Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)(16)

“Do you think my dad will want to take me hiking?” Tyler asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

She knew that Ethan had been injured in college, shortly after she’d left town. Something about a bike crash. At the time, she hadn’t wanted to know the details. From the little she’d seen, he could walk easily enough, so he could probably handle a day hike.

“You said he rode a bike,” Tyler repeated. “He raced?”

“Yes. In high school and college. He had a friend name Josh. Josh had hurt his legs and he rode his bike to get his strength back. Like physical therapy.”

Tyler nodded, his gaze locked on her. “My dad rode with him?”

“They were friends. They were both really good and started racing together. Then your dad got hurt.”

“What happened to Josh?”

Liz pointed to the poster on the wall—the one that showed Josh Golden in racing gear, a helmet under one arm, his free hand holding on to his bike.

“Whoa!” Tyler grinned at her. “My dad knows Josh Golden?”

“I think Josh lives in town.”

“Sweet.”

Lunch arrived. Between bites Tyler peppered her with questions. Some she could answer, some she couldn’t. A few she ducked. By the time they were on their way home, she was exhausted and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.

“How about giving me some time to work?” she asked as they approached the house.

“Okay. I’ll watch a movie.” He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch. “Five more hours.”

She forced a smile. No doubt her son would count down the minutes. While she understood and appreciated his excitement, nothing about this was simple for her. Especially Ethan’s understandable rage and her own growing sense of having screwed up.

But when the self-doubt threatened, she reminded herself that she had come back to tell him about Tyler. Maybe the first effort hadn’t been much, but she’d handled the second one the best she could. She even had proof that Ethan had rejected his son. Proof that might not be real.

What kind of woman kept information of a child from her husband?

In high school, Rayanne had traveled with a pack of mean girls and Liz had been one of their favorite victims. Rayanne, Pia O’Brian and a few others had delighted in making Liz’s life a nightmare. Liz might have been smart and pretty, but she’d been poor, living in a bad part of town and she’d had a reputation.

It didn’t matter that Liz hadn’t dated a single guy until Ethan. Not only had he been her first time, he’d been her first kiss. But as far as everyone in high school was concerned, Liz Sutton had been a piece of ass who put out for anyone who asked. Or paid.

There had been plenty of guys who’d claimed to have done her. She’d heard the bragging, the taunts. No one cared that it wasn’t true. No one questioned the rumors. After all, her mother was a drunk and a whore—why not her?

She shook off the past, knowing it wouldn’t help her now. She had to focus on what was happening today. Wasn’t that enough of a problem?

When they reached the house, Tyler raced into the living room to pick a movie. After searching through the collection in the small bookcase by the window, he chose one and brought it to Liz.

“It’s kind of a girl movie,” he said with a shrug, “but I haven’t seen it.”

Liz glanced at the Hannah Montana title, then ruffled his hair. “Sometimes girls are fun.”

“I guess.”

He would find out about girls being fun soon enough, she thought, watching him bolt upstairs. She’d brought the portable DVD player he used when they traveled, along with headphones. So the house would be quiet. She couldn’t use noise as an excuse not to work.

After booting up her laptop, she did a quick check of e-mail, then opened her Word document. But despite the half-written sentence and the blinking cursor, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Everyone always talked about how great she had it. That being a writer was so wonderful. She could work anywhere, at anytime. Which was, in theory, true. But there was also no one else to do the work when she wasn’t in the mood, or when life interfered, like now. No meeting to take her mind off her swirling thoughts. At this point she would happily return to her waitressing days rather than try to come up with a few good pages. But that wasn’t an option. She could only type and delete until something finally clicked or there was a miracle.

Today the miracle came in the form of someone ringing the doorbell.

Liz saved her pitiful three sentences and got up from the kitchen table. When she opened the front door, she decided miracle wasn’t exactly the right word.

Denise Hendrix, Ethan’s mother, stood on her doorstep. The woman was well dressed, fit, attractive and based on the fire spitting from her eyes, really, really upset.

“May I come in?” Denise asked, pushing past Liz and entering the shabby living room, then facing her. “We’ve never met, but I’m Ethan’s mother.”

“I know who you are.”

“And why I’m here?” Denise demanded.

As questions went, it wasn’t a difficult one. She nodded.

Denise looked around. “Where is he?”

Liz assumed she meant Tyler. “Upstairs, watching a movie.”