“What happened to your face, son?” Maxwell Black’s Southern drawl stretched out the sentence and sent Jason back to a place he didn’t want to go.

“Think you’re the boss, boy? I own you, boy. Lock, stock, and barrel. You belong to me.”

“I fell down the stairs,” Jason replied lightly, forcing the images back into a small box in the corner of his mind. He pictured himself shutting the lid, inserting the key in the lock, turning it just so.

Max laughed. It was a low, warm chuckle, the kind he probably used when making jokes from the bench, or holding court at neighborhood cocktail parties. Maybe he’d even used it the first time a schoolteacher had hesitantly approached him about Sandy. You know, sir, I’ve been worried about how … accident prone … your daughter Sandy seems to be. And Max had laughed that charming little laugh. Oh, no need to worry about my little girl. Don’t even bother your pretty self. My girl is just fine.

Jason disliked Sandra’s father all over again.

“Well, son, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday afternoon,” Max drawled.

Jason didn’t answer. The silence dragged on. After another moment, Max moved to fill the gap, adding lightly, “So I called to make amends.”

“No need,” Jason assured him. “Returning to Georgia is good enough for me.”

“Now, Jason, seems to me if anyone should be bearing a grudge, I would have the right. You swept my only daughter off her feet, spirited her away to the God-awful North, then didn’t even invite me to the wedding, let alone the birth of my grandbaby That’s no way to treat family, son.”

“You’re right. If I were you, I’d never speak to us again.”

That warm molasses chuckle again. “Fortunately for you, son,” Max continued expansively, “I have determined to take the high ground. This is my only daughter and grandchild we’re talking about here. It would be foolish to let the past stand in the way of our future.”

“I’ll tell you what: When Sandra returns, I’ll give her the message.”

“When?” Max’s voice sharpened. “Don’t you mean if?”

“I mean when,” Jason said firmly.

“Your wife run off with another man, son?”

“That seems to be a popular theory.”

“You couldn’t keep her happy? I’m not pointing fingers, mind you. I raised the girl, single-handedly, after her dear mama passed away. I know how demanding she can be.”

“Sandra is a wonderful wife and devoted mother.”