got to start thinking, though. You have to think, my love, because when you don't, other people can be hurt, you hear me?"

"I know, Mama."

"And I'm not excusing any of your actions. What you did was very wrong. More then I can ever really express to you and dangerous and not irresponsible. Are you aware of that."

"I am. And I wasn't being smart. I know that. And I'm sorry for what I did. I really am. I never wanted anyone to get hurt Mama."

"I know you didn't baby. But you are to listen and abide by your punishment. You understand?"

"Yes mama. But can I have my door back? Please? It's really hard to live with all of these girls and not have my own space," he looks at me sadly as I nod my head. I know that I haven't spoken to Stef, but to some degree, I feel it will be okay at least I hope for I knew it might not be very wise of me to make this decision without her.

"Okay. Come help me put it back on," I smile as I stand to my feet.

"Ok Mama."

----------------------

STEF POV

"So you're new, huh?" I suddenly hear someone ask as I turn around to see a man around my age smiling. If I was honest he had a rather smug look on his face that irritated me. I knew his type and I knew it well which annoyed me even more.

"Um, yeah. Foster."

"Nice meeting you, Foster. Transfer?"

"Um, yeah. NYPD." I reply as I rearrange my things on the shelf in my locker hoping he gets the hint that I don't want to be bothered by him.

"Wow. Wicked, that must have been tough." He says smiling as I close my locker door looking right at him. "What part?"

"South Bronx."

"Get outta here!" He jokes as I adjust my belt wondering what's so damn funny.

"Get out of where? That's where I worked. At first the Bowery then I transferred up there. That's funny to you?" I scowl as he holds up his hands.

"No. No offense I just didn't picture your type working there, that's all."

"My type? What's that supposed to mean?" I grill now even more annoyed.

"Yes, an attractive, pretty blonde woman like you working in such a rough area. Whewwwwww!" He half whistles as I roll my eyes and begin to walk away from where he is. I have no time to entertain the stereotyping he is currently doing, nor do I feel like pinning him against a locker if he says anything more remotely condescending or rude, but he follows me.

"But I see you have a wedding band on. Husband lets you work as a cop? Does he have any balls left?" He laughs as I turn around looking him dead in the eyes.

"Maybe you should ask him yourself. Mike Foster. He works here too. So you might want to bring up the whole balls discussions with him." Rolling my eyes once again I walk off not realizing what in the fuck I just said. Shit.