RECLAIM MY HEART(58)

“Your grandparents,” Lucas said, zeroing in on Zach’s image in the rearview mirror, “were very unhappy with your mother when she became pregnant with you.”
Shifting in her seat, she saw that Zach had blanched. She glared at Lucas.
“So they did know about me?” Her son sounded upset. “You guys haven’t seen each other all these years because of me?”
“This has nothing to do with you,” she assured him as quickly and calmly as she could. “What happened back then was between me and them. I was very young. They had lots of plans for me. They wanted me to go to college. They wanted me to—”
“I can’t believe,” Lucas said, his tone heavy with incredulity, “you’re making excuses for how they acted.”
“I will say it again.” Her teeth were clenched. “You are not helping matters, Lucas.”
He looked at her. “He needs to know.”
Everything, his sharp gaze advised.
Surrendering to her anger and blowing up on Lucas would have given her great satisfaction, but it would only deflect from what she already knew as fact. He was absolutely right. But how did you tell your son, who happened to be half Native American, that his grandparents were prejudiced?
She hadn’t a clue exactly what to say, she only knew she had to prepare him. Just in case her mom or dad ended up saying something insulting.
“I need to know what?”
Tyne turned, careful of the cake she balanced on her thighs. “Honey, there are things you should know about my mom and dad. They can be very…?opinionated.”
The soft sound Lucas let loose sounded suspiciously like a snort. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Lucas, I’m trying to ease him into this, okay?” She glanced over her shoulder at Zach. “Honey, you know that station on TV? The one that advertises their news programs to be fair and balanced?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, your grandparents would never be interviewed by that network.”
Zach sat a moment, chewing over the information. “So, what you’re saying is they’re unfair and unbalanced?”
Lucas chuckled despite his ill humor. “Two for two. Way to go, Zach.”
Tyne struggled to hold back a smile. “Lucas, these are my parents we’re talking about,” she reminded him.
He shrugged, still smiling broadly. “If you don’t laugh at life, all you’d do is cry.”
“Whatever,” she intoned. “What I’m trying to explain, Zach, is that your grandparents aren’t very open-minded people, and—”
Her son’s gaze left her face to stare, his mouth parting, his eyes widening. “Whoa! Would you look at that!”
Lucas turned the steering wheel, the car bumping slightly onto the asphalt driveway. Tyne looked up the hill at the house she’d been raised in. A lovely, old Victorian, the house sat on a rise that afforded a beautiful view of the town, rolling hills, the wide, winding river. Lush vegetation deliberately placed to offer a variety of texture and color decorated the vast lawn.
“They could charge admission to this place.” Zach was taking it all in, glancing left and right as his father eased along the wide, curving driveway. “This looks like that place we visited. That botanist’s house. Remember?”
“Bartram’s Garden,” Tyne supplied.
“Yeah. That was it.”
As a single mother on a limited income, she’d become an expert at sniffing out inexpensive outings, places of interest to take her son to while away a long summer day.
An in-ground pool and pool house sat off to one side, the building sporting the same lacy gingerbread trim as the main house.
Lucas motioned to the pool house with a slight jerk of his head and murmured, “We could have used that when we were dating.”
She clamped her lips together to keep from grinning, but it was a failed attempt. Since they’d made love, there had been a deliciously playful air between the two of them. Even though Lucas was annoyed that she had obligated him by accepting her father’s invitation to dinner without asking him, it obviously hadn’t dampened the lively energy that danced between them.
“Zach,” Tyne tried again, “what I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“There they are,” Zach said, cutting her off.
Tyne shifted to face forward. Her parents stood waiting on the side porch, and the instant Lucas brought the car to a halt, they hurried downy hidth="5%"> the steps toward them.
With her blond hair cut in a short, fashionable style, her tailored capris and trendy blouse, Patricia Whitlock looked at least ten years younger than her husband. However, Tyne knew there was just a couple of year’s difference in their ages. Her mom’s eyes glittered with unadulterated excitement, and Tyne’s heart swelled with bittersweet pain.
“Zach,” Lucas said as he put the transmission into park, “I want you to try hard this evening not to react to anything you might hear or see.” He twisted around. “Son, I want you to keep a tight rein on your anger.” He glanced out the side passenger window at Tyne’s approaching parents. “We can talk about anything that bothers you on the way home. Understood?”
Although Zach’s brow knitted with confusion, he nodded silently.
Smiles could convey many different sentiments; the one she offered Lucas expressed her gratitude for his ability to tackle the bottom line with their son when she hadn’t been able to.
When Tyne stepped out of the car, her father smiled a greeting, kissed her cheek, took the cake plate from her hands, and then for the first time in almost sixteen years, she found herself in her mother’s arms. A child waking on Christmas morning couldn’t have been happier than she was at this moment. Sure, her inside churned with conflicting emotions and a heady sense of doubt, but this was her mom. Her mom.