“Thanks for staying here,” Liz said, hugging her.
“After what you’d been through, you needed a break. I’m happy I could help.”
Sunday was a lazy day of strolling around town, followed by lunch and a movie. Ethan hung out with them. Liz did her best to act normal so none of the kids would suspect that she and Ethan had behaved like more than friends the night before. At least thinking about sex meant she didn’t have to think about her attacker.
Since she didn’t know what making love with Ethan had meant, there was no reason to talk about it. Not that she would anyway. But it was difficult not to think about it or try to assign various meanings to their time together. It was a bit stressful, so by Monday she was ready to have her life back.
Unfortunately, the town didn’t cooperate. She spent the day fielding visitors who stopped by to check on her. About ten-thirty, after her doorbell rang for the fifth time, she accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to get any work done. At least not that day.
She already had a collection of casseroles in the freezer, salads in the refrigerator and enough cookies to make the kids do the happy dance for weeks. When the doorbell rang again, she braced herself for yet another visit where they would discuss her stalker fan, relive the attack, her rescue and crow over the fact that because she’d been in Fool’s Gold when it had happened, all was well. She wasn’t expecting to find Dakota and Tyler on the porch.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Dakota held up a hand. “Don’t panic. Everything is fine. I was heading into town when Tyler said he wanted to come home and talk to you.”
Liz looked at her son. He stared more at the ground than her, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that made her worry.
“Okay. That’s fine.” She opened the door wider.
Dakota looked curious, but only said, “You can take him back to camp later if you want or have him stay home. Just phone the office and let us know which.”
“I will,” Liz promised.
Dakota waved and left.
Liz followed her son into the living room. Instead of sitting he turned to face her.
His dark eyes, so like Ethan’s, were bright with emotion. He pressed his lips together, as if gathering his thoughts, then spoke.
“You should have married Dad.”
She held in a groan. Not exactly a turn she expected the conversation to take, and not a concept she looked forward to explaining.
“Is this about what that woman said on Saturday?” she asked, doing her best to sound calm.
“Sort of. Parents get married.”
“Some do. Some don’t.”
Tyler glared at her. “I wanted to know my dad. I kept asking and asking and you wouldn’t tell me. You wouldn’t say anything. It’s not fair.” His voice escalated exponentially.
“Okay, if we’re going to have this conversation, we’re going to sit down and we’re going to speak calmly. If you’re going to get upset and yell, I’m not talking to you.”
“Fine,” he grumbled and collapsed on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest.
She sat on the coffee table in front of him, so they were facing each other.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I was only four years older than Melissa. Do you think she’s ready to be a mom?”
He shook his head but didn’t speak.
“I came back to tell your dad, but he was with someone else. A girl. And I was hurt and confused, so I left.”
“You should have stayed. You should have tried harder.”
“I know.”
“You should have,” Tyler repeated, his voice getting louder again. “He would have married you. I asked him and he said he would have married you. We would have been a family.”
She drew in a breath. “Tyler, please. I know you’re upset, but I meant what I said. I’m not having a screaming match with you.” Especially not about this.
She reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked it back. That hurt more than the questions, more than the accusations.
“He would have been my dad,” her son said more quietly.
What was she supposed to say to that? How could she explain?
“I was very young.”
“You keep saying that. I don’t care. You were wrong.” His eyes filled with tears. “You kept me from my dad.”
Which is what this was about.
How was she supposed to explain about hurt pride and a bruised heart? Maybe she didn’t.
“You’re right,” she said again softly. “I did keep you from him. That wasn’t my intent. I didn’t mean to hurt either of you, but that’s what happened and I’m sorry.”
“That’s not good enough.” A tear slipped down his cheek. He looked away. “I needed my dad and he wasn’t there.”
She thought about pointing out how she’d tried again five years ago, but fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. Information Tyler would need at some point, but not now.