Page 17 of Mistletoe Dreams
"I can take a lunch break at the diner though. It just opened in town. Maybe you've seen it?"
"Yeah. But I don't want you to have to give up your lunch break and?—"
"I wouldn't be giving it up. I'd still be in uniform, and if any call came in, I'd have to leave immediately, but I stop in there to eat, and I can do that while on duty."
"All right. That sounds fine."
"Does Monday work?"
"It does."
He nodded. "Then we'll plan on it."
Chapter Eight
"Mason, do you want to talk to me about it?"
Ben stood at the sink, washing the supper dishes. It was a day after his son had pulled the fire alarm at the town meeting. Gordon had taken him to the station, but as promised, Noah had declined to press charges, so they hadn't booked him.
But Ben had promised that he would try to take care of the situation at home, and unfortunately, he had no idea how to do that. He wanted to take his handcuffs and handcuff his son to his right hand so they couldn't be out of each other's sight, but he hardly thought that would be an acceptable way to handle the situation for anyone in polite society.
Sometimes he wished he didn't live in polite society.
So he'd talked to Kate Wilson, who was the school counselor, and asked what she suggested.
She'd agreed that sometimes punishment was more effective than trying to talk things out, but she did suggest that he at least try to discuss things with his son. She had said that he might have some issues about the divorce or something else going on in his life. Shehad promised to try to talk to him at school, but she hadn't found anything out earlier in the day, because she had promised to call if she had.
Now that supper was over, during which Mason had not spoken a word, Ben figured the ball was in his court to try to initiate a conversation.
It used to be that he and his son had talked about everything and anything. In fact, when Mason was little, it was all Ben could do to get him to be quiet long enough for him to fall asleep at night.
They had laughed together often, and Ben had thought they'd had a great relationship.
Unfortunately, Peyton's cheating and betrayal had changed the dynamic of their family, and somewhere along the way, he'd lost his boy.
He had tried—they’d gone camping and had taken vacations together, but that had not helped anything. He'd had his son working in the yard with him, and when he'd finally gotten custody, he'd thought that maybe they could reestablish their old rapport. But that was totally gone, and anything that he suggested, Mason shut down.
"I asked you a question, son." He looked at his kid. Mason knew that if an adult asked a question, he was supposed to look them in the eye and give them an answer. He'd learned that from a young age.
"No." Mason didn't bother to look up from where he had a school book sitting on the table. But from where Ben stood, he could see he was just doodling on a piece of scrap paper and not actually doing algebra homework.
Ben wanted to rail at his son, but he made his voice come out modulated. "Is there something I can do to help?"
He didn't know what questions to ask. Didn't know where to put his finger on the problem.
"No. I don'tneed any help."
"Normal people don't pull the fire alarm at community meetings. That seems like a cry for help to me."
"Not me. I just thought it'd be fun." Mason didn't bother to look up, but there seemed to be a little smirk.
The smirk annoyed Ben, but he swallowed it down. He couldn't deal with his son out of anger or annoyance. He had to do it with love. Although sometimes love involved consequences.
Before he could say anything else, his phone rang. He dried his hands off on the dish rag and pulled it out of his pocket. His mother had gone to her ladies' aid society meeting, which was why Mason and he were eating supper by themselves. He was a little concerned that something might've happened and was relieved when a local number came up, but not one he recognized.
He answered. "Hello?"
"Hello, Ben. It's Roland McBride."
