It wasn’t behavior he’d been proud of. Looking back, with the wisdom of hindsight, he knew he hadn’t been ready for Liz. Hadn’t deserved her.
He’d been blessed with a happy, normal childhood. He hadn’t realized that little had been asked of him, so he hadn’t had to prove himself. On the surface, he’d seemed like one of the good guys, but underneath, he’d been immature and selfish.
It had taken the accident that had ended his racing career to start the process of maturing him. But even that hadn’t been enough. Because he’d come home to sulk, to complain. It was only after the death of his father, when he’d been forced to take over the family business, that he’d finally started to grow up.
“I wasn’t ready,” he said slowly. “Not to be what Liz needed. If I’d known she was pregnant, I would have done the right thing and married her. But I don’t think we would have made it.”
“You might have surprised yourself.”
“You’re my mom. You have to believe the best of me.” Even when it wasn’t true.
She and Nevada were right, he thought. Serving Liz had accomplished nothing but alienating her. Maybe he had wanted to get her attention. If so, he’d picked a lousy way to do it.
“She needs someone on her side,” Denise told him. “You have your family and the town.”
“Not everyone in town,” he assured, remembering the old lady who’d gone after him with her purse.
“You’re still coming out ahead. If we’re not careful, Liz will feel overwhelmed and take off. Honestly, I’m not sure I would blame her for that.” His mother paused, then scrunched her face. “I could have been a lot more supportive and understanding. I should have been. I want to know my grandson, and Liz is the key to making that happen.”
He thought about pointing out that if push came to shove, they could go to court. Force Liz to let Tyler spend time with the family. But in the end, no one would win. Certainly not Tyler. And as Liz had pointed out several times, the kid was the most important part of the equation.
“I can’t take the injunction back,” he said, not completely sure he would if he could. Although he still wasn’t sure why. His mother was right—he was trying to prove something.
“You may not be able to take it back, but I can make an effort, and I’m going to. Liz has been in this by herself for too long. I’m still angry about missing the first eleven years of Tyler’s life, but if I don’t let that go, my emotions will affect everything else. And not in a good way. Besides, Rayanne is to blame for the last five years. This is so complicated.” She looked at him. “I suppose you’re going to be an idiot for a while longer.”
“Apparently.”
She surprised him by smiling. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your father. He was an idiot, too.”
“And you still loved him.”
Her smile broadened. “Yes, but Liz might not be as smart as me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
LIZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A CITY event-planning meeting before. When Pia had called to invite her, she thought the afternoon might be interesting. Her stay in Fool’s Gold was temporary but she might as well get a feel for the good as well as the bad. If nothing else, she may be able to put the experience in a book.
A little before two, she walked to the City Hall building and found her way to the meeting room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find herself in a good-size open space, with about three dozen chairs facing a long table and a podium. Most of the chairs were full, and three women chatted by the head table. Montana and Pia were among them and smiled at her.
Liz smiled back, then went to find an empty seat.
Her choices were limited. There was one next to a young mother with a baby. Liz didn’t recognize her, so they hadn’t gone to school together. Odds were the woman wouldn’t care about Liz or her past. There were several older women sitting together, but after the recent comments on her character by strangers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk the wrath of a potential mob.
Unable to find a place that felt safe, she settled for a seat in the back corner. With any luck, she would be ignored.
A woman in the row in front of her turned to face her. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Marti and I just love your books.”
“Thanks.”
“Your main character is wonderful. She feels so real. And thank God you’re not putting too much gore in your books. I know violence is part of the genre, but some authors go too far.”
“I enjoy writing my stories,” Liz acknowledged, knowing a neutral response was usually best. The truth was she always liked hearing her readers opinions, even when she didn’t agree with them. Readers probably thought she ignored what they said, but that wasn’t true. Liz had made not a few changes in story lines based on reader input.
“I love reading them,” Marti repeated, before smiling and facing front.