RECLAIM MY HEART(62)

“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.”