Almost Perfect

by Susan Mallery

  Liz remembered the pretty blonde from high school. “It’s so great to see you,” she said with a laugh.

  Crystal smiled and hugged Liz. “Hmm, I thought you’d be sending me a cut of your royalties. Who do I talk to about that?”

  Pia glanced between them. “I didn’t know the two of you were friends. Crystal was three years ahead of me in high school, so she was what? Two years ahead of you, Liz?”

  Crystal linked arms with Liz and grinned. “I met Liz in our senior creative writing class. Even though she was a lowly sophomore, our teacher thought she had talent and invited her.”

  Crystal had been the only student who would speak to Liz. All the others had resented her presence and basically ignored her. A few of the girls had made mean comments about Liz’s clothes, while two of the guys had hounded her about her reputation.

  But in the creative writing class, Liz had done her best to ignore all that. She’d found she could forget everything in the writing process.

  Each of the students had to write a short story every three weeks, then read it aloud. The first time, Liz had been terrified. While the teacher had offered glowing praise, the class had been silent when she’d finished. Feeling embarrassed and exposed, Liz had slunk back to her seat.

  But at lunch that day, Crystal had sought her out and told her the story was amazing. That the other students had been silent out of shock, or maybe jealousy. Crystal had encouraged her to keep writing.

  Four years later, when she was alone with a baby and terrified in San Francisco, she’d remembered Crystal’s words and had signed up for a writing class. While she’d begun with another short story, eventually it had become a novel which had turned into her first published book and the beginning of her professional writing career.

  “Crystal told me I had talent,” Liz admitted. “No one had believed in me before.”

  Crystal squeezed her arm and laughed. “I’m an angel in disguise. Now if only I could perform a miracle or two on myself, right?”

  Liz didn’t know what she was talking about, but she saw pain flash through Pia’s eyes and Jo turned away, as if uncomfortable with the words.

  Crystal didn’t seem to notice. Instead she released Liz and smiled at Melissa. “Hello. Do you have any idea where the snacks are? I’m starving.”

  “Right in here,” Melissa said shyly. “I can show you.”

  “That would be great.”

  They walked away. Before Liz could ask what Crystal’s comment had meant, Jo held up a very industrial-looking blender.

  “I need a plug and some counter space,” she announced. “I’m saying upfront that while I disapprove of fruit drinks on principle, I’m making an exception tonight. I’ve come up with a mango-strawberry margarita that is going to make you all worship me.”

  “I’m glad I bought extra ice,” Liz told her as she led the way into the kitchen. “I’ll get glasses. Will everyone have margaritas?”

  “Not me,” Crystal declined as she walked into the kitchen behind Jo.

  “I’ll make yours without tequila,” Jo said easily.

  “You’re very good to me.”

  “Don’t let word get out.”

  Crystal laughed, then picked up a tray of veggies. “Should I take these out to everyone?”

  As she turned, the light caught her full in the face. Liz was shocked to see dark shadows under her eyes and a gray cast to her skin. It hadn’t been noticeable in the kinder light of the living room, but under the glaring fluorescents, she looked drawn and sick.

  Liz did her best to keep her shock from showing. “That would be great,” she responded. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, and Melissa went upstairs. I think we scared her, which makes me feel bad.”

  When Crystal had returned to the living room, Jo glanced at Liz, obviously reading her expression. “Crystal’s sick. Cancer. She’s been fighting awhile, but she’s not winning.”

  Liz felt as if someone had hit her in the gut. “Oh my God. No. She’s too young.”

  “Cancer doesn’t seem to care about that. You okay?”

  Liz nodded, although her stomach churned, as if she was going to be sick.

  Jo picked up a pitcher of mix and dumped it over the ice in the blender, then poured in a generous amount of tequila. “Prepare to watch the lights dim,” she called and turned on the blender.

  Less than a minute later, Liz was pouring the slushy concoction into glasses. She took them into the living room where the other women had claimed seats on the worn sofa and the floor. Someone had pulled in battered chairs from the dining room. She did her best to smile and keep things normal. Everyone else was. Apparently that’s how Crystal wanted things.

  Dakota and Nevada sat together; but Montana jumped up the second Liz entered.

  “I was telling everyone about the signing.”

  Pia rolled her eyes. “Montana, I swear. You’re as subtle as an elephant. We agreed not to bug Liz about the signing.”

  Crystal looked up from her place nestled in the corner of the couch. “Don’t you like signings?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here,” Liz admitted.

  Conversation shifted to events in town. There was talk of the new hospital being built and rumors about ex-football star Raoul Moreno moving to town.

  “He’s very good-looking,” Montana said with a sigh.

  “Interested?” her sister Dakota asked.

  “Not for me, but maybe we could fix him up with Liz and she would be so grateful, she’d do the signing.”

  Pia groaned and leaned back against the wall. “You have a one-track mind.”

  Dakota laughed. “She’s the stubborn one. And before any of the rumors get out of hand, yes, Raoul is thinking of settling here in Fool’s Gold. He likes the small-town feel.”

  Topics shifted to other people, the general lack of men and what was being done about bringing more of them to town. Charity Jones, the new city planner, was teased about capturing the heart of Josh Golden, the last great eligible bachelor. Although everyone seemed comfortable with Raoul Moreno claiming the title. Liz thought about pointing out that Ethan was single, but was afraid it would stir up memories of their very public breakup all those years ago.

  The talk was comfortable, if not exactly familiar, Liz thought. Growing up, she’d never felt as if she were part of the community, but maybe some of that was her fault. Sitting in the living room where she’d lived, getting slightly buzzed on margaritas, hanging out with women she hadn’t seen in years, she felt a sense of loss. That maybe the friends she’d been looking for all those years ago had been right in front of her. If only she’d bothered to look.

  Not Pia, she thought, watching the now charming woman laugh at something Crystal said. Their relationship had been a little too “mean girl” for her liking. But what about Crystal or even Ethan’s sisters?

  Her experiences in high school had made her cautious about making friends with other women. But maybe she’d been too quick to walk away from something important. Something she’d realized she was missing.

  Her gaze slipped to Crystal who, despite her illness, appeared happy and content. Talk about having character. Liz had a feeling she was more the curl-up-and-whimper type.

  “Am I allowed to ask how you started writing?” Montana inquired, interrupting Liz’s thoughts. “That’s not the same as talking about the signing.”

  Liz laughed. “You’re right. It’s not even close.”

  “Tell her it’s because of me you’re famous,” Crystal called out.

  “It’s true,” Liz agreed. “Crystal told me I had talent and to never forget that.”

  Pia was next to her friend and grabbed her hand. “You’re such a good person. It’s intimidating. Tell me again, why do I like you?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Seriously,” Montana pressed. “How did you start?”

  “I wrote a short story about a man who was murdered and found I couldn’t l
et the idea go,” Liz explained. “It kept getting bigger in my mind.”

  She left out the part about the cathartic nature of killing Ethan over and over again. At least in fiction. It was kind of a writer thing and she doubted anyone else would understand that it didn’t mean she was dangerous or creepy.

  “I was alone with a baby and I couldn’t afford cable,” she continued. “Writing felt like a way to escape the pressure.”

  Crystal turned to her. “Where did you go when you left here?”

  “San Francisco.”

  Liz had the feeling there were going to be more questions but just then Jo appeared with another pitcher of margaritas and the conversation shifted to the various summer festivals. Montana grinned at Liz.

  “If you would just agree to sign,” she began, “we would have the best festival ever.”

  It was one book signing, Liz thought. She did them all the time. So what if it was here? She could handle a couple of hours at a table, talking to her fans. And Liz appreciated that Montana was the only Hendrix still speaking to her.

  “Sure,” she said.

  Montana straightened. “Seriously?”

  “Why not? I’d love to.”

  Even if she wasn’t still living in Fool’s Gold, she could drive in for the day. Tyler could hang out with his dad, her nieces could see their friends and then they would all go back to San Francisco, where life was normal and people standing in the grocery store didn’t know anything about you.

  An hour later, Liz went to check on the kids. As she stood, she had to steady herself for a second. Her balance felt off—apparently she’d been drinking more than she’d realized. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused as a burst of loud laughter filled the room. She grinned. She wasn’t the only one who was feeling the alcohol. Good thing everyone was walking home.

  After confirming all three of her charges were totally engrossed in their movie, she returned to the kitchen, opened the last few packages of cookies and dumped them on two plates. Normally she would arrange them neatly, but right now that seemed impossible.

  Pia walked into the kitchen. “I don’t know how Crystal stands us. She’s the only one not drinking.”

  Liz looked up, her sense of contentment fading. “Jo mentioned she was sick.”

  “She’s dying,” Pia said flatly. “Today she doesn’t look like it, but she is. They’ve given her less than six months. She’s working with hospice. This is the first time she’s been out of her apartment in a week. She’s living on painkillers.”

  “I’m sorry,” Liz whispered, the gut-clenching returning.

  “Me, too. She’s a good friend.” Pia drew in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it. Knowing I’m losing her is impossible and makes me cry. As drunk as I am, I probably won’t stop for hours and no one wants that. Least of all Crystal.”

  Liz nodded and had to swallow before she could speak. “Are you up to carrying in a plate of cookies?”

  Pia eyed the plate doubtfully. “What happens if I drop them?”

  “They fall?”

  She smiled. “I can make an effort.” But instead of reaching for the plate, she leaned against a counter. “Why didn’t you come back? When you found out you were pregnant?”

  Not a question Liz wanted to answer. “It wasn’t an option.”

  “Of course it was. Even if your mom wouldn’t have taken you in, there was still Ethan and his family. You shouldn’t have kept his kid from him. It wasn’t very nice.”

  It was one thing to be yelled at by an older woman she didn’t know, but it was quite another to have Pia O’Brian passing judgments on her.

  “And that’s the whole story?” Liz asked, trying to stay calm and keep her voice low.

  Pia rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It’s not as if you tried to tell him.”

  “You’re wrong,” Liz told her, planting her hands on her hips. “I did come back. Pretty much as soon as I found out I was pregnant. I’d been gone all of three weeks. You’d think after how in love he claimed to be he would have waited to replace me, but no. He was in his little apartment over the garage. Naked. In bed with someone.” She narrowed her gaze. “He was in bed with you, Pia.”

  Pia slipped and had to grab onto the counter to stay upright. Her mouth dropped open. “No,” she breathed.

  “Am I wrong?”

  Pia winced. “I did get him into bed, but it’s not what you think.”

  “You weren’t trying to have sex with him?”

  “Okay, yes. It was that, but I…” Pia shook her head, then swore. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  Liz waited. “Didn’t mean what? To take him?”

  “You were gone. Plus, I wasn’t completely sure the two of you were actually dating. Josh said something that one time and Ethan denied everything.”

  Not an afternoon Liz cared to remember. It had been difficult enough working as a waitress in the one place the popular kids liked to hang out, but it had been sheer torture being there when Ethan came home from college and they started seeing each other. They’d both agreed it was better if no one knew about them. He had his family’s reputation to think about. After all, he was a Hendrix.

  Liz had been young enough and foolish enough to think that was a good reason to slink around behind everyone’s back. Today she wouldn’t bother. Either a man wanted to be with her or he didn’t. But back then she’d been so grateful to have someone care about her. Especially Ethan.

  Ethan who was accepted everywhere he went. Ethan who had a family that was always sober and kind and respectable. Ethan’s mother didn’t show up at the grocery store drunk and talk about being with other women’s husbands.

  Liz had never actually met Ethan’s father, but she heard him speak once, at a fundraiser to refurbish the city park. He’d been stern, but eloquent as he talked about duty and responsibility and how as citizens of the town, everyone had to participate and give of themselves. She’d been drawn to the man and intimidated. After seeing him, she knew why Ethan didn’t want anyone to know they were involved. Ralph Hendrix wouldn’t have approved.

  Then Josh had mentioned seeing the two of them together and another friend had called her a whore. Ethan had not only denied they were dating, he’d said he wasn’t so desperate as to need to be with someone like her.

  Pouring a milk shake over his head and walking out hadn’t healed the wound in her heart.

  She didn’t want to remember any of this, Liz thought grimly. She didn’t want to be here, dealing with her past. The people, the memories, her complete inability to feel as if she’d made progress emotionally were just a few of the reasons she’d never wanted to come back.

  “Your relationship with Ethan doesn’t matter,” she stated, turning away from Pia. “My point is, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about when it comes to my son, and you need to remember that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Liz nodded.

  “I mean that. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Liz declared facing her again, trying not to see the regret in Pia’s eyes.

  Pia opened her mouth, then closed it. “I really am sorry,” she whispered, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Liz alone.

  If the buzzing in Liz’s head wasn’t enough to tell her that she wasn’t going to have a good time come morning, the tightness in her chest hinted that a hangover might very well be the least of her problems.

  Damn this town, she thought as she grabbed the cookies and braced herself to return to the party.

  LIZ WOKE UP WITH A MILDER headache than she deserved and a determination to put together a plan to get out of Fool’s Gold as quickly as possible. The house was the biggest problem. What to do with it. Keeping it for the girls was a possibility. As a rental, it could provide income and the value would increase over time. Although that would require fixing up the place. Selling it presented the same fix-up dilemma. Maybe the best place to start was to speak with a
Realtor. Get some actual numbers and see what made the most sense.

  As much as she wanted to pack her car and run, she knew she couldn’t. There were Roy’s girls to think of. Melissa and Abby wouldn’t want to move. They’d already lost their dad and stepmom. Their home was all they had.

  But she couldn’t stay here, she thought, feeling desperate. It was a twisted kind of hell for her. Which meant what? Endure the town as long as she could and give the girls more time to adjust to her and moving?

  Not a decision she could make without a second cup of coffee.

  She made her way to the kitchen. Melissa was on the phone with one of her friends and Abby had gone next door to play. Tyler was with his father. She got out the phone book and called a couple real estate offices from her cell.

  An hour later, she’d confirmed what she’d already guessed. No one would commit without seeing the house in person, but the consensus was for rental property and fixing up was required. A sale could be “as is” but that seriously cut down on the number of interested buyers as well as the price.

  Liz had a feeling the house was all the girls could expect to get from their father. Her gut said that fixing it up and then renting it made the most sense. Let the property value increase while Melissa and Abby were growing. If they wanted to sell it later, they could. She could even pay for the renovations herself.

  She got out a pad of paper and started making a list. She would have to get an attorney to draw up a title transfer. Roy had said he wanted to put the house in the girls’ names. Fortunately, Bettina wasn’t on the title, so she wasn’t going to be a complication.

  Liz wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, then headed for her computer. Maybe she could get in a couple of pages before Abby and Tyler returned.

  Her timing was off. She’d barely clicked on her word processing program when her son flew into the house. He bounced onto the sofa next to her, then threw his arms around her.

  “How are you?” she asked, hugging him back and kissing his forehead.