Almost Perfect (7 page)

“Sure.”

Liz thought about the horrible comments, the gross come-ons, the snickers. How someone had spray-painted
whore
on her locker and one of the football players had claimed to have naked pictures of her that were for sale. The drunk carload of guys who had pulled up next to her while she'd been walking home from work late one Saturday night and had said between them they had twenty bucks. That should be enough for all of them to do her.

Pia laughed again. “You probably have to have extra security at your book signings to keep the love-crazed fans away. I think I would have liked being famous. Oh, well. In my next life.”

It was as if they were having completely different conversations, Liz thought, confused by Pia's friendliness and seeming inability to remember the past with accuracy.

“There's a group of us girls who get together,” Pia continued. “Sort of a girls' night out. Or
in,
because we meet at someone's house and drink a lot. It's fun. I think you'd know a few people who come. We'd love to have
you.” She pulled a business card out of her purse and turned it over, then grabbed a pen. “Give me your cell.”

Liz recited the numbers, still feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience.

“It's great you're back,” Pia told her. “Let's go to lunch or something and catch up. And think about that signing.”

The two women parted. Liz continued to walk toward the park by the lake. She was sure she looked completely normal on the outside, while on the inside, she was more than a little confused.

Pia O'Brian friendly? How was that possible? Liz did believe in a person's ability to change, but she wasn't sure she was ready to accept a full-blown miracle.

 

“I'
VE NEVER HEARD OF THE
Fool's Gold Mountaineers,” Tyler told Ethan as they found their seats.

They were both carrying hotdogs and drinks. Ethan kept his eye on the boy to make sure Tyler didn't trip, but the eleven-year-old didn't seem to have any trouble navigating through the sparse crowd. They settled three rows up from the field, about a third of the way from home plate to first base.

“They're a short season A league team,” Ethan said, then tugged on the brim of Tyler's new scarlet baseball cap. “You know what that means?”

“They don't play a long season?” Tyler asked with a grin.

“Very good. You've heard of Triple A and Double A minor league baseball, right?”

The boy took a bite out of his hotdog and nodded.

“This is another kind of minor league team. Their season runs from early June to early September. The opener was last week.”

“You go to a lot of games?”

“I get here when I can.”

“Mom and me went to see the Giants play a few times. That was real fun. There were a lot more people than here.”

“Fool's Gold is a lot smaller than San Francisco.”

Tyler picked up his drink. “Mom takes me to lots of stuff. Museums, which sound really bad, but sometimes are fun. We go to the children's theater and we saw the
Lion King
musical twice.” He swallowed some of his soda. “I'm kinda old for Disney, but it was still pretty sweet.”

Ethan stared at his son and tried not to let himself think about all the years that had been lost. There was no win in that. He told himself to focus on this moment, and let the rest take care of itself.

At least Tyler seemed ready to accept him. Liz hadn't turned her son against him—which he probably should appreciate. Of course if she hadn't kept Tyler from him, it wouldn't be an issue.

“Do you like school?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. I really like math. I'm good at it. Mom says I get that from you.” The boy frowned. “That's so weird. I never knew who she meant when she said that. But now, I'll know she means you.”

Tyler grinned, then took another bite of his hotdog.

“I'm good at sports, too,” he added, when he'd chewed and swallowed. “Mom says she's a klutz.” He hesitated. “That means she's not really coordinated.”

“Thanks.”

Tyler beamed. “I didn't know about you riding bikes and stuff. Now I'm going to ride my bike more.”

“Maybe we can ride together sometime.”

Tyler's eyes widened. “Could we? Sweet! But you'll go really fast and beat me. That's okay. I'll get better as I grow. That's what Mom always tells me. That I'm good now and I'm going to get better.”

That was the pattern, Ethan thought grimly. Whatever they were talking about, Tyler had a story about his mother. A positive, supportive example of what a great mother she'd been. Their closeness was a good thing, or so he tried to convince himself.

“Mom says you build windmills. The kind they use for electricity. Can I come see?”

“Sure. We have a wind farm outside of town. We can go there, and you can see where I build them.”

“They're really big, right?”

“Bigger than you can imagine.”

The game started, distracting Tyler. After they'd stood for the national anthem, they settled back in their seats. Tyler asked about Ethan's family and the construction business. Ethan told a couple stories from when he'd been younger. The afternoon sped by and when the game ended Ethan had the sense that he knew
his son better, along with a certainty that knowing Tyler was going to change his life forever.

They walked back to Liz's old house.

“If the Mountaineers win this season, they don't get to go to the World Series,” Tyler said.

“No, but the good players will be moved up in the league and maybe get to play in the majors.”

“I can hit pretty far,” his son told him. “I don't catch so good.”

“We could practice,” Ethan suggested.

“Yeah?” Tyler grinned. “Mom tries, but she throws like a girl.” His eyes twinkled. “Although I'm not 'posed to say that. She gets mad. One time she told me this whole long story about girls having different hips and how they walk differently and it makes it harder for them to throw like a guy. I sort of understood what she was saying, but then I asked what her hips had to do with her throwing and she got mad.”

Ethan chuckled. “I'm sure she did.”

“Sometimes moms are complicated.”

“It's not just moms. It's all women. Just when you think you've got them figured out, they surprise you.”

Tyler continued to look up at him. The smile faded. “Do you have other kids?”

Ethan felt a tightness in his chest. Without thinking, he put his hand on Tyler's shoulder. “No. I don't.”

“So it's just me?”

Ethan nodded.

“I wouldn't mind a brother, but I sure don't want a sister.”

Liz was sitting on the front porch when they got back to her place. Tyler raced toward her and threw himself in her arms.

“We had the best time,” he said. “The Mountaineers won and the manager got mad at the umpire and got thrown out of the game.”

“That can't be good,” she replied, releasing her son. She looked over his head toward Ethan. “Sounds like everything went well.”

He nodded, determined not to react to her in a T-shirt and shorts. Nothing about the clothes was special—it was the woman inside the clothes that made him take notice.

Her legs were long and toned, the skin smooth. Her bare feet made her look vulnerable. His instinctive reaction was to protect. Then he had to remind himself that Liz was the bad guy here, which made him uncomfortable.

“I'm gonna tell Melissa and Abby about the game,” Tyler announced and ran inside. The screen door slammed behind him.

“I'm glad you had a good time,” she said.

Ethan let his anger take over. “There shouldn't be anything to be glad about. I shouldn't have to get to know my son. I should be a part of his life. You didn't have the right, Liz. You didn't just screw with my life, you screwed with Tyler's.”

She didn't say anything for a long moment, then she
reached behind her and picked up a letter. The envelope was smudged and had the look of paper that had been handled a thousand times. She held it out to him.

He didn't want to take it. Because in that second, looking into her eyes, he knew she'd been telling the truth. That five years ago she
had
tried to tell him about Tyler.

His fingers closed over the envelope. The date on the postmark confirmed her story, as did the handwritten address. The writing wasn't his—he could see that immediately. But it was close enough that someone else could be fooled. After all, it wouldn't have occurred to Liz that someone was trying to mislead her.

He pulled out the single sheet of paper. The message was brutally clear. “I know about the kid you claim is mine. What we had ended years ago. I have my own family now. My own responsibilities. I don't want anything to do with him or you. Stay away from me and from Fool's Gold.”

The letter didn't excuse her running away and not telling him about her pregnancy, but it explained a lot. Suddenly his anger wasn't as hot or bright as it had been. He was the one left feeling played by a woman who had claimed to love him.

Rayanne had known, he thought, shaking his head. She'd known for months, had gone into labor knowing he had another child out there and hadn't said a word. She'd kept the truth to herself, even as she died in his arms.

While theirs might not have been a love match, he'd thought he'd known her. Had understood her. But he'd
been wrong. She hadn't been willing to take a chance that he might want Liz's child more than he wanted hers. He knew Rayanne well enough to believe that.

The deception changed everything, he thought grimly, although he couldn't say how. It wasn't just the act of omission—she'd deliberately lied to Liz. What if Tyler had needed him? Liz would never have contacted him. Not after reading those words.

“I'm sorry,” Liz murmured.

He returned his attention to her, saw the sympathy in her green eyes. “What have you got to be sorry about?”

“You were married to her. She's gone. You can't ask her why she did it or know if she ever regretted what she did.”

He already knew the answer to both. The only real question was how he could have been so wrong about the woman he'd married.

He put the letter back in the envelope and handed both to her. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“I'll remind you of that the next time you're mad at me. I expect that to be in about fifteen seconds.” She gave him a slow smile. “You've become emotionally volatile in my absence. It's a little surprising.”

“Maybe I'm exploring my feminine side.”

“Maybe you need medication.”

He leaned against the railing. “You really did try to tell me about Tyler.”

She nodded.

There were still the first six years of Tyler's life to deal with, but that was for another time. A few words on a page had changed everything.

“Can we start over?” he asked.

Her expression turned wary. “While I appreciate the offer and don't mean to sound ungracious, it's really just a matter of time until you're pissed at me again.”

“Don't you want to take advantage of my good mood?”

She grimaced. “No, thanks.”

“You should. Have dinner with me. We can talk logistics.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I'm not ready to be exposed to the questionable society of this town. Eating out, with you, in a restaurant, isn't my idea of a good time.”

“At my place. Tomorrow night.”

“You cook?”

“I have many talents.”

A light wash of color stained her cheeks. “Yes, well, I have three minors I have to worry about. Melissa is fourteen and plenty old enough to be left on her own, but under the circumstances, I'm not sure I want to leave her in charge. She's had enough responsibility for a while.”

“My mom can come over and watch them.”

Liz winced. “I'm sure she's a lovely woman, but I'm not up to another encounter with the soul that is your mother.”

“Then I'll ask one of my sisters.”

Liz considered that. “If Montana will stay with the
kids, I'll go. I ran into her today and she doesn't hate me. In your family, that's practically a miracle. Of course she doesn't know about Tyler and it's possible finding out will change everything, but a girl can dream.”

“Montana it is,” he agreed. “She'll be here at six tomorrow.”

“How do you know she doesn't have plans?”

“I don't, but she owes me.”

“Typical male.”

He grinned. “Is that a yes?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

She sighed. “Yes.”

 

L
IZ HAD ALMOST TWENTY-FOUR
hours to regret her decision and she did her best to make use of the time.

Dinner with Ethan? What had she been thinking? More alone time so he could yell at her again? Not her smartest move. But now, as she got ready to walk over to his place, she knew she wasn't going to back out. She and Ethan had too much they had to talk about—mostly practicalities when it came to him getting to know Tyler. With a little luck, and proof that she had tried to contact him five years before, they might be able to have a normal, regular conversation. Like adults.

Maybe.

Montana arrived right on time, as bubbly and gushing as she had been the day before.

“I brought books for you to sign,” Ethan's sister
spoke as she entered the house. “Not tonight. I'll just leave them and you can get to them when it's convenient. And Pia told me I'm not supposed to bug you about the book festival, but offering my babysitting services in exchange for you coming to the festival isn't exactly the same as bugging, right?”

Liz couldn't help laughing. “Do you drink a lot of coffee?”

Montana grinned. “I get that question all the time.” She glanced around, as if checking to see if they were alone, then lowered her voice. “I heard about Tyler and that you tried to tell Ethan before. That Rayanne kept it from him. I know we're not supposed to say anything bad about someone who's dead, but I'm not even surprised she did that.”