He crossed to the front door, but it opened before he could knock.
“I saw you drive up,” his mother said with a smile, looking fit in a T-shirt and flared cropped pants. Her feet were bare, her toes painted pink. Although she’d always worn her hair long, a few years ago, she’d cut it off and every time he saw her, it was shorter still. Now it barely came to the bottom of her ears.
“Hey, Mom,” he greeted, bending down and kissing her cheek. “You going to get your head shaved next?”
“If that’s what I want,” she declared, stepping back so he could enter. “I’m working out more and short hair is easier. Today was my yoga class. I seem to be missing the bendy gene. I swear, the positions some of the women get in defy me. I push, but I can’t help thinking that at some point, I’ll simply snap a bone. I’m at that age, you know. Shrinking and brittle.”
“Hardly.”
Denise was in her early fifties and could easily pass for ten years younger. Despite the years she’d been alone, she’d never dated. Intellectually he knew it would be nice for her to find someone. But speaking as the oldest son and the one responsible for her, it wasn’t anything he wanted to deal with. Beating up some old guy for making moves on his mother wasn’t Ethan’s idea of a good time.
“Sweet of you to say so.” She studied him for a second, her dark eyes seeing more than most people’s. “What’s wrong?”
“Maybe I came by just to see you.”
“This time of the morning, midweek? I don’t think so. Besides, I can tell. What is it?”
She moved to the kitchen as she spoke and he followed automatically. Everything big was discussed in the kitchen. All revelations, celebrations, announcements.
She poured them each a cup of coffee, then picked up hers and leaned against the counter.
Her gaze was watchful, her expression neutral. She would wait as long as it took. As a teenager, he hated her patience. It had made him squirm and writhe until he eventually confessed to whatever it was he’d done wrong. Today he was grateful she didn’t try to distract him with small talk.
“I have a son. His name is Tyler and he’s eleven.”
His mother nearly dropped the mug of coffee. She quickly put it on the counter. Color drained from her face. She inhaled a deep breath, then another.
“Liz Sutton is back in town,” he continued. “I noticed her during the race yesterday. I went to see her and she told me.” He shoved both hands into his jeans. “I haven’t seen him, yet. I will later tonight.”
“Liz Sutton? You slept with Liz Sutton?”
“It was a long time ago, Mom.”
“I thought I knew about all your girlfriends. When was this?”
Before he could answer, she frowned. “If he’s eleven, you were in college. When we let you live in that apartment over the garage during the summer when you were home. You had sex above the garage?”
“Mom, that isn’t relevant.”
“I think it is. Very relevant. You promised you wouldn’t. You said no girls. You lied and you got one pregnant.”
“Mom.”
She drew in a breath. “Fine. You’re right. Liz got pregnant and…” Her eyes widened. “I have a grandson. Oh, Ethan. How did this happen?”
“We just talked about the sex thing.”
“No. I mean you having a child all this time. Eleven? You said he was eleven? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know.”
She gasped. “She kept it from you? I can’t believe it. How horrible. We have to do something. Are you sure it’s even yours?”
Her reaction was a little scattered, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t as if he was thinking straight, either.
“I’m not trying to be mean, but are you sure? Eleven years is a long time for her to keep this to herself. And why now? What does she want?”
That was a lot of questions. He went with the easiest one first. “The kid is mine. She wasn’t seeing anyone else.”
“Everyone knew what her mother was and the things I heard about her. More than heard. She would get drunk, stand in the parking lot of the bar and scream.” His mother shook her head. “It was horrible. I always felt so badly for Liz. I used to wonder if I should say something or try to help. I have daughters. I know what it’s like. But then she got pregnant.”
“Mom, you didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“You’re right.” She returned to the table. “I don’t even know what to think.”
“You and me both.”
“Do you think she wants money?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s a successful mystery author. You’ve read her, remember? She’s written five books and they’ve all done well.”
“I guess you’re right.” Denise made a small sound of defeat and collapsed into a chair by the worn table. “You have a son.”
“That’s what she said.” He settled across from his mom. “I can’t get my mind around it all.”
“All this time and she didn’t say a word?” Denise demanded, her strength obviously returning. “What a total bitch. How dare she keep your son, my grandson, from us. From the family. Who does she think she is?”
His mother was nothing if not loyal, he thought, amused by her easily engaged emotions. Then the humor faded as he remembered she was right. Liz had stolen the one thing that couldn’t be recovered: time.
Denise sprang to her feet and paced the length of the kitchen. “Did she even try to get in touch with you? Why now? What’s different?”
“She’s back because of her brother’s kids.” She’d said more, but he hadn’t been paying attention to much beyond how she’d looked in the moonlight. That was the hell of it—he’d been happy to see her. Had wanted to tell her that she’d grown even more beautiful. He’d apologized for how he’d acted. And she’d let him.
“She didn’t come here to tell you about the boy? About Tyler?”
He shook his head. “It’s complicated. She says she tried to tell me when she first found out, but when she came back, I was with someone else.” He wasn’t going to tell his mother he’d been in bed with Pia O’Brian. They’d dated all of two days and honestly, he couldn’t remember ever sleeping with her.
“That’s it?”
“No. She says she came to town five years ago and spoke with Rayanne. She says she told Rayanne about Tyler and that she wanted to talk to me.”
His mother stared at him intently. “And?”
“She claims she got a letter from me, telling her that I didn’t want anything to do with her or Tyler. That she was to stay out of town.”
Denise folded her arms across her chest. “That’s just so typical,” she grumbled. “Make up a stupid story and then expect everyone to accept it without a shred of proof.”
He would agree, except for one thing. “She says she still has the letter. She’s going to have it delivered by tomorrow morning.”
“Do you believe her?
“I don’t know.”
Tears filled his mother’s eyes. She sank back into the chair. “All this time a little boy has been out there, a member of our family, and we never knew. He’s been lost. Desperate. Alone.”
Ethan didn’t think Liz would appreciate Denise’s assessment of the situation, but his mother had always had a way with words.
“He needs us,” she said, touching his arm. “We have to be there for him. Finding out he has a father is going to be huge.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand.
She drew in a breath. “We need a plan. We have to stay calm. You’re meeting them tonight?”
“At six.”
“Good. You should be friendly with Liz. Don’t push her right now. The last thing we want is her running away. I know you’re angry and God knows she deserves it. There’s no excuse for what she’s done. None. It wasn’t as if you would have turned her away. You married Rayanne when she got pregnant, and it’s not like she was a catch.”
“Mom,�
�� he began warningly.
She held up her hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You were doing what you’d been taught—taking responsibility and upholding the family name.” Then she frowned. “Ethan, this is two girls you’ve gotten pregnant. I thought your father had the ‘safe sex’ conversation with you. Did he leave something out?”
Ethan stood and took a step back. “Mom, let’s remember the point of the conversation. Liz and Tyler.”
“Right. I know you’re mad. I’m beyond mad. I just want to squash her like a bug. But we can’t. There are things to be worked out. Besides, Tyler is only a boy. He probably loves his mother. You can’t get between them. So when you meet him tonight, be friendly to her, as well. Once you know what’s going on, then you can come up with a plan.”
Hearing her advice helped him to put things in perspective. His relationship with Tyler was his first priority. Punishing Liz could wait.
“Thanks, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“You’re welcome.” She touched his cheek. “I want to meet him. My grandson.”
“You will.”
“She’s back home now?”
“Yeah.” The house had been old and run-down twelve years ago. Now it was worse.
“This will work out,” she told him. “You’ll see.”
“I know.”
He would make it work out, one way or another. Liz wasn’t going to steal any more time from him.
LIZ AND TYLER SPENT THE morning strolling through town. She’d wanted to familiarize herself with the area, although she quickly found out that she hadn’t forgotten anything about living in Fool’s Gold. While there were new businesses, and an impressive development of golf course homes, the basic grid of the town hadn’t changed at all. If you lived close to the park, you could get anywhere by walking.
A little before twelve, she took Tyler to the Fox and Hound for lunch. She remembered the location being a restaurant while she’d been growing up, although it had been called something else. As they waited for their food, they pored over the visitor brochures she’d picked up on their walk and discussed points of interest they could visit while they were here.
“Do you think my dad will want to take me hiking?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
She knew that Ethan had been injured in college, shortly after she’d left town. Something about a bike crash. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to know the details. From the little she’d seen, he could walk easily enough, so he could probably handle a day hike.
“You said he rode a bike,” Tyler repeated. “He raced?”
“Yes. In high school and college. He had a friend name Josh. Josh had hurt his legs and he rode his bike to get his strength back. Like physical therapy.”
Tyler nodded, his gaze locked on her. “My dad rode with him?”
“They were friends. They were both really good and started racing together. Then your dad got hurt.”
“What happened to Josh?”
Liz pointed to the poster on the wall—the one that showed Josh Golden in racing gear, a helmet under one arm, his free hand holding on to his bike.
“Whoa!” Tyler grinned at her. “My dad knows Josh Golden?”
“I think Josh lives in town.”
“Sweet.”
Lunch arrived. Between bites Tyler peppered her with questions. Some she could answer, some she couldn’t. A few she ducked. By the time they were on their way home, she was exhausted and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.
“How about giving me some time to work?” she asked as they approached the house.
“Okay. I’ll watch a movie.” He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch. “Five more hours.”
She forced a smile. No doubt her son would count down the minutes. While she understood and appreciated his excitement, nothing about this was simple for her. Especially Ethan’s understandable rage and her own growing sense of having screwed up.
But when the self-doubt threatened, she reminded herself that she had come back to tell him about Tyler. Maybe the first effort hadn’t been much, but she’d handled the second one the best she could. She even had proof that Ethan had rejected his son. Proof that might not be real.
What kind of woman kept information of a child from her husband?
In high school, Rayanne had traveled with a pack of mean girls and Liz had been one of their favorite victims. Rayanne, Pia O’Brian and a few others had delighted in making Liz’s life a nightmare. Liz might have been smart and pretty, but she’d been poor, living in a bad part of town and she’d had a reputation.
It didn’t matter that Liz hadn’t dated a single guy until Ethan. Not only had he been her first time, he’d been her first kiss. But as far as everyone in high school was concerned, Liz Sutton had been a piece of ass who put out for anyone who asked. Or paid.
There had been plenty of guys who’d claimed to have done her. She’d heard the bragging, the taunts. No one cared that it wasn’t true. No one questioned the rumors. After all, her mother was a drunk and a whore—why not her?
She shook off the past, knowing it wouldn’t help her now. She had to focus on what was happening today. Wasn’t that enough of a problem?
When they reached the house, Tyler raced into the living room to pick a movie. After searching through the collection in the small bookcase by the window, he chose one and brought it to Liz.
“It’s kind of a girl movie,” he said with a shrug, “but I haven’t seen it.”
Liz glanced at the Hannah Montana title, then ruffled his hair. “Sometimes girls are fun.”
“I guess.”
He would find out about girls being fun soon enough, she thought, watching him bolt upstairs. She’d brought the portable DVD player he used when they traveled, along with headphones. So the house would be quiet. She couldn’t use noise as an excuse not to work.
After booting up her laptop, she did a quick check of e-mail, then opened her Word document. But despite the half-written sentence and the blinking cursor, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Everyone always talked about how great she had it. That being a writer was so wonderful. She could work anywhere, at anytime. Which was, in theory, true. But there was also no one else to do the work when she wasn’t in the mood, or when life interfered, like now. No meeting to take her mind off her swirling thoughts. At this point she would happily return to her waitressing days rather than try to come up with a few good pages. But that wasn’t an option. She could only type and delete until something finally clicked or there was a miracle.
Today the miracle came in the form of someone ringing the doorbell.
Liz saved her pitiful three sentences and got up from the kitchen table. When she opened the front door, she decided miracle wasn’t exactly the right word.
Denise Hendrix, Ethan’s mother, stood on her doorstep. The woman was well dressed, fit, attractive and based on the fire spitting from her eyes, really, really upset.
“May I come in?” Denise asked, pushing past Liz and entering the shabby living room, then facing her. “We’ve never met, but I’m Ethan’s mother.”
“I know who you are.”
“And why I’m here?” Denise demanded.
As questions went, it wasn’t a difficult one. She nodded.
Denise looked around. “Where is he?”
Liz assumed she meant Tyler. “Upstairs, watching a movie.”
Denise’s gaze went to the stairs. Longing darkened her eyes, then faded as the other woman turned back to her. “Probably for the best. You and I need to talk.”
“Ethan spoke to you.” Liz made the words a statement.
“Yes, he did. He told me you’re claiming to have had his child. A child who is now eleven years old. A boy you’ve kept from his entire family.” Denise glared at her. “I told him to be nice and rational. That it would be easier if we all got along.”
“Advice you’re choosing not to take?” Liz asked,
feeling defensive and understanding at the same time. Not exactly a comfortable combination of emotions.
Denise shook her head. “I should, but I can’t. You’ve damaged us all, but your boy most of all.”
Liz grabbed hold of her self-control with both hands. She’d never thought to ask Ethan to keep the information to himself. She didn’t go around talking about her private life with very many people. It didn’t occur to her that he would speak to his mother, and so quickly.
But the Hendrix family had always been close. Something she’d envied when she’d been younger. Now the warm, loving, supportive mother had been replaced by one who perceived one of her own had been wronged.
“I came back to tell Ethan I was pregnant,” Liz countered, knowing there wasn’t actually any point in defending herself, but unable to stop. “I’d been gone about two months. I found him in bed with someone else.”
Denise frowned. “Which I’m sure was very painful, but not an excuse to keep that kind of information from him. He was a father. He had the right to know.”
Liz drew in a breath. “You’re right. He did. Which is why I came back five years ago to tell him. He wasn’t home and I spoke to his wife. I told Rayanne everything and she promised to tell him. Less than two weeks later, I received a letter from Ethan telling me that he wanted nothing to do with me or Tyler. That I should keep away from him and Fool’s Gold. I’m having the letter sent overnight and it will be here tomorrow. I’m happy to give you a copy.”
Liz reached for the door and pulled it open. “So if you’ve only come here to insult me or accuse me of everything from being a whore to tricking your precious son, then I’m done with this conversation.”
“I have a lot more to say.”
“This may be a crappy little house, Denise, but it belongs to my family, not yours. I’m asking you to leave.”
Denise hesitated. She had dark eyes like her son. Like Tyler. Emotions flashed through them.
“He told me about the letter,” Denise said grudgingly. “Ethan may not want to believe Rayanne lied to him, but it sounds exactly like her. If there was a problem she didn’t want to face, she avoided it. You having Ethan’s son would have been a big problem.”
Almost Perfect Page 5
