All That Glitters. Diana Palmer

      Diverted by the movement of her son beside her, she turned her head and smiled at him uneasily. He was a good man. All his adult life he’d looked after her. She shouldn’t be so possessive of him, she knew, but he was all she had left. Her daughter, married now to that overbearing computer executive she didn’t like, and vice president of a major corporation, wouldn’t listen to her anymore. Her mentally challenged son had never recognized her. She had no husband, because the father of Curry and her other children had vanished twenty years ago. She had friends, but they were no substitute for this son of hers who cared so deeply for her welfare. She was keenly aware, as well, that her being Puerto Rican and Catholic had subjected her to discrimination far too often in the past.

      Curry resembled her, with his black eye; but his wavy hair was more deep brown than black, and his olive complexion wasn’t overly dark. Besides that, he had a well-modulated voice with no trace of an accent, although he spoke Spanish as fluently as she did, along with several other languages.