Almost Perfect. Сьюзен Мэллери

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