So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley, is raising the child of her ex-lover. Now, the boy's father is back, and Miranda fears he returned for the boy.

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I make it through my shift without losing it on any customers or crying like a baby as my imagination works overtime. By the time I drive home, I have practiced what I'm going to say to Waylon about Dougie. My headlights flash over Waylon and Aaron who are sitting on the porch as I pull into my yard.

I can do this, I think as I exit my car and start walking towards the porch. "Hey, guys," I say. "Y'all been sitting out here all night?"

"For a while now," Aaron says, smiling like guy who has no problems and is perpetually high most of the time. "You want a beer?"

I do, boy do I ever want one, but I shake my head no. I have to have a clear head when I talk to Waylon. I look over at Waylon. "Homework all done?"

"Most of it. I still have some stuff for my marine biology class. Mr. Tomlin was pissed off after," he says, then suddenly stops and looks at his feet.

I feel like I'm missing something. "Pissed off after what?"

"Nothing."

"Waylon, was Tomlin the guy in the drive thru line this morning?"

"Yes. He hates me. Has since the first day of class. He just used it as an excuse to be a dick."

I try to swallow the irritation I feel when I think about the sour look on that guys face. "Maybe Mr. Tomlin and I should have a little talk soon."

Waylon holds up his hands. "No! Please don't. That will just make things worse."

"Teachers can be bullies. It's best to address it now."

He winces slightly and then turns to Aaron. The look on Aaron's face tells Waylon he's on his own. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but you sometimes come across like you're going to beat someone up if they don't do what you want them to do. Right, Aaron?" he says, trying to draw Aaron in again.

"That's cause she's bad ass," Aaron says, laughing at his misplaced compliment. "She's the queen of bad ass."

Any other night I could handle Aaron, but tonight is a big no. I stomp my foot and point across to his trailer. "Good night, Aaron. See you later."

'Night, Waylon," he giggles. "Good night, Queen."

I roll my eyes and tap Waylon to go inside. "Aw, we were having a deep conversation, Miranda." Waylon stands there pouting like a little boy as I send his best friend home.

"A well is deep, the ocean is deep. A conversation with a guy who is high as a kite is a waste of time."

He tugs open the door and holds it long enough for me to sneak through. "You're in a bad mood. Did you and the lawman break up?"

I ignore his barbed comment and set my bag down on the table. "Sit down, Waylon, we need to talk."

"I only have Tomlin for one semester. It's no big deal."

I nod, trying to push the lemon faced jerk out of my mind. I just need to come out and tell him about Dougie. I remember when I had to break it to him that his father had chosen to leave him with me. We had no relationship at all. Thinking back, I didn't care if he liked staying with me or not. I do care now. Waylon might not be mine biologically, but he's become mine.

"I'll let it go with Tomlin, but you have to swear that you'll tell me if he keeps on bullying you. Then, and only then will I threaten to beat him up," I throw in that little joke to lighten things up. "Okay?"

Finally, a smile creeps to his face. "Okay."

He reaches for the remote, and I take it out of his hands.

"We need to talk." I set the remote on the coffee table and watch as he frowns.

"We've been talking."

"It's about your dad, Waylon."

His face darkens. His shoulders tighten up and he looks at the floor. "They found his body, didn't they? Was it in the swamp? You and I both told them to look there."

"Waylon, no, no. Nothing like that. Your dad is alive. He called me."

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and I see him looking for missed calls. There won't be any. Dougie wouldn't call his own son. No, he's going to leave it to me to break the news. "Is he okay?"

"Sounded fine. I don't know any more than that. He asked about you. That was the main purpose of the call. Checking on you."

"Where has he been? It's been almost two years. Where was he all this time?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. He didn't tell me that."

Waylon doesn't know whether to cry or laugh. He keeps looking at his phone, probably willing it to ring and be his father on the other end. "Is he going to come see me?"

"I don't know." I hate saying that to him. The boy has been living a nightmare for so long and now I have to watch the agony rekindled by the fact that I don't know if Dougie will even reach out to him. "But, at least, we know he's alive."

"But, where was he? Where has he been all this time, Miranda?" He looks over at me, and I hate what I see in his eyes. He knows that Dougie left by choice. He left us behind because it was convenient.

And, I wonder if that hurts worse than thinking he's dead.