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fridge has filled up with pictures. I guess that’s okay, a good thing even and he doesn’t do it when it’s ‘our’ time. Like in the morning during our breakfast together, Mallory is sleeping anyway, but also not during the midmorning and midafternoon breaks Morgan makes me take. He brings me a small snack and a fresh cup of coffee in the morning around 9am. We text for a bit, usually about what I’m working on and his plan for the day.
     
    Then during the afternoon break around 3pm he brings me something different each day. Sometimes hot cocoa, other time’s chai tea and other day’s lemonade and a light snack of course. We text about our days and he leaves after 15 minutes. He’s careful never to stay longer. It’s nice that he’s so considerate of my time, but sometimes I want to ask him to stay longer. But I don’t. I’m not sure why exactly. Maybe fear he won’t want to? No… I don’t know. I’m not sure. It’s all jumbled.
     
    My absolute favorite time of day is at night after our showers when he comes to my room and we sit side by side in my queen bed, texting in just our boxers and always with a goodnight hug. Morgan is constantly careful to ask before touching me, never assumes, which I really appreciate.
     
    I think my mom feels like she can leave now, but I know she’s been waiting to talk to me. That’s why I’m not surprised when after dinner Morgan is occupied cleaning up and Mallory getting ready for bed I assume, that mom follows me upstairs into my room. She closes the door behind her.
     
    I sit on the bed and she sits next to me but doesn’t look at me. She understands.
     
    Mom states in a serious voice, “Haden, I think it’s okay for me to leave you in Morgan’s very capable hands now.”
     
    I nod because I agree.
     
    She continues, “he’s had a handle on things from day one really. He’s adhered to every single rule and hasn’t seemed irritated or upset the few times I’ve had to help or correct him. Morgan is really quite desperate to make you happy.”
     
    My face flushes as I stare at my hands.
     
    Mom says hesitantly, obviously uncertain how her next words will be received, “its obvious he cares about you honey…”
     
    I hear the but loud and clear.
     
    She doesn’t disappoint, “…but it’s also obvious how desperate he is to keep this job.”
     
    I know. I’ve thought about this too, so I nod and I think she’s surprised I didn’t freak out because her next words are less carefully articulated.
     
    Mom rushes on anxiously, “I don’t want you to mistake gratitude for love. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know there’s something… something happening between you two. Something romantic?”
     
    Not just blushing now. Now my face is scarlet and I’m praying she’s almost done as I nod once, slowly, hesitantly. I don’t know what’s going on with Morgan and I. It’s new and bizarre and freaking fantastic and I’m afraid it is all just gratitude. That’s why I haven’t pushed or sought Morgan out anymore. I want him to get comfortable, be at ease and feel secure. Only then will he be able to trust me with his real self. This is too much to explain to my mother, so I don’t try. Then she’s talking again.
     
    She blurts, “Mallory.”
     
    My eyes flick to hers and away. She knows it for what it is. Telling her to stop. Leave it alone. Go away before I blow. This time she doesn’t stop, leave it alone or go away.
     
    Mom is wringing her hands when she states, “he’s your son Haden. I know… well, I know you hate his mother. You have every right, every right. But he’s an innocent child Haden. He doesn’t understand why his father ignores him and seems to despise him. Morgan is a great role model and enjoys spending time with Mallory, but you’re his father. I don’t know how, but you have to try. You have to try and be his father.”
     
    I blow.
     
    I jump up and send a lamp crashing into the wall. My mom shrieks