Authors: Susan Mallery
“Not yet. I know what Ethan wants.” Liz said the last sentence defiantly. Because it would be what Denise wanted, too.
“I'm sorry about what happened,” the other woman told her. “That you had to go through having a baby on your own. I remember when I was pregnant with Ethan. I was terrified. You were younger and alone. That couldn't have been easy.”
Liz forced herself to relax. She moved to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, then waited for Denise to do the same before sitting.
“I had a few difficult moments,” she admitted. “Luckily I found a shelter for pregnant girls. It was nice not to be completely by myself. I saw a doctor, got the right kind of food and vitamins.”
“I wish we'd known,” Denise offered. “I wish you'd come to me.”
Liz stared at her. “I appreciate what you're saying but that would never have happened.” It wouldn't have occurred to her. Not ever, but especially not after Ethan had rejected her so publicly.
“I understand. I wish I'd known the two of you were together. Maybe I would have thought to check on you.”
Rather than say something she would regret, Liz pressed her lips together and nodded slightly.
“I knew what they were saying about you, back then,” Denise told her. “I always felt so bad for you. I wish your mother had protected you more.”
“She was the real problem. I wasn't doing those things. I wasn't that girl, but no one cared to look beyond the rumors. Well, except for Ethan and then, not so much.”
Denise frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago.”
“It matters to me.” She leaned toward Liz. “Why did you leave that first time?”
Liz tried to be vague. This was Denise's son, after all. “We had a fight.”
“I don't believe that's the only reason.”
Liz drew in a breath. “You should ask him.”
“I'm asking you.” Denise gave her a faint smile. “Don't make me use my âbad mom' voice. I have six kids and a lot of practice.”
Fine. If the woman wanted to know, Liz would tell her.
“Ethan and I had been going out for two months. He
didn't want anyone to know. Despite how much he said he loved me, I think he was a little embarrassed by my reputation. I was going to join him at college, where no one would know about me. We were going to be together. I loved him. He was my first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first⦔ She cleared her throat. “You know.”
“I can imagine. Then what happened?”
“I was working at the diner. Ethan was in with his friends, like always. I used to think it was so romantic that no one knew. It was our secret.” Knowing Ethan loved her had made her feel special.
“Josh mentioned seeing us together. All Ethan's friends started going after him, wanting to know if he was âdoing me.'” She laced her fingers together, determined to stay in the moment, to not remember too much. “He said he barely knew who I was. That he would never be interested in someone like me.”
Denise flinched. “Oh, Liz. I'm so sorry.”
She shrugged. “I was humiliated and hurt. I could feel my heart breaking. I dumped a milk shake on his head and walked out. That was the last time we spoke. When I found out I was pregnant, I came back to tell him. I found him in bed with another girl.”
“Oh, God.” Denise touched her arm. “That's awful. I don't know what else to say.”
“It's okay.”
“No, it's not. Nothing about the situation is okay.” Denise shook her head. “It's Ralph, and that damned idea of his that we're the Hendrixes. The family that
founded Fool's Gold.” She sounded frustrated. “Reputation is everything. Act right, do right, be right. Emotions be damned.”
Denise sighed. “I loved my husband from the moment I first saw him, but he wasn't easy. And he passed all that righteousness onto Ethan.”
Liz wasn't surprised. “He was the oldest.”
“Exactly.”
“Being with someone like me violated everything his father had ever said. I get it.” Liz spoke as if the words didn't hurt her and hoped the other woman couldn't see the truth.
“For Ralph, the world was black and white. Reality is much more gray. I don't think Ethan was mature enough to see that.”
Denise sounded sincere and conciliatory, which Liz appreciated, but it also made her uncomfortable.
“I'm fine,” she said quickly. “The past is over. Tyler and I have been fine. I've taken good care of him.”
“I don't doubt that,” Denise assured her. “But while you've been busy taking care of your son, who's taken care of you?”
“I don't need anyone to take care of me.”
Denise smiled gently. “Liz, we all need someone. And now you have us. I hope you'll accept me and my children into your family. You're a part of us now.”
It was as if she could hear a door slam somewhere in the distance. No. Not a doorâa gate. Denise was Tyler's grandmother. He had aunts and uncles. However
far she might want to run, she was bound to these people forever, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out if that was a good thing or a bad one.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
L
IZ HAD DONE HER BEST TO
prepare Roy's daughters for the reality of seeing their father in prison, but words couldn't begin to explain the experience. Not only did Melissa and Liz have to leave their cell phones in the car, Abby wasn't allowed to bring gum. She'd had to tell the girls not to wear chambray shirts or jeans because the color was forbidden for visitors. It was what the prisoners wore. They all had to make sure their shirts had sleeves and that they would have to pass through a metal detector before they could see their father.
Their cheerful mood during the drive had faded, the closer they got to the prison, then disappeared when they stopped by the structure. Liz understood completely. There was no way to look at the forbidding building and feel anticipation.
They followed the other visitors to an open patio where Roy hovered. He looked both excited and nervous.
“You came,” he said, when he saw them.
Abby rushed toward him and he embraced her, but Melissa hung back.
“It's all right,” Liz told her.
Melissa shook her head. “It's not,” she whispered. “He's not getting out of here, is he?”
Liz's throat tightened. “It will be a while.”
“How could he do this? How could he leave us?”
Liz didn't know what to say.
“He's still your dad,” she managed to murmur. “He still loves you.”
Melissa swallowed. “Loving us isn't going to be enough.”
She slowly approached her father, then hugged him.
The three of them settled on a picnic table. Liz hung back, wanting to give them private time together. She sat by herself, reading the book she'd brought, trying to ignore the other reunions going on around her. Some groups were happy, but others were quiet, marked with tears and obvious pain.
About an hour later, Roy walked over to sit next to her.
“They told me that you're having the house fixed up,” he relayed, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks for that. I got the paperwork that lawyer sent. I've already signed it and sent it back.”
She nodded. The house was being put into a trust for the girls.
“When it's finished, I'll talk to a real estate agent again and we'll figure out if it's better to sell it now and invest the money or keep it and rent it out.”
Roy nodded. “Do whatever you think is best. You were always the smart one in the family.”
“Either way they'll have money for their future.” They wouldn't need it for college. If either of her nieces wanted to go, Liz would pay for it herself. She thought about saying that but thought Roy might think she was showing off. The situation was awkward enough already.
“I signed that other paper, too,” her brother told her, looking at her for the first time. “The one making you their legal guardian. I told them that they have to do what you said. Mel's mad because you want to move them to San Francisco. I told her it was for the best.”
“I doubt she believed you.”
“She'll get over it. She's just a kid.” He shifted uneasily. “I was thinking you probably shouldn't bring them back to see me again. It's too hard on them.”
Liz had a feeling the person he was most concerned about was himself. “Are you going to write them?”
“Sure. Sure. I sent that one letter.”
“They'll want to hear from you. You're their father.”
“I know. I said I'd write.”
“Okay,” she murmured. “I'll make sure they write you, too, and let you know what's going on with them.”
“Thanks, Liz.”
“Sure.”
He returned to his daughters. A few minutes later, the girls walked over to her.
There were tears in their eyes. Abby tried to smile but failed. Melissa, like her father, wouldn't look at Liz.
“Ready to go?” Liz asked.
Abby nodded.
They returned to the car. The afternoon was warm, the sky a cloudless blue. She cranked up the air conditioning until it blasted them, then headed for the freeway.
“Dad said you were our legal guardian now,” Melissa reported as she stared out the window.
“I am.” Liz clutched the steering wheel. “It's not that he doesn't love you. This just makes things easier. Like if you have to go to the doctor's, I can sign the paperwork.”
“Or make us move,” Melissa said bitterly. “You're not our mom.”
“I'm not trying to be,” Liz explained, refusing to take the attack personally.
“Can't we stay?” Abby asked softly from the back-seat.
“No,” Melissa told her, turning to glare at her. “We can't. Aunt Liz is going to make us move and we can't stop her. If we run away, the police will find us and bring us back. She can do anything she likes. Even dump us in foster care.”
Liz merged onto the freeway. “Melissa, that's enough,” she said sternly. “You can be mad at me if you want, but don't take it out on Abby. No one is going into foster care and you know it. You may not like the idea of moving, but in the few weeks you've known me I've done my best to take care of you.”
“You might be able to make us move, but I'll never forgive you,” Melissa announced. “I'll hate you forever.”
“Something we'll both have to live with,” Liz told her.
She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Abby was crying. Melissa had her head turned away, so Liz wasn't sure how upset she was. Nothing about this situation was easy, she thought sadly. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be.
No one spoke. After a few minutes, she turned on the radio. A while later, Abby's tears stopped. She sniffed every now and then but otherwise was silent. Melissa sat stiffly in her seat. When they finally arrived back in Fool's Gold, Liz was actually relieved to be in town.
She drove directly to the house and had barely put the car in park before Melissa jumped out. Abby followed her sister.
Liz got out more slowly, then came to a stop when she saw Ethan at the top of the porch stairs.
He'd spent the morning with Tyler and no doubt wanted to complain about something or throw her under a nearby bus. She was too tired and drained for another fight, but telling him that felt like admitting weakness.
“I take it things didn't go well,” he guessed as he approached her.
“Knowing their dad is in prison and seeing him there are two different things. They're upset.”
He was tall and handsome and the fact that she
noticed made her want to stomp her foot in frustration. Why did he have to be the one man on the planet able to win her with a single look? Even now, with the injunction, the past and everything else between them, all she could think about was stepping into his strong embrace and letting him handle things for a little while.
“They took it out on you,” he assumed, not asking a question.
“I'm an easy target.”
He reached toward her. She thought about stepping back but instead braced herself. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
The light brush of his fingers against her skin made her warm inside and a little stronger. Craziness, she told herself. Ethan might not be the enemy, but he wasn't exactly her friend.
“Let's go riding,” he offered.
“What?”
“We'll rent bikes. For all of us. Getting out of the house will make Melissa and Abby feel better and you won't have to deal with them alone.”
“It makes me nervous when you're nice,” she admitted.
“I guess I should be nice more often so you get used to it.”
“I find that unlikely.”
He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Don't sell yourself short.”
“Very funny. I was trying to indicate I'm not sure you
can
be nice.”
“Try me.”
She would like to, even if that made her the local idiot. “I think a bike ride would be safer.”
* * *
A
HALF HOUR LATER, THEY HAD
bikes and were making their way around the lake. Sunlight sparkled on the water where paddle boats glided. Families sat on the grass or under the trees. On the other side of the bike path, teenaged boys played with a Frisbee.
Ethan hung back, wanting to make sure that Melissa and Abby were both comfortable and safe as they rode. Abby stayed close to Liz, talking easily. Melissa was in front, her shoulders stiff, her pace determined. The teenager was obviously still angry.
Tyler was on the other side of his mother. Ethan watched his son weave back and forth, deliberately riding a serpentine course. Every now and then he took both hands off the handlebars, causing his mother to glance at him. Tyler grinned and returned his hands to the bars.
When a family on bikes came toward them on the wide, paved path, everyone moved to the side. Melissa wobbled a little and had to put her foot down to keep from falling. Ethan rode up to her.