Almost Perfect (11 page)

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.

 

L
IZ 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.

“Good. Dad had doughnuts and he only let me eat two. And I saw the new designs for a windmill. Dad says it's going to be more energy efficient. And he really liked the card I gave him.”

Tyler continued to relive his morning in real time. Nearly every other sentence began with “Dad says.” Liz told herself this was all good news, even as she felt a little less important in her son's life.

A fleeting emotion, she told herself. One that would pass.

“Then Dad said it was your fault that I don't know him because you kept me from him. Dad says you were wrong not to let us be together.”

Liz nearly fell out of her chair. “Excuse me?” she asked.

Tyler's eyes got big and he looked worried. “He wasn't mad when he said it, Mom. Don't be mad.”

Don't be mad? Don't be mad when she was doing everything she could to bring father and son together and Ethan was going behind her back, trying to make her look guilty? Had he bothered to mention how badly he'd treated her twelve years ago? Or the fact that she'd come back to tell him about his kid and his wife had been the one to keep them apart? Of course not.

“It's fine, I was just surprised,” she said, forcing a smile. She glanced at her watch. “I thought we'd go to the pool later. And Montana wants me to bring you by the library to look at some new books they got in.”

His face brightened. “Can we go now?”

“Sure. Why don't you tell Melissa, so she knows. And I want to make a quick call.”

“Okay.”

He raced upstairs. When she heard his feet thunder
ing overhead, she picked up her cell and Ethan's business card. She was put through to him immediately.

“We have to talk,” she said by way of greeting. “Now.”

He hesitated. “I have an appointment.”

“I don't give a damn.”

“Okay. Starbucks in fifteen minutes?”

“Fine.” She hung up.

 

S
HE LEFT
T
YLER WITH
M
ONTANA
at the library and promised to be back in half an hour. What she had to say wouldn't take more than a few minutes.

Ethan was already sitting outside when she got there. An umbrella shaded him from the bright sun.

“What's up?” he asked, looking tall and handsome and annoyingly confused. “You sounded upset.”

She ignored the way her body reacted to the sight of him, not wanting to remember what being with him had been like. Better that she remembered all the ways she'd killed him in her books. And the even more painful way she would kill him in the next one. It was what he deserved, the bastard.

“What were you thinking?” she began. “We're supposed to be working together. At least that's what you said. I'll accept that you're mad at me. Fine. But don't you dare talk about me with my son. You had no right to tell him it was my fault that you and Tyler don't know each other and that I was wrong to keep him
from you. Do you think you're helping your cause? Not only does it make me regret ever coming back, it makes me know I can't trust you at all.”

His body tensed. “He told you.”

“Of course he told me. I'm his mother. He tells me everything.” She was fighting blinding fury. “Did it make you feel all manly to crap all over me in front of my kid?”

“No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. We were talking about what he usually does in the summer and on his birthday and all I could think was how much I'd missed. I lost it.”

“Not much of an excuse,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice low. “Do you think you can come between Tyler and me?”

“No. That's not what I was trying to do.” He stared into her eyes. “I swear, Liz, I'm sorry. I reacted. It was stupid.”

“You say that to me, but did you bother saying it to Tyler?” She waited. He shook his head. “Figures. You're playing us, Ethan. And that's a huge mistake. No one will win that game.”

“I'm not trying to come between you.”

She held his gaze. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Probably not.” He sucked in a breath. “I was mad.”

“You're mad all the time.”

“I have a good reason.”

She leaned toward him. “Yes, you do. And you also know I'm not as much the devil as you first thought.”

“I'm sorry, Liz. I was an idiot,” he apologized, sounding as if he meant it.

It was easier to believe that rather than think he was deliberately trying to undermine her, but easier didn't necessarily mean right.

“You want me punished,” she said, her voice quieter. “You need to get over that.”

He drew in a breath. “I know.”

 

E
THAN
DID
KNOW, BUT SOMETIMES
it was damn hard not to react. He'd lost so much and even though it wasn't all Liz's fault, it was tough not to blame her.

She stared at him, her green eyes flashing with anger, her mouth set with determination. She would take him on, if necessary. He wanted to say she couldn't win, but he wasn't sure that was true. She had eleven years' worth of a relationship with Tyler. He'd known his kid all of two weeks.

Bitterness threatened, but he pushed it away. She was right—he had to think before he spoke.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated.

She sighed. “I guess I have to at least pretend to believe you.”

“You could try actually believing me.”

“Don't push it.”

“I was wrong.”

“Yes, you were.” She shook her head. “Okay. I'll do my best to let it go. Just don't do that again. We have to work together. If we don't, the person who gets hurt the most is Tyler. You're everything he's ever wanted. You don't have to destroy me in order to make him love you.”

Ethan stiffened. “That's not what I was doing.”

“Wasn't it?”

He hesitated. “Maybe. This is really new for me. I'm reacting, rather than thinking.”

“I'm doing my best to understand that.”

She sounded as if she didn't want to, which irritated him. Then he told himself it was time to stop being angry. Liz was right—they did have to work together.

“I'd better get back to the library,” she said. “I don't want your sister thinking I've abandoned Tyler.”

He pushed to his feet, then grabbed her hand.

Her fingers were warm. Touching her reminded him of the last time they'd been together. Of how, despite everything, the passion was still there, lurking. Heating. Making him want in a way he hadn't in a long time. There had been other women. He'd even gotten married. But there had been no one like Liz.

Something hot flared in her eyes. She gave him a brief smile. “You're trouble. You know that, right?”

He grinned. “One of my best qualities.”

“A debate for another time.”

He thought about kissing her, about leaning in and tasting her again.

A complication neither of them needed, he told himself as she squeezed his fingers then walked away. There were still too many other issues to work through. But he wouldn't say no to more alone time with her, he thought, watching her walk away.

“What was that all about?”

He turned and saw his mother walking toward him. She had a shopping bag in each hand.

He took the bags from her and set them on a chair. “Liz and I were talking about Tyler.”

His mother's gaze sharpened as she studied his face. “Is that all? It looked like more to me. You're not starting something with her, are you, Ethan? After what she did to you? To all of us?”

His reaction was instinctive. “Don't worry. Liz doesn't matter to me at all. There's nothing between us.”

“It's good to know that some things never change.”

But the words weren't spoken by his mother. He turned to his right and saw Liz standing just behind him. Her expression was unreadable, but he saw a flash of pain in her eyes.

“In case I was wondering,” she added, picking up the keys she'd left on the table.

She turned on her heel and was gone.

L
IZ WAS STILL SHAKING AS SHE
climbed the three steps to the library. She told herself it didn't matter. That Ethan had to say that to Denise. It wasn't as if his mother was a fan. Besides, there wasn't anything else to tell the woman. But in her gut, Liz felt just as dismissed and hurt as she had twelve years before—when Ethan had denied their relationship to all his friends.

She might have had a child with him, and slept with him and still be fighting feelings from the past, but the bottom line was, she couldn't trust him. Not ever. He couldn't escape his family name and reputation anymore than she could.

She reached for the front door and pulled it open. A woman with a stroller smiled. “Thanks for the help,” she said.

“You're welcome.”

The twenty-something woman pushed the stroller through the door, then turned back.

“Are you Liz Sutton? I thought I recognized your picture from your books.”

Liz nodded cautiously.

The woman's warm smile faded. “My sister went to high school with you. When she told me that you were the class slut, I didn't want to believe her. But now that I've heard what you did to poor Ethan Hendrix, I know every word is true. I'll never read your books again.”

Hit number three, Liz thought, standing in the sunlight, determined not to go inside until she was sure she wasn't going to cry.

She told herself the young mother didn't know her. That other people's opinions had no meaning. That the truth was much less clear than most people realized. All of which was bullshit, she thought, finally stepping into the cool darkness of the library.

As soon as they got back to the house, she was getting out the phone book, she promised herself. She would get bids on fixing up the house and pay whatever premium was required to get the work done quickly. When the house was finished, she would take the girls and Tyler, return to San Francisco and never, ever come back to this hellhole.

 

T
HE ONLY BRIGHT SPOT IN AN
otherwise hideous morning had been Montana's enthusiasm over the book signing. Ethan's sister had insisted on showing Liz the initial design for the posters and all the Internet postings. Montana swore people would drive into town from hundreds of miles away, just to meet Liz and have her sign books. Liz was less sure of her popularity, but it beat being verbally spit at by the locals.

She helped Tyler carry his armload of books into the house. He'd picked out several he thought Abby might like, which Liz appreciated. After sending him to his room to play computer games for an hour, she called Melissa and Abby into the living room.

The two girls sat on the sofa. They looked impossibly young, she thought, wishing things had been different for them. However much she might currently hate her own life, what Abby and Melissa were feeling was ten times worse. They were just kids who didn't deserve what had happened to them.

She sat on the coffee table in front of the couch and leaned toward the girls.

“I'm going to fix up the house,” she began. “Your dad started a lot of projects, but I don't know how to finish them. So unless one of you is holding out some secret contractor knowledge, I'll be hiring a team to finish the work.”

Melissa looked wary, but Abby smiled. “I can help.”

“I'm sure you can.”

“What happens after the house is finished?” Melissa asked.

Not the question Liz wanted to answer. “We're going back to San Francisco.”

Melissa and Abby exchanged a look. Tears filled Abby's eyes while Melissa started shaking her head.

“No, we're not,” she announced. “We're staying here. We live here.”

“I know it will be hard,” Liz began.

“It doesn't have to be.” Melissa stood up. Her face
was red, her eyes bright with tears she blinked away. “We'll run away. We don't need you.”

Abby stood, too, then leaned into Liz who hugged her close.

“I'm sorry,” Liz murmured into her hair, hanging on tight. “I'm sorry.”

“W-what does Dad say?” Abby asked in a whisper.

“That you're going to stay with me.”

Abby raised her head. “He doesn't want us, does he? No one wants us.”

“I want you,” Liz assured, wishing she had the power to take away their pain and make them feel safe. “No matter what, we'll be together. Your dad being in prison isn't about you. It's about him. If he wasn't there, he'd still be here.”

“With us. Where we belong,” Melissa snapped. “In our house. You're going to sell it, aren't you? And take all the money.”

Liz continued to hold Abby, but turned her attention to the teenager. “I'm going to fix it up. Then the three of us will sit down with a real estate agent and discuss the benefits of renting it versus selling outright. Either way the money will go into trust for both of you. For when you're older. This isn't about taking anything from you and I think you know that.”

“You're taking away everything,” Melissa said, losing her battle with the tears. They spilled down her cheeks. She brushed them away and glared at Liz. “You can't do this to us.”

“Tyler and I can't stay here. San Francisco isn't so far away. You'll be able to visit your friends.”

“How?” Melissa asked.

“Tyler will be coming back to see his dad. You can come with him. I'm not trying to make this worse. We need to settle in to being a family. I want that. You girls are important to me.”

“I'm not going,” Melissa said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can't make me.”

Abby stared at Liz. “I want to be with you.”

Liz kissed her forehead. “I'm glad. I want you to keep in touch with your friends. We'll work on that. Okay?”

Abby nodded.

“She's lying,” Melissa told her sister. “She doesn't care about us at all.”

“If she didn't care, she'd just leave,” Abby noted, still holding on to Liz. “Like Bettina did. We don't have a choice. There's no one else.”

The simple words spoken with the wisdom of a child, broke Liz's heart. No eleven-year-old should have to be so keenly aware of life's unpleasant realities. Tyler was the same age and he didn't know anything about how the dark side of the world operated.

“I want to make it work,” Liz reiterated to Melissa.

“I'm not leaving,” Melissa told her and walked out.

“She'll get over it,” Abby said, stepping back. “It'll take a while, but she will. She was scared when we were alone before.”

“Weren't you?”

“Yeah, but I had someone taking care of me. She didn't have anyone.”

“I'm sorry,” Liz apologized. “I wish I'd known about you before.”

“Me, too.”

 

A
FTER LUNCH, THE FOUR OF THEM
went to the community pool. They found a cool spot in the shade. Liz leaned against a tree, opened her laptop and prayed for inspiration. Technically her deadline was generous enough that she wasn't exactly behind. Not yet. But give it another few weeks and she would feel the panic.

While her computer booted up, she gazed around the pool, taking in the other mothers and kids. Most of them seemed to know each other. One of the blessings—and curses—of small-town life.

She turned her attention to Tyler, spotting him easily from years of practice, then finding Melissa and Abby. Their red hair made them stand out in the crowd. A good thing, she told herself. After the morning she'd had, she was due for a break or two.

The streak didn't last. Five seconds later, someone spoke her name.

“Liz.”

She didn't have to look up to recognize Ethan, who was very possibly the last person she wanted to see right now. Or ever.

“Tyler told me that you'd be here after lunch.”

She kept her gaze firmly on her screen. With practiced ease, she opened her word processing program, then loaded the book in progress.

He dropped to the grass next to her. “Did I mention that I'm sorry?”

Grateful for the big hat she'd pulled on and the sunglasses shielding her eyes, she turned toward him. At least she didn't have to worry about him seeing she was more hurt than angry. He wouldn't know about the bitter taste of betrayal on her tongue or the lingering sense of having been hit in the gut.

“I didn't mean for you to hear that,” he explained.

“Right. So you're apologizing for me hearing it but not for saying it. Thanks for the clarification.”

His gaze sharpened. “That's not what I meant.”

“Isn't it? It's what you said.”

“Dammit, Liz, give me a break.”

“Why? You spent the first part of the morning telling Tyler that it's my fault you and he don't know each other and the hour before noon telling your mother that I don't mean anything to you. I wasn't expecting you to declare I was the love of your life, but a little respect would have been nice.”

“You're right.”

“But that was too much. Instead you threw me under the bus. I'm not even surprised. You've done it before.”

His gaze never left her face. “Why is it you get to tell me to stop bringing up the past, but you get to do it as much as you want?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She was angry and hurt and didn't want to admit he had a point. One she was going to ignore.

“We slept together, Ethan. We didn't plan it, but it happened. We have a child together. You can't say we're on the same team to my face, then undermine me every chance you get.”

He drew in a breath. “I know. I'm sorry. I keep saying that and I mean it. Everything is different. Complicated. I'm trying to figure out what happens next.”

“What happens next is we come up with a plan. A way for you to spend time with Tyler.”

“I am spending time with him.”

Despite the fact that he couldn't see her eyes, she looked away. “For later,” she clarified. “When I go back to San Francisco.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. “You're leaving? When?”

“I'm not sure. I want to fix up the house. I'm hiring a contractor to do the work. Then we're leaving.” She turned back to him and pulled off her sunglasses. “This isn't about keeping you from Tyler, I swear. We'll do alternating weekends, share holidays.”

“I don't want you to leave.”

“That's not an option. I can't live here. I have a life I need to get back to. A job.”

“You can write anywhere.”

“You speak from experience?” she asked, her voice sharp with annoyance. “I hate it here. Everyone is very
comfortable getting in my face about my past and they don't know what they're talking about. I don't see anyone blaming you. I want you to know your son. I want you to be a part of things, but whatever plan we come up with isn't going to include me staying here. When the house is finished, we're all leaving.”

Ethan stared at her for a long time. She tried to read his expression but couldn't tell what he was thinking. He wasn't happy, but it hardly took insight to figure that out.

Finally he stood. “Thanks for the update,” he said at last.

“You're pissed.”

“You're stealing him from me. Again.”

“What do I have to do to convince you that's not what I'm doing? You keep forgetting I'm the one who tried to get you into his life five years ago. I want this to work. But it's going to have to happen with him living in San Francisco.”

He nodded once and left. Liz checked on all three kids, then leaned against the tree and drew in a breath.

There would be consequences, she thought grimly. With Ethan there were always consequences. He would probably try to convince her to stay. Which was fine. Let him try. But there was nothing he could say or do to keep her in town. And the sooner he figured that out, the better for all of them.

 

L
IZ STILL WASN'T SLEEPING, SO
morning came early. With the kids out of school, she didn't have to worry about
getting them up and ready, but there were other considerations. Mostly that today the construction team would arrive to start the remodeling. Jeff, the burly fifty-something contractor she'd hired, had promised his team would be at her place no later than seven. The fact that they would be done by four each day was minimal comfort.

She had set her travel alarm for six, showered, dressed and made coffee. She was on her second cup when someone knocked on her front door.

She crossed the living room to open it and smiled at the three women and one guy she saw on her porch.

“Right on time,” she began, then blinked several times when she noticed the identical beige T-shirts they wore.

Instead of the ladder and truck logo she'd seen in the phone book, the name “Hendrix Construction” was spelled out in a sturdy font.

“You're not Jeff's crew, are you?” she asked already knowing the answer.

The woman closest to the door handed her a cell phone. “Boss said you'd want to talk to him.”

She did her best not to shriek. “How thoughtful of him. If you'll excuse me?”

She closed the front door, looked at the number already punched into the cell phone, and pushed the send button. He answered on the first ring.

“Don't take it out on the team,” Ethan said.

“Take what out on the charming construction crew on my front porch?”

“You know. And it's not Jeff's fault, either. He owed me.”

“You seem very determined to make sure I blame you,” she countered, her voice low, but still thick with anger. “Don't worry. I have every intention of making sure you pay for this.”

“Look, you wanted your house fixed up. My team will do a great job.”

She stepped away from the door and clutched the phone tighter. Outrage churned the coffee in her stomach. “Dammit, Ethan. What is wrong with you?”