Reclaim My Heart

chapter EIGHTEEN

Lucas stood near the deep end of the pool watching Zach bounce on the diving board. Tyne’s father had noticed Zach eyeing the pool and suggested he use one of the suits in the pool house and take a swim before dinner. The teen jumped at the chance. Zach launched himself into the air and made an awkward arch with his body, his hands pressed together above his head. The elaborate splash made Lucas grin surreptitiously; the kid obviously needed some practice.

“Loog shiith hks like he’s enjoying himself.” Richard Whitlock joined Lucas, a bottle of beer in each hand.

Lucas accepted the beer with a nod. “He is. Thanks for inviting him to swim.”

Richard regarded his grandson for several long seconds. “I hope he comes to visit often.”

The man was probing, wanting to know if Lucas would be a help or a hindrance when it came to him developing a relationship with Zach. A mulish streak kept Lucas silent. He tipped up the bottle and drank. He didn’t feel obligated to alleviate the fears of the person who had forced him and Tyne apart sixteen years ago, who had so drastically changed their lives.

Because of Richard Whitlock, you have a law degree.

He scowled, strangling the life out of the voice in his head. Benevolence wasn’t high on his list when it came to Tyne’s father.

“Lucas,” Richard said, “I want you to know I feel bad about how things happened when you and Tyne were kids. I also want you to understand that I only did what I thought was best for my family, what was best for my daughter.”

Both men watched Zach climb out of the pool and traipse back toward the diving board, water dripping from the hem of his borrowed suit, the tips of his fingers, even his nose and locks of his dark hair.

“I’m going to try a jack knife,” the teen announced.

“We’re watching!” Richard reassured his grandson.

Lucas smiled, but he was sure it looked as forced as it felt.

He remained silent while Zach jogged the three steps to the end of the board. The instant his son hit the water, he turned to Richard. “It would have been nice to know she decided to keep Zach. That she was planning to raise our child on her own. I might have been able to help her. From what she tells me, they had a hell of a rough time of it.”

Richard’s gaze slid to the ground, his chin dipping a little closer to his chest. His sigh was heavy. “I was angry. I wasn’t thinking straight. And it only got worse when Tyne continued to be so damn stubborn. I was sure she would come around. Finally see that we were right. That our plans were for the best. But she never did.”

Lucas shook his head, whispering, “Thank heavens for that.”

Patricia Whitlock called out her husband’s name. “The grill’s hot. Time to put the steaks on.”

The man glanced at Zach who was once again hauling himself onto the ladder and then looked Lucas directly in the eyes. “You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I agree with you. Whole-heartedly.”

Watching him walk away, Lucas felt his gut knot. He didn’t trust the man, didn’t know if he could ever or would ever trust him. Tyne’s father had proved himself to be selfish and egocentric; the kind of person who looked down on others, who only watched out for his own interests.

The magnanimous voice he’d choked off attempted to revive itself, and Lucas blanched as it reminded him of his own selfish behavior years ago. Did he dislike Richard Whitlock because of the man’s character and the things he’d done? Or was it because some of the man’s traits reminded him too much of his own?

“Hey, ah, hey. You okay?”

His son’s voice knocked him out of his stupor. He fixed a pleasant expression on his face. “I’m good. That was a great dive.”

Zach laughed. “You weren’t lookin’ ’cause if you had been, you would have said I sucked.” He pointed to his cherry-red belly.

“Ouch.” Lucas chuckled. Zach must have hit the water hard to make his skin turn that shade of pink. “You’re right, I missed it. I was talking to your grandfather.”

“That’s okay.”

“Zach,” Lucas said softly, “I’ve noticed that you use a lot oou kinf ‘heys’ and ‘yous’ when you talk to me.”

His son went still.

“I don’t want you to feel self-conscious when we’re together.” Lucas could smell the sharp scent of chlorine. “I understand that you’ve grown up without a father around, Zach. I realize that calling me dad might be awkward for you. It’s okay for you to call me Lucas, if that’s what you want. If that’s what will make you feel comfortable.”

“Zach!” Tyne shouted. “You’d better dry off and get yourself dressed. Dinner will be ready soon.”

His son’s jaw muscle tensed and he blinked, completely ignoring his mother. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

The question startled Lucas. “What I want?” he repeated, buying himself some time. “Well, actually, no. I’d love for you to call me dad. But only if it’s something you want to do. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing it, though.”

“Zach!” Tyne yelled again.

The teen lifted a hand to let her know he’d heard, and when he looked back at Lucas, he was smiling. “I’ll work on it,” he said, then he snatched his towel from a nearby Adirondack chair and jogged off toward the pool house.

• • •



Tyne sat in the passenger seat of Lucas’s car certain she could have floated back to Wikweko without these four wheels and this gas-powered engine, the feeling fueled by the sheer joy of seeing her parents again. No doubt about it, the beginning of the evening had been rocky, and there had been a bump or two along the way, as well, but for the most part she was really happy about how the reunion with her parents had gone.

After dinner, they had enjoyed thick slabs of Black Forest cake, which her father had raved about, with freshly brewed coffee. While her mom had engaged Zach in lighting the citronella torches surrounding the patio, her father had a second piece of cake. He’d suggested Tyne think about buying an empty storefront on Oak Mills’ Main Street and opening a bakery. Tyne had laughed, but she’d also glowed from his compliment.

They had spent another couple of hours simply catching up. Wanting to keep the focus on the positive, everyone avoided the messiest parts of the past. That, Tyne decided, was what had made the evening such a great success. It was as if they’d all made a silent pact to keep the conversation centered in the here and now.

“So, ah,” Zach piped up from the back seat, “how come no one warned me that my grandparents are freakin’ racist?”

Tyne’s gaze shot to Lucas. The humor lacing her son’s question had Lucas shaking his head and grinning.

“Your mother tried to tell you, Zach.” Lucas glanced at her. “She did try. But it’s difficult to point out the bad traits of the people you love.”

She smiled at him, sliding her hand over top of his where it rested on his thigh.

“When Grandmom talked about that one commissioner as ‘that colored fella,’ I almost choked on my cake.” Zach tugged on his shoulder harness, making a light whizzing sound with the belt. “I thought she was joking. But nobody laughed.”

Tyne sighed.

“Funny thing is,” Zach continued, “she didn’t say anything bad about the man. In fact, she said he was her favorite of all the commissioners. Weird.”

“That sums it up, son.” Tyne looked over her shoulder into the back. “Weird. I can’t figure it out, either. My mother swears she doesn’t mean anything by it, but—”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Lucas pointed out.

“Exactly.” She nodded, hoping Zach could see her in the dim light sprayed by the dashboard. by the oarr. My moHon, I’ve been embarrassed by the way my parents act for as long as I can remember.” She let go of Lucas’s hand, sliding around so she could more easily look at Zach. “But at the same time, they were deeply concerned about my wellbeing, they were kind and loving, and they tried to give me everything a girl could possibly want.”

There would have been a time—a time as early as yesterday—that her heart and mind would not have been open to such an admission.

She grinned. “Your father once called me a spoiled brat.”

Lucas looked into the rearview mirror. “And that was true.” He leaned toward the driver’s side door as Tyne tsked and swiped at his arm.

“What I’m trying to tell you, Zach,” she said, “is that people have good traits and bad traits. Good habits and bad ones. You embrace the good, and do your level best to recognize the bad so it doesn’t affect you.”

Zach was quiet, then he said, “It’s like Uncle Jasper said about life. You gotta take the bitter with the sweet.”

“You got that right.” Lucas flipped on his turn signal and made a left.

“Come on, now.” Tyne nudged his shoulder. “They’re not that bad.” Her facial muscles pinched as she asked, “Are they?” The look in his dark eyes made her groan and laugh at the same time. “They can be awful, I know.”

“They’re not all bad,” Zach said. “They obviously have wads of cash.”

She just turned and looked at her son.

“That house, that patio, that outside kitchen and bar,” he said, justifying his statement, “that bad-ass pool.”

“Zachary!”

“All that land. The pool house is set up like an apartment, Mom. Did you see it? Someone could move right in there. There was a refrigerator, and a TV, and, like, everything you’d need.” Her son reached up and tapped Lucas on the shoulder. “And, Dad, I sneaked a look in the garage. They’ve got a Hummer. How cool is that? A Hummer!”

Tyne’s lips parted and she sucked in a quick, silent breath. Not because her parents owned some exorbitant, gargantuan vehicle, but because her son had called Lucas Dad. The word had rolled right off his tongue. Lucas, however, barely seemed to notice. It was as if her son had always addressed Lucas with the affectionate moniker.

“Zach,” he said, glancing once again into the rearview mirror, “possessions don’t say much about a man. What matters is who he is.”

Something between a grin and a smirk twisted Zach’s lips as he gave the window of the BMW three sharp raps. “I’d say you like possessions just as much as Granddad does.”

Tyne saw the muscle in Lucas’s jaw tense.

“Money can’t buy happiness, Zach,” she told her son.

“Your mother is right.” Lucas’s gaze remained on the roadway ahead. “I don’t mind admitting that I lost my way. It’s really hard to live in today’s world with all its modern technology—wristwatches with GPS, cell phones that call you by name, electronic tablets almost as thin as a sheet of paper, you name it—where ‘he who has the most toys wins.’ Hell, it’s almost impossible not to get caught up in all that grabbing, snatching, and wanting. I don’t mind saying I got my priorities screwed up.” He braked the car at a four way stop, the headlights of the car facing them lighting up his face. “Got them screwed up big time.” His gaze darted to the rearview mirror, obviously wanting to connect with Za





ch. “I’m sure my uncle is ashamed of what I’ve become. I’m one of them. Someone looking for acceptance, someone hell-bent on acquiring the respect and esteem of others by buying condos and cars and building an impressive bank account.”

When the road was clear, Lucas drove slowl as ecty through the intersection.

“Don’t be mad at me.” Zach’s head drooped forward. “I was only pointing out that your BMW was pretty sweet.”

“I’m not angry with you.” Lucas accelerated along the country road toward home. His sigh was loud and long. “And your point is well taken. I’m the last person who should be lecturing you about not letting possessions possess you.”

“Guys,” Tyne said cheerfully, striving to lift the sudden drop in the mood, “we had such a great evening. Let’s not ruin it.”

However, the last few miles to Wikweko were made in total silence.