Then she glanced around at the room, the dark, gleaming wood, the chandeliers and candlelight. Then she looked at me and examined my suit. She straightened my tie, though it didn’t really need straightening. “She has good taste.”
“She does.”
She sipped her drink, and glanced in Lex’s direction. “Please don’t tell me you invited Laurinda.”
I raised an eyebrow and took a sip of my champagne. “You think I would?”
“Who knows. I’d just like to know what I’m in for.”
“This is about it.” I looked around at the crowd. “I think everyone’s here. And no, I didn’t invite her. I haven’t spoken with her yet.”
“Yet? You mean, since finding out that… she…” My mother smoothed her dress, looking uncomfortable as she averted her eyes. “She gave birth to you,” she concluded awkwardly.
“She’s my mother, you mean,” I said. And her eyes met mine.
“Is that how you see it?”
“You’ll always be my mother, Mom. Nothing changes that.”
I could’ve sworn I saw a little gleam of something like tears in her eyes. Maybe it was just the candlelight. “I do love you, Dane,” she said, as if that was ever in question.
“I know.”
“You won’t speak to her?” she asked me.
“Do you want me to speak to her?”
“I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable doing.” She sighed a little. “Dane, I did plan to tell you one day.”
“What, when I was fifty? Or maybe when she was dead?”
She frowned. “No. Much sooner than that. I thought I’d tell you when you turned eighteen. But you were in Vancouver, and then you were so angry when you came back to Toronto, after high school… And then I thought I’d tell you when you turned twenty-one. But you were so volatile in college. You were trying to figure out who you were. I was always… a little afraid of losing you.”
“Mom. What did you think I was going to do? Go run off with Laurinda and the mob?”
“No.” She sighed again. “I don’t know. Your cousin…” She darted a glance at Lex. “Your brother, I mean,” she said, apologetically. “He ran off and joined a biker gang. You just never know.”
“Do I seem like the biker type?” I sipped my champagne as she looked me over.
“Of course not, son. But I thought you might never forgive me. Sons have done worse to hurt their mothers, when wronged.”
“You didn’t wrong me. You did everything you thought was right for me. You shouldn’t have lied to me, though.”
“I know.” Yup. Her eyes were definitely glistening now. She took another sip of her drink to try to cover it.
“Mom. You don’t need to worry about this. I’m not ditching you for Laurinda. And I forgive you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said simply, like she was glad to have the conversation over with. I doubted she’d ever bring it up again, if I didn’t.
“For the record, though, I think Grandmother made a mistake there.” I lifted my chin toward Lex.
“I disagree,” she said sharply. “And I’d think twice about forking over any of your money to him. You want to fund a criminal? That’s exactly what you’d be doing.”
“Those are the sins of his father. They’re not Lex’s sins. He wants nothing to do with the mafia. Where would I be if you all damned me because of my father’s sins?”
“Where, indeed?” my mother mused. “Don’t judge your grandmother so harshly, Dane. She’s much more reasonable than you seem to think. She offered Lex an inheritance. They spoke while he was in Toronto.”
“They did?”
