“Are you going to keep him from us?” Denise asked, sounding both defiant and afraid.
“No. I never wanted that. My life with Tyler wasn’t about punishing anyone. He would like to have a big family.”
“He could have had one all along,” Denise snapped.
“And your son could have been more responsible.”
“Don’t bring Ethan into this.”
“Right. Because I got pregnant all on my own. That whole slut thing, right?”
Denise pressed her lips together. “No. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate that, but I have things to do.” The door was still open. Liz glanced toward it. “We can continue this another time,” she elaborated. “After I talk to Ethan.”
Denise hesitated, then nodded and left.
Liz closed the door and leaned against it. Talk about a tough twenty-four hours, and it wasn’t over yet.
EXACTLY AT SIX, ETHAN KNOCKED on Liz’s front door. Her SUV was still in the driveway. He’d checked on it a couple times during the day. Not that he actually thought she would leave, but he wanted to be sure.
The door opened and Liz stood there, glaring at him. “Right on time,” she snapped. “Probably because you’re so damn rested, having sent your mother to take care of things for you.”
She looked good. All fire and temper, her green eyes flashing. He was caught up in the sight of the freckles he’d remembered. In the dark, he’d been unable to see them, but now he could count them easily. So it took a second for her words to register.
“My mother?”
“She was here earlier. It was great. Because you yelling at me isn’t enough of a thrill.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t tell her to come by.”
“You didn’t have to. The Hendrixes all stick together. It was that way years ago and nothing has changed. You told her about me and Tyler, and she showed up. Are you really going to stand there and say you’re shocked?”
“No,” he conceded. “It’s totally her style. For what it’s worth, she’s the one who told me to be rational and reasonable.”
“It’s not worth very much.” She rubbed her temple. “I have to admit in all the years I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to have you involved in Tyler’s life, I never thought of having to deal with your mother.”
“She’ll do anything for the people she loves.”
“Like I’m getting on that list?”
“You know she’ll be there for Tyler.”
“A small consolation,” Liz said. “Right now the only thing I’m grateful for is the fact that she didn’t have time to tell me what having your son is going to mean to the Hendrix family name. How we’ll have to make sure we act right all the time and do the right thing, so the legacy isn’t tarnished.” She took a step. “Come on. He’s waiting to meet you.”
Ethan followed her in. He wanted to ask what she’d told Tyler, what his son was expecting. All day he’d imagined what he was supposed to say or do, how to make it everything Tyler wanted the moment to be. Before he could ask, or even swallow the sudden surge of anger that followed the concern, she stopped and turned to face him.
“He’s really excited and a little scared. I told him some about you—what you do, that sort of thing. Please remember however you feel about what happened, he’s not to blame.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“He’s my son,” she reiterated, staring into his eyes. “I’ll do anything to keep him safe.”
A claim Ethan hadn’t been able to make until now, he thought, knowing he couldn’t dwell on the unfairness of the situation. Tyler was the important one here. The one who had to be protected.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” he said gruffly.
She sighed. “Just be careful. The ability to hurt someone is usually in direct proportion to how much that person cares about you.”
She moved into the living room, then called up the stairs. “Tyler. Your dad is here.”
Ethan braced himself for emotional impact. He heard slow footsteps on the stairs, then his son came into view.
Any doubts he might have had about paternity died the second he saw Tyler. The boy was all Hendrix. From the dark hair and eyes to the shape of his head. He looked like Ethan’s younger brothers had when they’d been kids.
An unexpected rise of emotion made it tough to talk. He was filled with longing and sadness, as well as wonder. His kid. How had this happened without him guessing Tyler was alive?
Liz waited until the boy stepped into the living room, then moved behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Tyler, this is your dad, Ethan Hendrix. Ethan, this is Tyler.”
“Hi,” Tyler said, sounding uncertain. He stared at Ethan, then glanced away, before looking back.
“I was telling Tyler about how you used to ride bikes when you were younger.”