And Elizabeth hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. He stared at his father, wanting more explanations. Nolan remained silent and watchful.
“It was a standoff, both of us determined to get our way. In the end, Elizabeth laid down an ultimatum. She doesn’t believe in divorce and told me she’d agree to have you in the house and raise you if we moved to a new town where no one knew our history. She didn’t want neighbors looking at her sideways or gossiping behind her back.”
Tyler closed his eyes and the roaring inside his head escalated. Elizabeth—he couldn’t think of her as his mother—had acquiesced to his presence. Grudgingly, he’d bet, and she’d never treated him like a son, never comforted him when he’d fallen and skinned his knees. Instead, he’d received a perfunctory order to clean up and stop crying. From Elizabeth, he’d learned independence.
The memories, the demands to behave, to do as he was told…the punishments when he didn’t conform to her standards. Every transgression commented on and the meting out of an appropriate punishment. After a while he’d given up trying to please her because nothing he’d done was good enough. Leaving for university had come as a relief, until Rebecca had become pregnant and his entire future crashed around his ears.
His eyes snapped opened, and he poured his fury into his glare at his father. “Why didn’t you stick up for me? Why did you let her treat me the way she did?”
“Guilt. The entire situation was my fault. My lust for another woman created the problem.”
“You didn’t have to take me. You could have had me adopted.” Pain underscored his words, and Josie’s arm went around his waist, trying to take some of his anguish with her loving touch.
“You’re my son,” his father said, as if that explained everything. He glanced at Nolan. “You’re both my sons.”
“You’ve a funny way of showing kinship. You never stood up for me. You let her treat me like a stranger in your home. Seen and not heard.”
“It was part of my agreement with Elizabeth,” his father said, his haggard face full of regret. “It wasn’t right, but it was the only way I could keep you close.”
“What about my real mother?” A mother he didn’t know. Right now he ached to fill the gaps in his memory, to learn about her.
His father gave a heavy sigh. “She was beautiful with long, dark hair and big, brown eyes. She was an art teacher at a high school in Christchurch, and she did portraits in the square, not far from the cathedral, on the weekends. That’s how I met her. I stopped to watch her sketching a portrait and she talked me into sitting for one. Things went from there.”
His artistic talent came from his mother. He’d always wondered since his father and Elizabeth couldn’t draw a straight line. A tiny spark of warmth bloomed in contrast to the chill wrapped around his chest. “Do you have a photo?”
“No, I’m sorry.” His father glanced around the room before he let his gaze settle on Tyler. “I should have told you this a long time ago. I should have stood up for you more while you were growing up. I know you’ll probably never forgive me—hell, I don’t think I’ll come close for making up for my behavior.” His chest rose and fell in another sigh. “If you want to talk, I’ll be moving in with Nolan once he has a spare room. I have a room at the Blue Gum motel meantime.”
Tyler gave a curt nod, physically unable to say a word of reply. The door slammed behind his father and Nolan.
“Tyler.” Josie tugged him around and stared into his face. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. Talk about a prick of a day. First Susan and now this. “It’s late,” he finally said. “I might go to bed.”
“Tyler, before you go.” Eric stopped him with gruff words and a hand on his shoulder. “Josie and I think of you as family. As far as we’re concerned, you’re our son and we love you.”
“Eric is right,” Josie said. “We might not tell you often, but without you we’d have lost the farm. We know Rebecca wasn’t easy, yet despite that you stuck with her and then us when we were at our lowest.” She smiled at him, her face soft and eyes misty. “We love you, son.”
“Thanks. The feeling is mutual.” Tyler struggled for the right words, the right response. “I…ah…I’m knackered. It’s been a long day.”
“Night, Tyler,” Eric said.
“See you in the morning,” Josie said.
Their soft murmurs drifted after him as he sped down the passage, desperate for the sanctity of his room. He shut the door quietly when the urge to slam it had him trembling. Heaviness shoved against his ribs, and he clenched his jaw to hold back his shouts of frustration. Nothing had changed yet the ground shook beneath his foundations, shifting the balance of his life.
No point resenting Eric and Josie. The way he looked at it—they’d saved him and Katey. They’d made him and their granddaughter into a family, giving his little girl everything she needed. Love. Security.
Art and his dreams…
Well, he’d had to grow up and take responsibility for his daughter, his sick wife. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t paint in his spare time.
In the darkness, Tyler stripped out of his clothes and slid into bed.
He closed his eyes and Suzy’s sad expression when she’d told him she’d be leaving Clare floated through his mind.Fuck!As much as he hated to accept the truth, she was right. Forcing the issue would end up like his marriage all over again with two people who loved each other torn in two different directions.
No, he’d stay here in Clare. Life would go on and he’d survive.
Susan kept hoping Tyler would drop by to say goodbye, although she understood she’d hurt him. Trust her—she was an abysmal failure when it came to love, relationships. Maybe she’d concentrate on work and find another couple of interests to fill in her loneliness. A heavy sigh emerged and she powered up her laptop to write her final Clare blog post.
