Almost Perfect (15 page)

As for her nieces, they would have to take things slow. Seeing Roy would make his prison sentence real. Whether or not it made leaving harder or easier, she couldn't say. But however things turned out, they would find their way to becoming a family.

In the kitchen, the timer dinged.

“We have cookies,” she announced, releasing the girls. “I'm going to need some help sampling. Any volunteers?”

All three of them yelled out they were willing and together they walked into the kitchen.

 

E
THAN WANTED TO IGNORE
his mother's voice-mail request that he stop by on his way home that evening, but knew it wasn't a good idea. Denise didn't make many demands of her children, so when she asked for something, they mostly paid attention.

He had a feeling he knew the topic she would want to discuss. He would rather chew glass than talk about his relationship with Liz, but he didn't see how he could avoid it. Sometimes having close relationships was a giant pain in the ass. If he and his mother were estranged, he could cheerfully ignore her. But they weren't, and the affection between them demanded he be forthcoming.

He parked in front of the house and walked to the front door.

“It's me,” he called.

“I'm in the kitchen.”

He moved to the rear of the house, then stepped into the bright, open kitchen. His mother stood at the counter, pouring sun tea into tall glasses filled with ice. She wore cropped pants and a pink T-shirt, was barefoot and had a country station playing on the radio.

Everything about this was familiar, he thought as he took his usual seat at the large table in the center of the room.

“How's it going?” he asked.

“Good. Great.” She approached him with the glass and set it in front of him. “I met someone. His name is Roger. He owns a shipping company. We're going to Las Vegas together on Friday.”

He stared at her, the words sinking into his consciousness. “What?”

Her dark eyes were alive with excitement. “It's wonderful. To think I could fall in love again, and at my age.
The sex…well, I won't get into that, but trust me. It rocks my world.”

He could have choked. As it was, he could barely speak. “You met a guy? Just like that and you're running off?”

“Of course not,” she snapped and cuffed him on the back of his head. “That would be stupid and irresponsible. I'm a firm believer there should only be one idiot in the family at a time and right now that's you.”

His mind reeled with the shift, as he struggled to figure out what she was saying. She collected her glass and sat across from him.

“There's no Roger?” he asked, wanting confirmation.

“There's no Roger. Just my son, who is doing his damnedest to screw up. You must get that from your father.”

The world seemed to steady itself. He drew in a breath. “You heard about the injunction.”

“Yes, and if I was closer, I'd hit you again. Talk about stupid. Are you trying to drive Liz away?”

He rubbed the back of his head, doing his best not to wince when he passed over the place where she'd hit him. “I thought you didn't like her.”

“I'm ambivalent. I'm angry about the time we've lost with Tyler, but I can see her side of things. She didn't have it easy when she was growing up. As the mother of three daughters, I ache for her. Where was
her
mother? Talk about a difficult situation. Which you've made worse. What were you thinking?”

“That I didn't want her to run. She's leaving. She told me flat out that she was fixing up the house, then going back to San Francisco. I couldn't lose him again.”

Denise frowned. “I don't understand. Why would Liz allow you to see Tyler, why would she be so cooperative, then threaten to take her son away?”

Ethan shifted in his seat. “She didn't say she was taking him away, exactly. She said that we would work something out. Custody. Visitation. Whatever.”

His mother stared at him, disbelief widening her eyes. “You're telling me that Liz was willing to come up with a plan, and you served her with an injunction? To what end?”

“What if she disappeared? I'd have no way to find her. No way to see Tyler.”

“Is there anything about her past behavior that would make you think even for a second that she would disappear? She's been perfectly up-front with you. Okay, not the first few years, and I'm still angry and hurt about that. But we'll put that aside for now.”

She picked up her iced tea, then set it down. “Since she's been back, she's been cooperative, hasn't she? She really did try to tell you about Tyler five years ago. You have written proof of it. What more did you need?”

Control, he thought, knowing he couldn't explain that to his mother. She wouldn't understand and if she did, she wouldn't approve.

“We'll work it out,” he said instead.

“In front of a judge? That will be friendly and
pleasant.” Denise shook her head. “I don't get it. What did you hope to accomplish by acting like that? Getting her attention?”

His head snapped up. “I'm not looking for Liz's attention.”

“Aren't you?” She seemed to consider the idea. “You were in love with her once, weren't you?”

“I was a kid. We both were.”

“I was nineteen when I met your father. Being young doesn't make the love any less real.”

“Fine. I loved her.” He'd loved her but he'd been too much of a jerk to admit it. To stand up to the town and his friends. To admit his feelings out loud.

It wasn't behavior he'd been proud of. Looking back, with the wisdom of hindsight, he knew he hadn't been ready for Liz. Hadn't deserved her.

He'd been blessed with a happy, normal childhood. He hadn't realized that little had been asked of him, so he hadn't had to prove himself. On the surface, he'd seemed like one of the good guys, but underneath, he'd been immature and selfish.

It had taken the accident that had ended his racing career to start the process of maturing him. But even that hadn't been enough. Because he'd come home to sulk, to complain. It was only after the death of his father, when he'd been forced to take over the family business, that he'd finally started to grow up.

“I wasn't ready,” he said slowly. “Not to be what Liz needed. If I'd known she was pregnant, I would have
done the right thing and married her. But I don't think we would have made it.”

“You might have surprised yourself.”

“You're my mom. You have to believe the best of me.” Even when it wasn't true.

She and Nevada were right, he thought. Serving Liz had accomplished nothing but alienating her. Maybe he had wanted to get her attention. If so, he'd picked a lousy way to do it.

“She needs someone on her side,” Denise told him. “You have your family and the town.”

“Not everyone in town,” he assured, remembering the old lady who'd gone after him with her purse.

“You're still coming out ahead. If we're not careful, Liz will feel overwhelmed and take off. Honestly, I'm not sure I would blame her for that.” His mother paused, then scrunched her face. “I could have been a lot more supportive and understanding. I should have been. I want to know my grandson, and Liz is the key to making that happen.”

He thought about pointing out that if push came to shove, they could go to court. Force Liz to let Tyler spend time with the family. But in the end, no one would win. Certainly not Tyler. And as Liz had pointed out several times, the kid was the most important part of the equation.

“I can't take the injunction back,” he said, not completely sure he would if he could. Although he still wasn't sure why. His mother was right—he was trying to prove something.

“You may not be able to take it back, but I can make an effort, and I'm going to. Liz has been in this by herself for too long. I'm still angry about missing the first eleven years of Tyler's life, but if I don't let that go, my emotions will affect everything else. And not in a good way. Besides, Rayanne is to blame for the last five years. This is so complicated.” She looked at him. “I suppose you're going to be an idiot for a while longer.”

“Apparently.”

She surprised him by smiling. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your father. He was an idiot, too.”

“And you still loved him.”

Her smile broadened. “Yes, but Liz might not be as smart as me.”

L
IZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A CITY
event-planning meeting before. When Pia had called to invite her, she thought the afternoon might be interesting. Her stay in Fool's Gold was temporary but she might as well get a feel for the good as well as the bad. If nothing else, she may be able to put the experience in a book.

A little before two, she walked to the City Hall building and found her way to the meeting room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find herself in a good-size open space, with about three dozen chairs facing a long table and a podium. Most of the chairs were full, and three women chatted by the head table. Montana and Pia were among them and smiled at her.

Liz smiled back, then went to find an empty seat.

Her choices were limited. There was one next to a young mother with a baby. Liz didn't recognize her, so they hadn't gone to school together. Odds were the woman wouldn't care about Liz or her past. There were several older women sitting together, but after the recent comments on her character by strangers, she
wasn't sure she wanted to risk the wrath of a potential mob.

Unable to find a place that felt safe, she settled for a seat in the back corner. With any luck, she would be ignored.

A woman in the row in front of her turned to face her. “Hi,” she said. “I'm Marti and I just love your books.”

“Thanks.”

“Your main character is wonderful. She feels so real. And thank God you're not putting too much gore in your books. I know violence is part of the genre, but some authors go too far.”

“I enjoy writing my stories,” Liz acknowledged, knowing a neutral response was usually best. The truth was she always liked hearing her readers opinions, even when she didn't agree with them. Readers probably thought she ignored what they said, but that wasn't true. Liz had made not a few changes in story lines based on reader input.

“I love reading them,” Marti repeated, before smiling and facing front.

Pia moved to the podium and called the meeting to order.

“We're planning the book festival,” she began. “Thank you all for coming out this afternoon. This is going to be our biggest and best program ever, which means lots of opportunity for volunteering. We'll get to that later. First, let me go over the program.”

A screen rolled down behind her. She pushed a few buttons on her laptop and a big poster appeared. It was bright and inviting, giving the dates of the Fool's Gold annual book festival. The border was filled with pictures of both authors and books. Liz was relieved to see that she was just one of the many on this poster. The one Montana had shown her a few days before had featured her prominently. Not something to endear her to the other local authors.

“We're going to set up in the park,” Pia continued. “Given that we have a few better-known authors this year, we're expecting a larger crowd than usual.”

“That's right,” someone in the front called. “There's that mystery writer everyone's been talking about. What's her name?”

A ripple of laughter flowed through the room. Liz chuckled. “I can't remember,” she said loudly. “But I've heard she has an attitude, so watch out.”

An older woman stood up and waved at Liz. “I have a new quilting book out this year. Chances are my fans are going to be flooding the park. Just so you're prepared.”

“I look forward to meeting them,” Liz told her.

Pia looked at Liz with a teasing expression. “I think our local
New York Times
bestselling author can handle the competition.”

Pia went through the list of authors. As promised, most of them were local, self-published and their books dealt with unusual or dying crafts. Using sticks for art
and furniture. Making meals from what one can find on the forest floor. There was mention of an author who wrote about the Indian legends. The book sounded interesting, but when Liz asked Marti about the author, the other woman told her no one ever saw him in town. He lived in the mountains and kept to himself.

“There are tons of rumors,” Marti admitted. “Seeing him is like seeing Bigfoot. I've heard everything from him being one-hundred-and-eight, English and a former explorer to him being young, gorgeous and really rich.” She lowered her voice. “Personally I like the second story best.”

Liz thought the old British explorer sounded more intriguing. She would have to look up the mysterious author at the signing.

Despite everything going on, she found herself looking forward to the event. Her usual signings were in big stores or at industry events. Very organized and predictable, with crowd control and readers kept at a respectful distance. This sounded more fun. She liked the idea of being part of a writing community. There were days when figuring out a new way to serve chicken for Tyler seemed impossible. Feeding someone what could be found on a forest floor was impressive.

Pia went through the rest of the programs, the various opportunities for volunteering, then opened the meeting for questions.

Two people wanted to know about taking sign-up sheets around town. The only man at the meeting pointed
out that just because there were more women than men in town didn't mean it was right to take over all the men's restrooms every time there was a festival. Men had needs, too. Pia promised to look into the problem.

“Anything else?” she asked.

The young mother with the baby rose slowly. “I'm sure a lot of you aren't going to agree with me, but I have to say, I'm just sick about having that woman here.” She pointed at Liz. “What she did to Ethan is shameful. Keeping his little boy from him all those years. It's worse because of him losing Rayanne and their baby.” The woman's eyes filled with tears. “Rayanne was a sweet girl and now people are saying terrible things about her.” She glared at Liz. “I don't believe any of them.”

The room went silent as everyone turned to stare at Liz. Her warm fuzzies about the signing, the town and ever thinking it was smart to come back, disappeared. She sat in her seat, embarrassed, angry and determined not to blush. Speaking any words seemed impossible, let alone the right ones. What was she supposed to say?

“Let's stay on topic, everyone,” Pia reminded from the front of the room. “We're here to talk about the book festival.” She glanced at the young mother. “Melody, I know Rayanne was your friend, but this isn't the time or the place to have this conversation. Can we please finish up here.”

Both her voice and her gaze were sympathetic. Liz appreciated the support, although she still felt sick to her stomach. Then the woman next to Marti rose.

“Melody, you need to get your head out of your butt. Liz didn't do anything wrong. She was a kid, dealing with a lot of crap.” The older woman cleared her throat, then faced Liz. “I knew your mother and I had a bad feeling about what was going on at your house every night. I knew she drank and I knew there were men in and out of that place. A lot of us knew and we didn't do anything to protect you. We should have. You were just a little girl.”

The woman drew in a breath. “I'm sorry for my part in that. I've given money to the scholarship and I've acted differently since then. But that doesn't make up for me turning away when you were growing up.”

Several other women nodded. Melody looked furious.

“That doesn't excuse what she did to Ethan.”

“Maybe if you spent more time looking after your own family, you wouldn't have time to worry about something that happened all those years ago,” the older woman snapped. “After all, your husband spends plenty of nights up at the lodge, flirting with a certain cocktail waitress.”

Several people gasped. Melody went red. Pia grabbed the microphone.

“People,
please.
This is getting out of hand. Obviously we need to finish this another time. We—”

The door by the front of the room opened. An older woman walked in. It took Liz a moment to recognize the mayor. Marsha Tilson looked pale and it was obvious something bad had happened.

Pia stared at her. “It's Crystal, isn't it?” she asked softly, her voice picked up by the microphone.

The mayor nodded and held out her arms. Pia went into them and started to cry.

Liz stared at them both, unable to believe what she'd just heard. Crystal couldn't be dead. Sure she was sick, but Liz had seen her only a few weeks before. She'd been walking and talking and…

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Liz remembered the pretty, friendly girl from high school who had taken the time to give her hope.

“Oh, Crystal,” she whispered. “Not so soon.”

Nearly everyone in the room began talking. A few were crying. Liz got up and slipped out before anyone noticed.

As she walked home, she thought about Crystal, the town and how coming back had changed her life forever. She could leave and swear she would never return, but Fool's Gold had made a mark on her. One that nothing could erase.

There were horrible people here, but there were also good ones. People like Crystal, who took the time to change a life with a few words.

 

F
AMILY COURT WAS IN THE
county courthouse—away from the center of town. A fact that made the experience slightly more bearable, Liz thought as she walked into the old building. There were murals in the massive entryway—the kind painted in the 1940s and depicting
farmworkers and loggers. The subjects stood ten or fifteen feet high, the sure brushstrokes and colors still vivid after all these years.

Liz saw Ethan waiting by a bank of elevators. He wore a dark suit and white shirt, very different from his usual jeans and boots. Professional looked good on him. Not that a man with his height and muscled body ever looked bad, she thought, trying not to notice.

They moved toward each other. She squared her shoulders, grateful her three-inch heels meant she didn't have to look up very far to meet his gaze.

“No lawyer?” he asked.

“We're meeting the judge in her chamber,” Liz stated. “It's an informal meeting. The lawyer I contacted suggested trying to keep it friendly for as long as possible.”

“With the judge,” he noted, his gaze unreadable. “Not with me.”

“I'm not the one who started this.”

He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I didn't want you to leave.”

Something she could understand. Despite her claims that he could see Tyler whenever he wanted, she understood the fear of losing the one thing that mattered.

“You should have talked to me before doing this,” she told him evenly. “This is where you went and now we're stuck.”

“You owe me, Liz,” he said quietly.

“Maybe, but this is the wrong kind of payback.”

“I need to know I'm not going to lose my son.”

“What did I ever do to make you not trust me?”

“You didn't tell me right away.”

So they were back to that, she thought, both annoyed and sad. The same road, the same words, the same feelings. They were trapped and she didn't know how to make things different.

They walked to the waiting room, and then were called into the judge's chambers.

Judge Powers was a small woman, with dark hair and a petite build. She sat behind a large desk and leaned back in her leather chair as Ethan and Liz walked into the room.

She motioned for them to sit across from her, then drew in a breath.

“This sort of action makes me tired,” she began, her voice thick with irritation. “You're wasting my time and the court's time. You are two reasonably intelligent people who went to all the trouble to create a child together. Now, when your son is eleven, suddenly I have to deal with this?”

Liz had to consciously press her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open. She hadn't known what to expect, but it sure hadn't been a beginning like that.

“Your Honor,” Ethan responded, “there are some extraordinary circumstances.”

“There always are,” she said, reaching for her reading glasses and opening a file. “Dazzle me with them.”

Ethan briefly explained about how Tyler had come
to be in his life. Liz gave him points for being fair about her attempts to tell him. He was a little dismissive of her first effort, but detailed the second accurately.

Judge Powers frowned. “Your wife kept the information about your son from you?”

Ethan nodded.

“There's a prize,” the judge commented. “Where is she now?”

“She died a few years ago.”

The judge drew in a breath. “I'm sorry for your loss. So now you're back in town, Ms. Sutton. I understand you're caring for your brother's two daughters while your brother is incarcerated. Is that correct?”

Liz nodded, shocked for the second time in the very short meeting. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Don't look so surprised,” the judge said. “I do my homework. What you're doing with them is admirable. I've heard you plan on taking them to San Francisco with you. How do they feel about that?”

“They're not happy about the decision.”

“They're teenage girls. They're not going to be happy about anything.” She picked up the folder and looked at Ethan over her glasses. “This wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done.”

“I'm beginning to see that.”

“It's done now. You're going to have to deal with it. Both of you. School starts the Tuesday after Labor Day. You have between now and the Friday before Labor Day to come up with a reasonable plan. You will present
it to me at nine that morning. If I like it, then everything will be fine. If I don't…”

She smiled tightly. “Trust me. You're going to want me to like it.” The smile faded. “However, if you don't come up with a plan, then I will put both of you in jail and charge you five hundred dollars a day until you do. Each. That should cover the cost of three additional children being put in our already overcrowded foster care system. Have I made myself clear?”