Fidgeting with the large decorative button on the throw pillow, Eliza kept her gaze lowered. “Harriet knows that Grant’s Ben’s father. And… she knows about Dad not paying taxes on the handyman jobs around town. Stan must have told her….”
The color drained from Sylvia’s face and she didn’t move or speak. Or seem to be breathing at all, for that matter. The yoga video’s soundtrack of soothing pan flute paired with ocean waves crashing against the shore lent an eerie tone to the atmosphere. And all the lavender-scented incense in the world couldn’t cut through the cloud of tension hanging over their heads.
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Eliza whispered. “Harriet said if I kept quiet about Ben, Stan wouldn’t report you. But now, I’m afraid—”
“That soulless viper!” Sylvia leapt from the table, cracking her knuckles as she paced across the shaggy carpet. “When I get my hands on her…”
Eliza’s eyes widened as she watched her mother transform into one of the gang members fromWest Side Story.“Mom?”
Sylvia whipped around, her dark eyes blazing. “That woman lied to you. Your fatherwasn’tgoing to report the money he made from odd jobs. But after we had a long talk about it, he brought all the receipts to Stan and had him amend the tax paperwork.”
“What?” Eliza’s heart lurched to a stop, pain shooting through her chest. “No… that can’t be right. She said all the paperwork was in Stan’s office, and she’d show me proof….” Squeezing her eyes shut, Eliza pressed her fingertips against her throbbing temples, trying to quiet the condemning voices jeering inside her head. How could she have been so naive? Doubling over, Eliza covered her mouth, suddenly feeling ill.
Sliding onto the couch beside her, Sylvia wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, honey. You were still a child back then.”
“It’s been over seven years, Mom. And I never once suspected it was a lie.” Tears of shame tumbled down Eliza’s cheeks, and she didn’t bother wiping them away. She should have known better. She should have been smarter…. Once the thought process started, theshould havesspun through her mind like a hand mixer switched on high speed, making her dizzy.
“And why should you have suspected it was a lie?” Sylvia’s eyes flashed with indignation. “That kind of evil is unconscionable. What possible reason could she have had for keeping Grant away from his son, anyway?”
“She said having a child would ruin his life.”
“Hogwash,” Sylvia snorted. “They’ll ruin your body, but Grant hardly had to worry about that.”
“Is it hogwash, though?” Holding her mother’s gaze, Eliza willed herself to get everything out in the open, once and for all. “Having me so young meant you had to give up on your dream of becoming the next Audrey Hepburn.”
“I’m really more of a Katharine, don’t you think? She seems much feistier.”
Eliza groaned. “So not the point, Mom.”
“I know, I know.” Sylvia slipped her arm from around Eliza’s shoulders and grabbed her hand, holding it between both of hers. “I want you to listen to me closely. Are you listening?”
“Yes.” Eliza’s lower lip trembled, her tears falling anew.
“You didn’t ruin my dream. Ichoseto give up acting. Do I occasionally miss the bright lights and grand costumes? Sure. But being your mother is the greatest role I’ve ever been given. And it was brilliant casting on God’s part, if I do say so myself.”
“Gee. And so humble, too.” Eliza sniffled, cracking a small smile.
“Want to take a guess at my greatest performance of all time?”
“When you were Sandy inGrease?”
“Not even close.” A soft, wistful smile lit Sylvia’s dark eyes. “I believe you were Ben’s age the first time you used your Easy-Bake Oven. You had the biggest grin on your face when you handed me this gooey glob of shortening, raw egg, and a lethal amount of salt. I thought for sure you’d poisoned me. But I ate that weird, oddly cold blob of goo as if it were the queen’s secret supply of chocolate.”
“I actually remember that! The way you raved about it made me want to become a baker someday.”
“Lucky for us, you’ve improved slightly.” Sylvia winked, giving her hand a squeeze. “I couldn’t be prouder of you, sweetheart. And I know you’ll find a way to mend things with Grant. Just give it time.”
Eliza leaned in to her mother’s embrace, hoping with all her heart that she was right
* * *
After their game of chess, Stan left Grant alone in the office to work, and a funny thing happened.
Grant used to think being single allowed him endless creative freedom. But now, spurred by his newfound parental responsibility, Grant’s mind flooded with inspiration. Not only did he want to provide the best life possible for his son, but he wanted to make him proud.
In just over five hours, Grant had completed the preliminary design for Landon’s website and sent him the link for his approval.
As their video call connected, Landon’s magnetic smile filled the screen. “Hey, man. The design is awesome!”
