Free Reclaim My Heart by Donna Fasano Page B

the parks or wooded areas. And I can’t ever remember seeing a firefly in the postage-stamp piece of grass I call a yard.”
    She went quiet.
    “What’s all this about, Tyne?”
    Still, she didn’t look at him. “Just thinking.”
    He didn’t respond, figuring she’d elaborate in her own good time. Or not. Pressing her would only lead to trouble.
    She picked up the bottle took a long drink, and then set it back down on the table. “I’ve been trying to figure out where I we Cut ay snt wrong. Was it that I raised Zach in the City? Could I have avoided all this—spray paint, police stations, court appearances, that god-awful dressing down by the judge—if I had brought him back home and raised him here?”
    “Tyne, people live and raise their kids where they can find work. You’ve made a success of yourself living in Philly.”
    She muttered, “To my son’s detriment.”
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
    She seemed stone deaf to his advice.
    “Did he get into this trouble because I fed him too much sugar as a child? Or because I wasn’t watching close enough when he was three and he stuck a bobby pin in that electric outlet? Or because I tried to do it all on my own? Because I left him with sitters? Because I put him in day-care too early?”
    Her large and beseeching eyes tore at his heart.
    “Tyne, Zach is a good kid. You’ve done a good job. Okay, so he got into a little trouble. In the grand scheme of things, spray painting graffiti isn’t all that serious. We’ll get through this.”
    Her breath left her in a rush and she turned to stare off at the horizon.
    “You did the best you could. No one can ask more of you than that. I’m confident that you fed him right, took him to the doctor when he was sick, made sure he was inoculated against all manner of disease, made him do his homework. And I’m sure you only left him with people you trusted.” He couldn’t stop his grin. “Did he really stick a bobby pin in an outlet?”
    She nodded miserably.
    He wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “Lots of teens go through a rebellious period. I know I did. This trouble Zach’s in has nothing to do with where you chose to live, or that you’re a single mom, or that he might have eaten one too many donuts.”
    She planted her elbow on the table, pressed her fist to her mouth.
    “He probably would have experienced this defiant stage no matter where you raised him.” Lucas rolled the bottom of the bottle against the wood of the tabletop, the foamy beer sloshing against the inside of the glass. “We can’t even say that things would be different had I been in the picture from the beginning.”
    She rubbed her fingers against her temple. “Every mother wants a perfect family for her child.”
    “There’s no such thing as a perfect family, Tyne. Every person—every parent—has quirks. No one is faultless. No family is perfectly ideal.”
    “But maybe if he’d had—”
    “Stop.” He paused and spoke her name, and then he waited several long seconds for her to look at him. “You grew up in the supposedly-perfect, nuclear family. One dad. One mom. One daughter.”
    “Big house,” she took up the litany, “big yard, and more things than any one little girl ever needed.” She scooted her bottom against the bench. “And I was utterly miserable.”
    Lucas left the bottle next to hers so he could lift his leg over the bench to sit closer to her. “I never even met my mother. And my father died when I was really young. I don’t remember a whole lot about him. But I still remember my childhood as being very happy. I’d put my uncle up against any mom and dad team out there.”
    Her mouth twisted wryly. “You were lucky.”
    The scent of wild roses drifted on the slight evening breeze.
    His elbows on the table, Lucas laced his fingers and rested his chin on them. “It’s not about who raises kids, Tyne. I mean, not that I know all that much about it. But logic tells me that what’s more important