Mad About You

challenging Bailey with his eyes and his stance. He was apparently unmoved by tears, and unafraid of a reprisal.
    Even as Bailey's mind raced for the appropriate reprimand, he cursed himself. What right did he have to chastise? The boy's words to Ginny were almost identical to the words he'd said to her after the kidnapping. And Bailey had been old enough to know better, not a confused eight-year-old kid.
    Whether by design, Bailey wasn't sure, but Chad had lashed out at the very person who would be the most devoted to him. Like father, like son. He rubbed at the ache forming in his temple, then leveled his gaze on Chad. "This is strange for all of us, but you had no cause to say that."
    Chad shrugged, his eyes remaining passive. "It's a free country, I can say whatever I want."
    Bailey straightened, placing his hands on his hips. "Then I hope you want to say you're sorry."
    His son's chin raised a notch. "And I suppose you're going to make me, Daddy?"
    The taunt stung Bailey, and it took him a few seconds to recover. The boy was as belligerent as he'd been at that age. He took a deep, steadying breath to rein in his anger. "You can be a jerk to me if you need to blow some steam, son, but"—he took a few steps closer to Chad and assumed an authoritative stance of his own—"don't take it out on your mother."
    Chad's eves narrowed. "My mother was Lois Green."
    Bailey remained completely still. "Then consider yourself lucky. Some kids don't have a mother at all, and you've had two."
    The boy jerked his thumb toward Ginny. "I'm not calling her Mom, and I'm not calling you Dad."
    His heart squeezed over yet another intangible loss.
    "That's fine," Ginny injected, her voice much stronger. "Virginia and Bailey will do for now." She looked at Bailey, nodding encouragement.
    "Sure," Bailey said stiffly.
    "And I don't want to be called Junior. A counselor told me I could have my name legally changed to Chad Green."
    Another pause, and he and Ginny shared another glance. The kid sounded like an eight-year-old going on sixteen. Bailey conceded. "Okay, we'll talk about the name change later."
    "So what's this place like, this Columbus, Ohio?" Chad's tone sounded as if he were already decidedly unimpressed with his destination.
    Bailey shrugged, immensely relieved to be on more neutral ground. "It's flat, and big, and busy, not unlike here."
    "A friend of mine used to live there and said he froze his ass off."
    Bailey frowned. "Do you always talk like that?"
    "It's a free country—"
    "I know," Bailey cut in. "But watch your language."
    Chad gave a dismissive wave and turned back to the table. "I changed my mind—I don't want to live with you."
    Bailey tamped down his anger. "You're not going to live with me, you're going to live with Ginny."
    At last he was rewarded with Chad's undivided attention as the boy sorted the words in his head. He snorted. "You mean you guys are divorced?"
    Regret washed over Bailey—he didn't dare look at Ginny because he knew he'd find no remorse there. "That's right."
    The boy threw up his arms in resignation. "Great. How many half and step brothers and sisters do I have?"
    "None," Ginny said.
    "But I have stepparents, right?"
    "No," Bailey said.
    Their son frowned, the wind taken from his sails. "When did you get divorced?"
    Bailey exhaled a long, noisy breath. "A few months after you were kidnapped."
    "No more kid, no more marriage?" Chad hooted. "What was I, an accident or something?" One look at Ginny's face, and his smirk disappeared. "You're kidding—I was an accident?"
    "Unplanned," Ginny said quickly, "but we wanted you very much."
    "Oh, right," Chad declared haughtily. "You were probably glad I was kidnapped! You probably left me alone on purpose!"
    "No," Ginny whispered, shaking her head. "We looked everywhere—"
    "That's enough," Bailey said, his voice low and just short of threatening. He buried his hand in his hair and bit back a curse. "You're my kid all right. I'd have known it if you didn’t look like me because you don't know when to keep your mouth shut."
    "Bailey," Ginny began, but he held his hand up to silence her.
    "From the minute we arrived, you've been nothing but rude, disrespectful, and downright mean."
    "Don't like me, huh?" Chad's voice had lost some of its bravado. "Well, maybe I don't like you either, mister."
    When he noticed moisture gathering around the corners of the boy's dark eyes, Bailey experienced his first glimmer of hope that things might work out