Page 97 of Lance

He eats in silence for a few minutes, every once in a while glancing up at me, like he wants to make sure I’m still there. I keep an eye on the group around James, wondering what the hell is taking the doctor so long.She’s awake, I remind myself.She’s going to befine.

“Lance,” Simon says, and I look down to see him watching me. “Are you going to leaveagain?”

“No, buddy. I’mnot.”

“Ever?”

My stomach twists. “Well, sometimes I have to work. That’s part of being a grown-up. And my job…well, my job is a little different, you know that, right? Sometimes it means I have to leave at night or be gone for a few daysor—”

“I don’t mind,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry I cried yesterday. Don’t send me away,okay?”

I stare down at him. “Simon, why do you think I would send youaway?”

He looks down at the floor. “My mom didn’t like it when I cried. And she sent meaway.”

I hope, in that moment, that I never see Angie again. I don’t think I’d be able to keep from flipping out. And then it hits me—Angie’s mom. I hadn’t thought about Lynn since leaving the bar. I clear mythroat.

“Simon, do you remember yourgrandma?”

He nods, eyes round,silent.

“Do you like spending time withher?”

He shrugs. “She’s okay, I guess. We didn’t see her toomuch.”

I take a deep breath. I have no idea what the right thing to do is. No idea what would be best for this kid. But I figure talking about it can’t hurt. “She wants you to come and live with her. What do you think aboutthat?”

“You don’t want me to live with you?” hewhispers.

“I didn’t say that,” I tell him firmly. “I just want to know whatyouthink. What do you want tohappen?”

“I want to stay with you,” he saysquickly.

“Even if I have to work a lot?” I ask and he nods. “Even if I have to go awaysometimes?”

“So long as you come back,” hesays.

I glance over at James. “Willa probably isn’t going to be able to be your nanny anymore,” I tellhim.

“Because she’shurt?”

“No. She’s going to be okay, Simon. But she might want to go back to school.”And she might not want to talk to me ever again. “Do you still want to live with me if Willa isn’t yournanny?”

In the split second before he answers, I realize that he might say no. His apparent attachment might be more about Willa than about me. “I still want to live with you,” he says, and I’m surprised by the surge ofrelief.

“Well,” I say, smiling down at him. “I guess that’ssettled.”

He slips his hand into mine and I squeeze it, so thankful that he’s here and he’s okay I can’tspeak.

“Lance?”

“Yeah,buddy.”

“Is my mom ever comingback?”

And that’s when I know, completely and totally—Simon is my son and I would do anything for him, give anything, fight for him. Somehow in the few short months he’s been in my life he’s become more important to me than anything else. My career, the band—none of it matches how I feel about thiskid.

I love him. He’s mine. It’s thatsimple.