Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (108 page)

“So? Why isn't that enough? You're growing children inside of you, not providing a spiritual education. Right now your only job is to take care of yourself and them to the best of your ability.” She sighed. “I raised six kids. Do you think I was fully present every second of every day? Do you think I liked it when the boys were fighting and the girls had colic? That I didn't wish myself away to some tropical island with nothing more than a quiet room to sleep in and a good book to read?”

Pia blinked at her. “But you're a great mom.”

“Thank you. I loved my kids and tried my best, but I wasn't perfect. No one is. And if the babies you had implanted aren't real to you, so what? You'll get there. It's not as if you've violated the universal pregnancy time line. This is a huge change in your life, Pia. You've given up so many things to honor your friend's request.
I liked Crystal a lot, but I have to tell you, there's a part of me that thinks she had no right to do this to you.”

Pia felt her eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”

“You don't just leave someone embryos without talking to them first. It's wrong. She should have talked to you, made sure this was what you wanted, too. She was asking a hell of a lot, and she didn't give you the chance to say no.”

Pia hadn't thought about it that way. “I could have walked away.”

“Walking away was a possibility, yes, but not for you. That's not who you are. We all see it in how you are with this town. You get the details right, you do the work. And anyone who knows you personally, knows that you've been hurt by the people who were supposed to protect you. And that you would never do that to anyone else. You don't need to worry about connecting with the babies you're carrying. It will happen. The reason you're sad is you've lost one of your children, as well. If this was just about Crystal, you'd only feel guilty.”

Pia turned the other woman's words over in her mind. “You're right,” she said slowly. “If I didn't care, I guess I'd secretly be relieved. Two babies is going to be a lot easier than three. But I can't get away from the sense of loss. And letting Crystal down.”

“This isn't about your emotions. An embryo could have been lost at any point in the process. It's a miracle all three of them got this far. Do you know how unlikely it was for you to get pregnant at all? You've done great.”

“Thanks.”

Somehow Denise had cut to the heart of the problem. In a way, exposing the issue to the light made Pia feel better.

“I worry that I won't do a good job,” she admitted. “I'm not ready to buy maternity clothes or look at baby furniture.”

“Most women get married, then plan having a baby. This was thrust upon you without warning. You need time to catch up. As for maternity clothes, trust me, it won't be long until you don't have a choice.” She smiled. “The baby-furniture issue will take care of itself. Pretty soon you'll have freakish hormones coursing through your body. You'll be biologically compelled to nest. But until that happens, don't sweat it. You're being too hard on yourself.”

“I'll try to do better.”

“I hope so. You're going to be a great mother. You already are. If you need anything, you know we'll all be there for you. This whole town loves you.”

The two women hugged. As Denise straightened, Pia heard footsteps on the stairs. Seconds later, Raoul entered the apartment.

He'd brought a small duffel with him. More clothes, she thought.

“Denise,” he said. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I had to see our girl. She's doing better.”

Raoul glanced at her anxiously. “I hope so.” He hesitated, then said, “I'm trying to convince her to move in with me, at least temporarily. My house is all one level.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “I'm fine.”

“You can't take the stairs.”

There was a difference between can't and don't want
to, Pia thought. Although she was supposed to take it easy for the next few days, after that, there weren't any restrictions. Which might be medically sound, but emotionally, the thought of taking stairs made her beyond nervous.

Denise glanced between them. “Pia, it might be a good idea. You'd be more relaxed if you didn't have to worry about stairs. It's only for a week or so, then you can move back.” She raised her eyebrows. “Although I'm not sure how long you're going to want to climb those three flights as your pregnancy progresses.”

Raoul looked both pleading and smug. “See.”

It might be the practical solution, but Pia didn't like it. Moving in with Raoul said something about their relationship. Or maybe it simply made things more real. Not that she'd been able to ignore the very large engagement ring on her left hand.

“I'll think about it,” she promised. It was the best she could do.

Denise hugged her again. As she was bent over, she whispered, “He's very handsome and doting. There are worse traits in a man.”

“I know. Thanks for coming by and talking to me.”

Denise kissed her forehead. “Anytime.” She straightened. “Take care of her. She's precious to all of us.”

“I will,” Raoul told her, then walked her to the door.

They spoke for a few seconds. Pia couldn't hear what they were saying, which was probably the point. She leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Despite being exhausted, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. Every time she tried, she flashed back to the sight of the blood
on the chair and felt the same terror flooding her. Not exactly a sequence designed to get her to nod off.

Instead she thought about what Denise had told her. Denise's observation that it was amazing that the babies had gotten this far was the most help. Maybe it was okay that she hadn't totally absorbed the idea of being pregnant. Maybe all that would change with time.

She opened her eyes and saw Raoul close the door. He glanced back at her.

“Why don't you try to rest,” he suggested.

She nodded because it was easier than admitting she couldn't sleep. She closed her eyes and tried to think about nothing at all. That seemed safest.

But she found herself remembering his story about his first wife. How Caro had betrayed him. There was no excuse for what she'd done. Pia couldn't imagine lying to the one person you were supposed to love more than anyone. Not like that. If she hadn't wanted to have children, she should have told him and gone on the Pill or something.

But the most difficult part of what he'd told her had been the realization that he'd loved Caro. The truth had been in the way he'd spoken about her, in the emotion in his eyes. He'd met her, dated her, fallen in love with her and proposed. Just like it was supposed to be.

She wasn't going to get that. She wasn't going to have the kind of love Hawk and Nicole shared, or that Denise had had with her late husband. There might be respect and a growing affection, there might be a shared goal of raising the twins and perhaps having more children, but there wasn't a heart-pounding, hair-raising, oh-my-God kind of falling in love.

The knowledge hurt more than she would have
expected. It made her want to curl up and give in to tears. Some for what she'd lost, but also for the realization of how much she'd wanted that in her life. She'd wanted her happy ending.

With Raoul.

She sat up straight and opened her eyes. After checking to make sure he wasn't in the room, she turned the thought over in her mind. With Raoul? As in… What? She was falling for him?

A dangerous place to go, she told herself. It was insane to fall for a guy who'd made it clear he didn't want his heart to get involved.

She reminded herself she'd always been practical. This was completely the wrong time to be thinking with her heart.

* * *

“M
Y HANDS STILL SMELL FUNNY,”
Peter said with a laugh, holding one up for her to inspect. “And I washed 'em like five times.”

“Garlic's tricky that way,” Pia told him, enjoying having the boy to talk to. It was difficult to stay depressed in the presence of a happy ten-year-old.

“Raoul said a bad word when he dropped the spaghetti in the boiling water,” Peter said in a whisper. “It was funny.”

“I'm sure it was.”

Despite her misgivings about moving in with Raoul, practicality and her fear of stairs had won. He'd packed up her stuff and carried her down two flights of stairs—a testament to his workout commitment. Now she was settled in his guest room.

He'd called Peter's foster parents and asked if the boy could join them for dinner. Pia appreciated having
someone else there that first night. It made her feel less weird about being in Raoul's house.

He appeared in the doorway, a dish towel over his shoulder. “I drain the meat before putting in the sauce, right?”

“Yes. But don't put the grease down the drain.”

“Cooking is complicated.”

She laughed. “I told you not to start with making spaghetti. You could have heated up one of the casseroles. That would have been easier.”

“But I love a good challenge.”

“Typical man.”

He chuckled and left.

Peter sat down next to her on the sofa. “Raoul said you were sick and you have to be careful.” He held out his arm which now sported a green cast. “Is it like my arm?”

“A little like that. You still have to be careful about not getting it wet, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But it will get better.”

“Like you?” Peter asked, leaning against her.

She put her arm around him. “Like me,” she said, and hoped she was telling the truth.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

L
IZ STRETCHED OUT ON THE
other sofa in Raoul's living room. “Seriously,” she said. “You have to be bored.”

“I'm getting there,” Pia admitted. This was day four and her last day of resting. “I keep thinking about everything that has to be done and how behind I'm going to be.”

Liz winced. “Yes, well, about that. Montana organized a work party.”

Pia straightened. “Do not tell me she let people into my office.”

“Okay, I won't.”

“Are you kidding? They were touching my files?”

Liz laughed. “It's not like they were feeling up your underwear drawer. It's just files.”

Pia groaned. “They're my files. I have a system. What if they messed it up?”

“What if they were just trying to help because they care about you?”

“Helping is nice,” Pia said. “But not if it makes more work for me.”

“Someone needs her attitude adjusted. You should be grateful we all care about you. This town takes care of its own.”

Pia narrowed her gaze. “You weren't so happy with all the meddling when you first moved back to town.
If I remember correctly, you wanted to leave and never come back.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

“It was happening to me.”

Pia relaxed back on the sofa and laughed. “Typical. We're all so self-absorbed.”

“Speak for yourself.” Liz's humor faded. “How are you doing?”

“No. I'm tired of talking about myself. How are you doing? How is life with three kids and a fiancé?”

“You forgot the puppy,” Liz said. “Ethan's bright idea, although I get the blame. I allowed a vote. Of course everyone wanted the puppy but me and now in addition to everything else, I'm potty training a very energetic Labradoodle named—wait for it—Newman.”

Pia giggled. “Newman?”

“Can you believe it?”

At the beginning of summer, Liz had discovered she had two nieces she hadn't known about. The oldest, a fourteen-year-old, had contacted her through Liz's Web site, admitting their father was in prison and their stepmother had taken off, leaving them on their own. Liz had packed up her son and her computer and driven to Fool's Gold to rescue the girls.

The difficult situation had been complicated by the fact that Ethan, the oldest of the Hendrix children, had been the father of Liz's ten-year-old son. Through a series of miscommunications, Liz thought he knew about Tyler, but he hadn't been told. After a very rocky few months, they'd realized they were still madly in love. Now Ethan was building them a house, they were
engaged and Liz had custody of her two nieces. And Newman.

“Don't you have to go on a book tour soon?” Pia asked.

Liz was a bestselling mystery author.

“Next week,” Liz said with a sigh. “Denise is moving in for the duration. I've warned her it's not going to be the big party she's expecting. The good news is Newman is about ninety percent on knowing where to pee.”

“Meaning not in the house?”

“Exactly. I finally have a chore list for the kids that seems workable, and everyone is doing their own laundry. It means that Tyler sometimes has pink socks, but he's learning to deal with that.” Liz shook her head. “I'm normally gone about three weeks, but under the circumstances my publisher very graciously agreed that ten days was better. Honestly, I'm looking forward to being alone in a hotel room. No loud music or TV, no fighting over the Wii control, no yells asking what time is dinner.”

“No Ethan.”

“That's the downside, but I'll survive. Actually, he's a big help with the kids. The girls adore him. He's helping Abby with her pitching. There's a softball team in middle school and she wants to get on it.”

“You've settled in to living here. For a while I didn't think that was going to happen.”

“Me, either,” Liz admitted. “It was tough at first, because of my past, but eventually the town and I made peace with each other.”

Pia studied her friend. She considered it a sign of her good character that she didn't mind that Liz was beautiful, with shiny red hair and a perfect body.

“You look happy,” Pia said.