Susan Mallery - Almost Perfect

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.”

LIZ 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.”