she reminded him, and turned him around to get him headed in the right direction.
“Can I read?” he asked on his way.
“Until I get there,” she called after him.
“’Kay,” he called back and disappeared up the stairs.
“He’s a neat kid.” The admission came almost reluctantly, as if he hadn’t wanted to be as impressed—or touched—as he was by a five-year-old. “I don’t know how long it’s been since he lost his dad, but you seem to be doing a great job with him.”
It had been fourteen months that sometimes felt like mere weeks. Sometimes, strangely, as if it had been years.
“It was a year ago in October. And thank you,” she offered at the compliment. “Thank you for being so nice to him, too. I’m sure you had other things to do tonight, but you just made his week. He’s not around men very often,” she said, compelled to explain why her son had monopolized his evening. “And he really misses his dad.”
“I imagine he does.” The agreement brought a frown. “What about relatives? Grandfathers? Uncles?”
She shrugged. “My parents are in Colorado.” This month, anyway. Heaven only knew where they’d be this time next year. “I’m an only child. So were my parents. So that’s it for my side. Curt’s family is in Seattle, but his parents aren’t...available.” Pushing her fingers through her hair, she could practically feel the hurt building in her chest. Even with Tyler out of earshot, her voice sank at the heartlessness of what had been said. “Actually,” she conceded, “they don’t want anything to do with him.”
He took a step closer, his brow dropping right along with his voice. “Why wouldn’t they want to see their grandson?”
The need to restrain her resentment pushed hard. The hurt pushed back. It was Erik’s expression, though, the unquestioning disapproval in it, that urged her on.
“Until a few hours ago, I’d thought it was just because of me,” she admitted, pride biting the dust. “I don’t care about having a relationship with Curt’s parents for myself. I gave up wanting their acceptance a long time ago. But they’re family. Tyler’s, anyway,” she clarified, reminded again of how succinctly her change in status had been pointed out to Audrey’s friends. “For his sake, I did want him to have a relationship with them. I wanted him to have traditions.
“Especially this time of year,” she hurried on. “Curt and I barely had time to start our own and my parents never had any.” None that counted, anyway. None she wanted to pass on. “But as much as anything, I’d hoped he’d have a sense of being part of more than just him and me.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned traditions to him. The last time he’d been there, she’d made learning those his grandparents had maintained over the years a huge priority. But discovering why she apparently lacked those bits of history herself—and, if he had to guess, the sense of belonging that came with sharing them—would have to wait. He was far more interested in what had her looking agitated enough to pace the walls.
Until a few hours ago, she’d said.
“Does this have something to do with that call from his grandmother when you dropped me off last week?”
It had everything to do with it. It also surprised her that he remembered it.
“I finally talked to her this afternoon. I already knew she didn’t want me to be part of their Christmas Day,” she told him, hating how she’d even let that matter to her. “But I’d hoped I could stop by for an hour or so with Tyler on Christmas Eve so he could spend some time with them. Audrey hadn’t sounded thrilled with the idea when I first asked,” she admitted, understating considerably, “but she’d said she’d get back to me. She called while I was on my way from the lawyer’s to pick up Tyler at school.”
Rory would be forever grateful that Tyler hadn’t been in the car at the time. She had known for years that the senior Linfields hadn’t approved of her. She’d just had no idea until that call how little they’d cared about the child their son had so dearly loved. “She and Curt’s father decided it best that there be no further contact between us. She said it was just too painful for them to see me or ‘the boy.’”
The hurt she felt for her son shadowed her eyes, filled her hushed voice as slights of past years could no longer be ignored.
“I should have seen this coming.” She turned toward the rack of muffins cooling on the counter. Turned right back. “Nothing about this ever came up while Curt was alive, but since his death they haven’t wanted to spend any time with Tyler at all.” Twice she had arranged to meet them. Once for Curt’s father’s birthday so Tyler could give him the present he’d made for him, a collage of photos of Tyler and his dad. Once for a trip to the zoo. Both had been canceled by last-minute calls from Audrey. “I’m just glad I hadn’t told him we’d be seeing them at Christmas. It’s so much easier on him to not get his hopes up at all than to have him be disappointed all over again.”
She turned back to the muffins, brushed a couple of crumbs from the counter into her palm, took two steps to the sink.
“What are you going to tell him if he asks about seeing them?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had time to figure that out.”
“Maybe they’ll change their minds.”
With a glance toward him, the crumbs landed on white porcelain.
“Only if you believe in hell freezing over.”
The rush of water in pipes told her the child under discussion remained occupied in the upstairs bathroom. Still, her voice grew quieter as agitation had her turning away, turning back once more.
“Audrey said that they feel no bond with him.” She spoke bluntly, as Audrey had. “That they never have. She said they tried while Curt was alive, for Curt’s sake, but with him gone, there was no need to keep up the pretense. He’s not their son’s blood, so they want nothing to do with him. Apparently, they already amended their will to delete Curt’s ‘legal offspring.’ Heaven forbid ‘the boy’ should get a penny of their precious money.”
Caution crossed the hard angles of Erik’s face.
“Not their son’s blood.” He repeated her words slowly, as if to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. “He’s not Curt’s child?”
As upset as she was, as insulted and offended as she was for her son, that caution barely registered. “Not biologically. We adopted him. We’ve had him since he was two days old,” she explained, going with the bonds that really mattered. To her, anyway. “We didn’t know until after a year of trying that Curt couldn’t have children. It wasn’t anything we ever discussed with anyone,” she added in a rush. “We just said that the opportunity to adopt came up and we couldn’t say no. After nearly four years and no other children, I’m sure his parents figured the problem was with me.
“Not that it matters,” she muttered, hugging her arms around her waist. “And not that I’ll ever tell them otherwise. They hadn’t liked me the minute they found out I was Curt’s secretary and not a lawyer myself. You could actually see them withdraw when they found that out. It got even worse when they found out my ‘people’ weren’t the right pedigree. But
