Almost Perfect (4 page)

“Unlikely.” She drew in a breath and wished he was next to her so she could hold him tight. Because as soon as she said the words, everything was going to change. She knew that. The truth would change everything and they would never go back.

“I have to talk to you about something,” she said, then added, “It's not bad.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently, trusting her. Because she'd never lied to him, had never let him down. She annoyed him because she was the mom and there were rules, but that was different. Expected.

“You've asked me about your dad a lot,” she began. “And I would never talk about him.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I know.”

“I'm ready to talk about him now.”

Tyler had been leaning back in the kitchen chair. But then he sat up and stretched his arms toward her, his expression expectant. “My dad?”

She nodded. “He's, um, he's a good guy. A contractor. That's someone who builds things, like houses and—”

Tyler sighed heavily. “I know what a contractor is, Mom.”

“Oh. Of course you do. Well, he's a contractor and he also builds windmills. The kind that generate electricity.”

“Wind turbines.”

“What?”

Tyler looked a little smug. “They're called wind turbines.”

“Thank you.” She shifted in her seat, wishing she didn't have to tell him and that everything could stay the same. Only that was selfish. Tyler deserved to know his dad and Ethan…well, he deserved to know his son, too.

“He lives here. In Fool's Gold. You're going to be meeting him tonight.”

Tyler was out of the chair faster than light. He raced toward her, then threw himself at her and held on tight. “I'm meeting my dad? For real?”

“Yes. I saw him last night and he wants to meet you.”

Tyler stared into her eyes. “Tonight?”

“At six.”

An awkward time, she thought. They either had to eat really early or really late. Not that she would be in the mood for food and Tyler would probably be too excited, but the girls needed dinner.

She would make them something at five, she thought absently, pulling the shopping list toward her.

“My dad's coming here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You really saw him and everything?”

She hugged him, wishing she could hold on tight forever. “I did.” She smoothed back his hair, then stared into his dark eyes. “Stuff with grown-ups gets complicated sometimes. I came back to talk to him about you when you were six. He wasn't here. He was away on business. So I told someone else about you and she promised to tell him, only she didn't.”

That much was clear. Ethan had been beyond stunned by the news.

“She lied?” Tyler sounded shocked. He was still young enough that he believed most adults told the truth.

“She kept the truth to herself, which is pretty much the same thing. I thought he didn't want anything to do with us, but I was wrong. He's very excited to see you.”

Tyler's eyes widened with hope. “You think he'll like me?”

“I think he'll adore you.” She touched his cheek. “You look a lot like him. The dark hair and eyes.”

“But I have your smile.”

“Yes, you do and I want it back.” She leaned in and tickled him.

He laughed at that as much as at the familiar and silly joke.

He leaned against her. “I wish I was still in school so I could tell everyone I have a dad, too.”

“You'll tell them in September.”

“Do you think Dad will come live with us in San Francisco?”

If she'd been standing she would have fallen on the spot. “Gee, ah, probably not. Your dad's life is here, in Fool's Gold. He has a big family. I don't know who still lives here. Probably his mom and I would guess a few of his sisters.”

Tyler stared up at her. “There's more?”

There was an entire herd, she thought grimly. Because Ethan's relatives were also Tyler's. The thought made her a little nervous. How could she compete with an entire family? Not that it was a competition, she reminded herself. But still…

“You have two uncles, three aunts, who are triplets by the way, and a grandmother.”

“Cool!”

“I know,” she said with false excitement. “You'll have so much family, you won't know what to do with everyone.”

“Anyone my age?”

“I don't think so. I don't know for sure. You can ask your dad.”

There could be dozens, she reminded herself. Any of his siblings could have married. Ethan might have children from his marriage to Rayanne, although they would be younger.

She shook her head to force out the thought of her encounter with his late wife. There was enough going on without that messing with her mind.

Tyler spun away and pumped his arms. “This is the best, Mom. I have a dad. We're a family.”

They were a lot of things, but Liz didn't think
family
qualified. Not with how much Ethan hated her.

“It's going to be interesting,” she admitted. Perhaps not in a happy way, but that wasn't Tyler's problem.

“May I use the computer so I can send an e-mail to Jason?”

She nodded.

He ran out of the room. Seconds later, she heard the loud thundering of his steps on the old and creaking stairs.

At eleven, life was simple. A new dad was a great thing. There weren't any complications, no ambivalence, no worries about the future. While she couldn't seem to stop thinking about everything that could go wrong.

“Probably the reason I write what I do,” she murmured as she rose and walked to the sink to tackle the morning dishes. Some days murder and mayhem
suited her mood. She would work out her frustrations on a deserving victim, then have her character find justice in the end.

But this wasn't fiction—this was real life. And she had a feeling things weren't going to be tidied up quite so easily for her.

E
THAN DID HIS BEST TO WORK BUT
by ten in the morning he'd given up on the pretense. He wasn't fooling anyone, especially not himself. His sister Nevada had asked him twice if everything was all right. He'd told her that he was fine, but after spending twenty minutes doubling an order for lumber, only to realize it was for a job they'd completed two weeks ago, he knew he had to get out and clear his head.

“I'll be back in an hour,” he yelled over his shoulder as he left the office.

“Don't hurry back,” Nevada muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Normally he would have gone inside and called her on it, but not today. Not when he was still having trouble wrapping his mind around what had happened the night before.

He had a son, he thought, getting in his truck and starting the engine. A child. For eleven years and he'd never once known or imagined or guessed. All because Liz Sutton had kept the truth from him. Deliberately.

The rage that had poured through him the night
before ignited again, burning hot and bright. He forced himself to focus on his driving, to pay attention to little things like stop signs and other traffic, as he steered the truck through town.

Rather than go to his place, he went back to the house where he'd grown up. If anyone could talk him down, it was his mother. Denise Hendrix had raised six kids, surviving the loss of her husband, Ralph, nearly a decade ago. She was the heart of the family, the one everyone turned to when there was a problem. She was rational, thoughtful and would be able to give him a perspective other than his own. Because right now all he wanted was to take his son and bolt.

Not a smart plan, he told himself as he drove through the familiar neighborhood, then turned into the driveway.

He checked the clock on the dashboard of his truck. With all six kids out of the house, his mother had a lot more free time these days. Time she filled with classes and her friends. If he remembered correctly, his mother should be between the gym and whatever lunch date she might have lined up.

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.

 

L
IZ AND
T
YLER 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.