Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(88)

Natasha put her head in her hands, used her palms to block out the light.

Unnecessary. Four foster homes, each worse than the one before it—to call such a terrible childhood unnecessary floored her.

“Do you think we could have that tea?” Delia said in a soft voice.

“God! I’m so sorry. I just… Oh, it’s going to be way too strong.”

“Right now tea of any sort will taste like an elixir,” Delia said.

Natasha poured the tea.

“No milk, please. I’m lactose intolerant.”

“So is Tyler,” Natasha said. “I have almond milk.”

“Must be genetic,” Delia said with a smile. “Almond milk will be fine.”

The only evidence that Delia—her grandmother!—was nervous was the tremble in her hand as she lifted the mug to her lips.

“It’s perfect,” Delia purred with a smile. “There’s so much to catch up on. A whole lifetime. But I’d also understand if you wanted me to go right after I finish my tea. To give you some time to take this all in.”

“No, please don’t go. Tell me about my father.”

And with that simple request, Natasha realized that she owed it to Tyler for him to know about his father too. She wished Eddie had waited to show up when Tyler was an adult, when Tyler could choose what sort of relationship he wanted to have, if any. But that choice was out of her hands. And she couldn’t deny them a relationship they both deserved. She could only do everything she could to make sure that Eddie didn’t hurt him. But she owed Tyler the truth.

Delia put her mug down and pulled a group of photos from her purse.

“As I said, you look like him. This is William when he was about ten.”

Natasha looked into a face so strikingly similar to Tyler’s that it spooked her.

“And this was taken around the time he met your mother.”

Though Natasha had always thought she looked like her mother, she saw that she also bore a strong resemblance to her father. To William Marbury. He was devastatingly handsome. It was no wonder that her mother had fallen in love.

“Your mother was an amazing dancer. I saw her on stage once in New York. Of course at the time, I didn’t know that she and William were involved.” She sighed. “I only wish he’d been ready to settle down.”

Delia flashed the last photo from the stack. William leaned against a brightly colored racing car, the sort Natasha had only ever seen on TV.

“This is the last photo ever taken of him. You can have it if you’d like.”

Natasha traced the face on the faded photo. She’d gained and lost a father in less than an hour. It was hard to wrap her mind around the reality. Around any of what Delia was revealing.

“But enough about me,” Delia said. “Tell me about you.”

Natasha poured them both a second mug of tea and related the events of her and Tyler’s life. She even told Delia about the repeating dream. And about her foolish bet. She didn’t tell about her history with Eddie. That would wait until she knew better what to say. But she did tell her about Adrian.

“You love this boy,” Delia said, gesturing with her tea mug.

“Tyler?”

“Of course Tyler. He’s lucky to have you for a mother. But I was talking about this man, Adrian. You love him. I see it in your eyes. You’re inches from the altar.”

“Not even close. He’s from a different world, Delia.”

“In what world would a man not fall in love with you?”

“A very wealthy world. I’m afraid that though he liked me—and I truly believe he did—I’m an employee. A worker. He’s a privileged heir. Our worlds would never mesh.”

“He doesn’t sound like the sort of man who would let such a minor detail get in his way.”

“It’s not just that. If you saw the women around him, you’d understand. They’re sophisticated, well traveled. Beautiful.”

“I see you. Likely he does as well.”

“The women he knows don’t have problems reading a simple sentence and getting numbers right.”

“Details, my dear. If I’d let such things influence me, I’d never have ended up with my George. We had fifty-two good years before the good Lord took him.” She set her mug on the counter and straightened. A light came into her eyes.

“Dear, if you hadn’t made that bet, if you hadn’t kept your mother’s last name and ended up on the welfare rolls, we would never have found you.” She grinned and her eyes twinkled with glee. “Maybe seventeen is your lucky number after all—otherwise you surely wouldn’t have met this Adrian, and we wouldn’t be sitting here having tea. Oh, how I do love happy endings.”

“Adrian and I aren’t going to have the happy ending you’re wishing for. I saw yesterday how he looked at me. I really let myself see, maybe for the first time. There are a hundred differences that make us incompatible.”

“A hundred is a lot, my dear. I do believe you’re exaggerating.”

“I can’t be a project, like some sort of twisted version of My Fair Lady. If Adrian had wanted to take a step toward me as a man moves toward a woman, he could have. He didn’t. In fact, yesterday he was very, very careful not to. And who could blame him, considering the mess I’ve made of my life?”