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Would Grant want shared custody? The thought caused Shari’s stomach to churn. She couldn’t lose her son. He was her entire world.
Her mother, Lisa Coopersmith Drayson, walked into the kitchen but Shari didn’t look up; she was too deep in thought.
“Good morning, baby doll,” her mother said as she bent down and kissed her forehead. “And how’s my grandson this morning?”
“Eating Cocoa Puffs.” Shari glanced up and looked at her mother. Many would say they looked like sisters because they shared the same big, brown eyes and long, dark hair that went past their shoulders. The only difference was that her mother was dressed fashionably in yoga pants and a sports top.
“Is everything okay?” her mother asked. “You look a little out of sorts this morning. Didn’t you sleep well in the guest bedroom?”
“No, I tossed and turned all night,” Shari replied. She couldn’t sleep because she had no idea what Grant intended to do.
“Well, we heard you get in late last night. Andre here was keeping one eye open and one eye closed,” her mother said, ruffling the thick curls on Andre’s head. “Must have been some evening. It’s not like you to stay out so late.”
“It was nice having some male company.”
“That Mr. Robinson is quite an attractive young man,” her mother commented. “And accomplished, too.”
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