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“Of what, exactly? My son enjoying himself at day care or spending quality time with his mother?” Lizzie met Mrs. Smith’s gaze. “What do you want?”
“I merely thought—”
Lizzie wasn’t done. “You never merely do anything, Miranda. Why are you here?”
Miranda took out the pictures and fanned them out on the table. “He looks a lot like Ray did as a child.”
“To me, he resembles his Polish grandfather for whom he was named.”
Miranda looked up. “You’ve become very . . . hostile, Elizabeth.”
“Hostile?” Lizzie smiled. “Not at all. I have a great life and a beautiful son. What more could I want? I’m happy, Miranda, I really am.”
Miranda gathered up the photographs and put them away. “As to that—I’ve been wondering whether we were a little too hasty in refusing to meet your sweet little boy.”
Lizzie had to let that pile of crap sink in before she could form a reasonable reply. “We? I don’t remember trying to stop you, your son, or your family from having access to my child. You told me I was a classless gold digger who had tried to entrap Ray into marriage. You refused to have anything to do with Roman or me.”
“I was upset.” Miranda looked down at her perfect fingernails. “Your pregnancy came out of nowhere. We’d never even been introduced. I instinctively supported my son as any mother would.”
Lizzie sat back and considered her companion. “Just out of curiosity, did he claim I was lying about the whole thing?” One look at Miranda’s face told her everything she needed to know. “Of course he did.” Lizzie nodded. “Your son has a problem accepting responsibility for anything, doesn’t he?”
“That’s hardly fair. He’s matured into a fine man.”
“Good for him.” Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “Are we done yet? I’m meeting someone for lunch.”
“Done?” Miranda looked shocked. “I haven’t even told you what I’d like to propose.”
“Maybe I’m not interested in hearing anything you have to say,” Lizzie said sweetly. “Originally, I was devastated that your family wanted nothing to do with Roman, but as time’s gone by, I’ve realized that maybe it was a blessing in disguise.”
She rose to her feet and pushed her chair in. “You lost your chance, Miranda, and you’re the loser in this because Roman is the most amazing kid in the entire world.”
Turning toward the door, she saw that Adam had just come in, and was staring in her direction. She stalked over to him and kept walking.
“I need to get out of here.”
“Okay.” He obediently turned around and followed her out, his searching gaze fixed on her face. “Are you all right?”
“No, I am not all right!” Lizzie seethed. “How dare she . . .”
* * *
Adam took Lizzie’s hand and steered her across the road toward her apartment, aware that she was trembling, and keen to get her to a safe place where she could vent. The moment she reached her kitchen, she spun around to face him and he instinctively backed up a step.
“That was Ray’s mom.”
“Ah,” Adam said. He’d never seen her this angry before, and was more than willing to let her do all the talking.
“Coretta’s been sending photos of Roman to her, and now she suddenly turns up saying she might have been a bit hasty in casting us out from the family.” Lizzie took a rapid turn around the room.
“Well, she’s right about that,” Adam agreed. “Did she say what she wanted to do about it?”
“No, because by that point—after she’d all but agreed that Ray suggested the child might not be his—I wasn’t really in the mood to be pleasant to her.”
Inwardly Adam cringed. “I thought you wanted Roman to get to know his family.”
“I did! I do!” Lizzie said. “But seeing her sitting there suddenly being all nice about Roman just stuck in my craw.”
“I understand that, but—”
Lizzie rounded on him. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, of course,” Adam said patiently. “And, when you calm down you’ll realize that—”
