Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (67 page)

There was more to a relationship than just giving one's heart. There was caring and commitment and doing the right thing. There was being a good person. Ethan had all those qualities.

But he didn't love her.

That was why his offer of a practical marriage had hurt her so much. Why she couldn't accept. She loved
him too much to accept a half life, even if it was the right thing to do.

Which left her with a dilemma. What happened now?

As there was no easy answer, she kept walking. When she got close to Denise's house, she saw Ethan's mother sitting on the front porch, obviously watching for her.

“Tyler told me what happened,” the other woman said as Liz approached. “I'm so sorry.”

Liz found herself fighting the need to give in to tears. “Me, too. It's not that I mind Tyler spending more time with his dad…” She had to stop and clear her throat.

“It's that he's rejecting you along the way,” Denise summarized softly, then patted the step. “Come sit down.”

Liz joined her. She felt sick and confused and lost.

Denise moved close and put her arm around her. The gesture was oddly comforting.

“This isn't about you,” Denise began. “I know it feels like it, but it's not. You're a great mom. We can all see that. We don't even have to watch you with Tyler to get it. Just being around him tells us. He's bright and confident and curious. Open and friendly, but with plenty of common sense. He cares about other people. You did that. You raised a great son.”

Liz pressed her lips together and nodded. Her throat was too tight for her to speak.

“He's also still a kid and he has no idea how he's hurting you. He genuinely can't see that.”

“I know,” she whispered, then had to wipe away several tears. “I keep telling myself it's not about me. He's angry about his dad and Ethan is new and exciting.”

“Exactly. If only knowing made it hurt less.”

Liz looked at her and nodded.

“Oh, honey, I wish I could make it better,” Denise told her.

“Thanks.” She swallowed and tried to get the tears under control. “Want to guess Ethan's response?”

Denise sighed. “I do love my son, but he's just a man, so I'm going to guess he was an idiot.”

“He thinks we should get married. That will solve all the problems. Isn't it practical? I'll stay here and he can see Tyler all the time and hey, even help with the girls.”

As soon as she spoke, Liz realized it was probably a mistake. Denise was Ethan's mother. Of course she would take her son's side. No doubt the other woman would enjoy having her grandson around more.

Denise sighed. “Is this where I tell you Ethan takes after his father?”

Liz glanced at her. “You don't think it's a good idea?”

“The words
practical
and
marriage
don't belong in the same conversation. Nothing about marriage is practical. It's wonderful and difficult and amazing and demanding. Besides, no one wants a proposal like that. We want to hear that the man in question is madly in love
with us. We want to be swept away. Not compared to a really good microfiber dust cloth. Attractive and practical. That's going to make your heart beat faster.”

Liz leaned her head against the other woman's shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, wishing she could have known Denise years ago. Maybe if they'd had a chance to form a relationship, things would have been different. She could have come and talked to her and—

Liz straightened, then scrambled to her feet. “You're not surprised he proposed. You know we've been…”
Sleeping
seemed like the wrong word. “Seeing each other?”

Denise laughed. “Yes. It's fairly obvious. Ethan is many things, but subtle isn't one of them. He was furious at first, but now you're getting along. I assumed things were progressing.”

Denise paused. “I wasn't sure at first. I always felt so badly about how you grew up. I could see how difficult it was for you. I have three daughters myself. Yet I couldn't seem to reach out to you. I never knew how or what to say.”

Liz hugged her arms across her chest. “That doesn't matter now.”

“It matters a lot. All your life the people you care about have hurt you. Including Tyler. Now my son proposed in a way designed to make sure you know you're not special to him.” Her voice softened. “For what it's worth, I think he does care about you.”

Liz appreciated the support, but the words didn't change anything. “Caring isn't enough.”

“I know.” Denise looked as if she was going to say more on the subject, then sighed. “Please don't take this wrong, but I think you should let Ethan have Tyler for the rest of the week and through the weekend.”

Liz froze. She eyed the door and wondered if she could go inside and grab her son and get out before Denise stopped her.

“Ethan and Tyler both have an unrealistic view of their relationship,” Denise continued. “I have six kids. I know what it's like and sure, from the outside, it's easy. He doesn't have a clue as to the reality. Tyler doesn't, either. Maybe you should let them find out.”

“I can't,” she breathed.

Denise rose and moved toward her. They stared at each other.

“I give you my word Tyler will be safe. Ethan isn't going to disappear with him. You know that. Let them find out just how boring everyday life can be. Your son loves you. Give him a chance to miss you.”

The words were impossible to hear, but Liz knew they were accurate. Her gut told her this was exactly what had to happen. Not that she could imagine even a day without her son. Although he'd been gone overnight before—to camp, with friends—this was different. This terrified her.

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay. Through the weekend.”

Denise pulled her close. “It will be all right. You'll see.”

“I hope so.”

She hugged the other woman and was held in return. For a second she closed her eyes and absorbed the loving support.

“It's not supposed to be this hard.”

Denise patted her back. “It's not supposed to be a lot of things, but still we get through it. You'll get through this.”

“I know.” She straightened. “I'm going to go home and pack his things. Would you mind calling Ethan and telling him the plan?”

“Not at all. Don't you want Tyler to pack for himself?”

“No. If he's so ready to move out, let's start now.”

Denise touched her arm. “I feel your pain, honey. Hang in there.”

“I will,” Liz promised. After all, she didn't have a choice.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“W
HAT ARE WE GOING TO DO
tonight?” Tyler asked, cutting into his steak. “We could watch a movie.”

Ethan thought about his collection of action movies—most of which were rated R—and knew they would be a bad choice. “We'll check out pay-per-view.”

“Sweet! Mom only lets me watch movies on the weekend.”

Something Ethan hadn't known. “Why?”

“I dunno. She wants me to read and stuff. Play outside. I wish she'd brought my Xbox.”

Ethan had a feeling that there was a specific reason for that. Liz had wanted him to spend as much time with his son as possible.

“How's your steak?” Ethan asked.

“Good.” Tyler glanced at him. “Are you going to cook something else for dinner tomorrow?”

Because this was the second time in four nights he'd barbecued steaks. The other two nights they'd gone out.

Usually Ethan grabbed something on the way home, or his mother dropped off a casserole for him to heat
up in the microwave. Since he'd taken Tyler, she hadn't been anywhere to be seen and neither had his sisters. He'd left messages for all of them and while they'd called back, they'd managed to miss him both at the office and home. He had a feeling they were doing that on purpose.

The catering service he used when he had company was at the hotel for the week. Something about a big corporate retreat.

His cooking skills were limited at best, but there had to be something he could make.

“What would you like?” he asked.

“Lasagna.”

Pasta, meat and sauce. How hard could it be?

“Sure. I'll swing by the grocery store tomorrow and we'll have it tomorrow night.”

“We're out of milk, too, and could we have a different cereal?”

“We'll make a list after dinner.”

“Okay.” Tyler chewed another bite. “I don't have any more clean clothes.”

“What?”

“I have socks and shorts, but no T-shirts or underwear. And I'm supposed to make a poster for camp tomorrow.”

Ethan stared at him. “What kind of poster?”

“Like for a movie. You have poster board, right?”

“Not exactly.” He frowned. Who knew summer camp had homework? “If you have to make a poster, we can't watch a movie.”

“But you said we could.”

“That was before you told me about the poster. School comes first.”

“But this isn't school, it's camp.”

Ethan felt the beginnings of a headache. He was tired. Not because he wasn't sleeping well, but because his mornings were starting earlier. Tyler didn't like getting up and moved at the speed of an exhausted snail. With the extra errands he had to run, there was no time to get to the gym. Now instead of a quiet evening watching a movie, they were going to the office supply store, to buy poster board and markers, then get through making a poster.

“When did you get the assignment about the poster?”

“Monday.”

“And you didn't mention it until now?”

“Mom always asks.”

Of course she did.

“Is there anything for dessert?” Tyler looked expectant.

Ethan held in a groan. “We'll stop on our way back from getting the art supplies.”

“We could bake cookies.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“We're riding bikes on the weekend, right? With Josh?”

Ethan nodded.

“What else are we going to do?”

It was then Ethan realized he'd only ever had his son
four or five hours at a time. Blocks that were easy to fill. Suddenly the weekend seemed like an endless parade of empty hours. They mocked him and made him think he should have opened a bottle of wine with dinner. Or a case.

“We'll have to come up with some ideas,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“We could go hiking. Or out on the lake. Or swimming. Maybe Abby can come with us. She's really cool, for a girl. Or the park…”

Tyler kept talking. A steady buzz of ideas and questions and statements. Ethan watched his son and wondered how on earth Liz had done it by herself. He didn't know that he would have managed, let alone done as good a job. The hell of it was, loving Tyler didn't guarantee getting it right. Having someone like Liz to watch his back would make all the difference.

She hadn't had anyone. Because he'd never bothered to go after her. Hurt pride had kept him from following her. Hurt pride had cost him more than he could ever recover.

* * *

“T
O THE STUPIDITY OF MEN
,” Dakota said, raising a glass. “And my brother, who is their king.”

“To Ethan,” Montana said.

Liz, Nevada and Denise also raised their margaritas and toasted.

After a dinner of delicious Mexican food, Melissa had gone to a friend's house for a sleepover and Abby had danced off to watch the latest Hannah Montana movie out
on DVD. Liz and the Hendrix women were in the backyard, sprawled on lawn chairs, slowly getting drunk.

Word had quickly spread through the family and to Liz's surprise, Ethan's sisters had rallied around her as much as Denise had. They'd been appalled at the proposal, insulted by his refusal to declare his love and disappointed by her physical restraint in not at least throwing something at his head.

“He's having a tough time with Tyler,” Denise informed, leaning back and staring up at the stars. “His phone messages are getting more and more desperate. Apparently he tried to make lasagna.” She giggled. “It didn't go well.”

“Lasagna? That's a lot of work.”

“His first message was something about pasta and sauce and how it wouldn't be that hard. The second one was to ask what a lasagna pan looked like. Then there was something about did he really have to cook the pasta noodles first. The last message said they were eating out.”

Liz tried to laugh with everyone else, but she mostly felt sad. Having Tyler gone was getting harder, not easier.

Dakota turned to her. “He's asking about you. Today he came into my office and wanted to call you. I know he misses you.”

“I hope so.” She desperately wanted to talk to her son, but knew the plan was the best way to go. Ethan would return Tyler to her Sunday night. Then they would talk. The three of them.

In the meantime, she had women she could depend on. Friends, and that felt nice.

It was close to ten when everyone left. She rinsed out the glasses and put them on the counter. Washing could wait until morning. While she was enjoying her pleasant margarita-induced buzz, she didn't think that it was a good match for a soap-slicked glass.

She turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked back into the living room. Abby sat on the bottom stair.

“I thought you were going to bed,” Liz said. “Is everything all right?”

Abby shook her head.

Liz pointed to the sofa. “Want to have a seat?”

“Okay.”

The preteen got up and walked to the sofa. Liz settled next to her, put an arm around her and kissed the top of Abby's head.

“Tell me what's going on,” she coaxed gently. “You feeling all right?”

“I'm okay.” The girl snuggled close. “Don't be mad, but I don't want to go.”

Go? As in… “You don't want to move to San Francisco?”