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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: Almost Perfect
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E
THAN
H
ENDRIX STOOD BY THE
barricades between the crowd and the cyclists. The sun was hot, the spectators loud. The noise of a race was specific and not something he would ever forget. There'd been a time when he'd planned on seeing the world on the racing circuit. A long time ago, he thought, remembering the feel of the wind, the sensation of muscles burning as he dug for the will to win.

Winning had come easily. Maybe too easily. He'd gotten careless during a race. At fifty miles an hour, balanced on skinny wheels and a lightweight frame, mistakes could be deadly. In his case, he'd been left with a few broken bones and a permanent limp. For anyone else, it would have been considered lucky. For him, the injury had kept him from ever racing again.

Now, ten years later, he watched the cyclists speed past. He spotted his friend Josh, still making up time from his late start, and wondered
What if.
But he didn't
have a whole lot of energy for the subject. Everything was different now and he was good with that.

He turned away from the race, ready to return to his office, when he spotted a woman in the crowd. For a second he thought he'd imagined her, that he was putting beautiful features he would never forget onto the face of someone else. There was no way Liz Sutton was back in Fool's Gold.

Instinctively he moved closer, but the road with the barricades was between them. The redhead looked up again, this time facing him. She removed her sunglasses and he saw her wide green eyes, the full mouth. From this distance he couldn't see the freckles on her nose, but he knew they were there. He even knew how many.

He swore softly. Liz was back. Except on the back cover of her books, he hadn't seen her in over a decade. As of five seconds ago, he would have told anyone who asked that he'd forgotten her, had gotten over her. She was his past.

She looked away then, as if searching for someone. Obviously not him, he thought, then grinned. Liz back in Fool's Gold. Who would have thought?

He eased his way through the crowd. He might not be able to find her now, but he had a feeling he knew where she would be later. He would meet her there and welcome her home. It was the least he could do.

 

L
IZ KEPT A TIGHT HOLD ON
Tyler's hand on their way to the local grocery store. The crowd around the bike race
was big and seemed to be growing. She'd been foolish to think she could find two girls she'd never met in the throng of tourists. It wasn't as if she even knew what they looked like.

She pointed toward a vendor selling shaved iced and bought Tyler his favorite flavor. Blueberry.

All around them, groups of people laughed and talked about the race. She heard something about a new bike racing school and a new hospital being built. Changes, she thought. Fool's Gold had changed in the past ten years.

But not enough for her to forget. Despite having to detour around blocked roads, she easily found her way down side streets, and back toward the house where she'd grown up.

“You lived here before you went to San Francisco?” Tyler asked.

“Uh-huh. I grew up here.”

“With my grandma Sutton?”

“Yes.”

“She's dead now.”

He spoke the words as information, because that's all they were to him. He'd never met Liz's mother.

When Liz had first left town at eighteen, running away with a broken heart, she'd found her way to the city by the bay, had struggled to find work and a place to stay in a glorified shelter. Then she'd found out she was pregnant.

Her first instinct had been to go home, but that initial
phone call had made her wary. Over the next year, she'd phoned home twice. Both times her mother had made it clear her daughter was no longer a part of her life. The rejection had hurt but hadn't been much of a surprise. Her mother had also taken great delight in telling her that no, Ethan Hendrix never called or asked about her.

When the woman died four years ago, Liz hadn't cried, though she felt regret over the relationship they never had.

Now, as she crossed a quiet street, she found herself in her old neighborhood. The houses were modest, two- and three-bedroom homes with small porches and aging paint. A few gleamed like bright flowers in an abandoned garden, as if the neighborhood was on the verge of being desirable again.

The worst house on the street sat in the middle. An eyesore of peeling paint and missing roof shingles. The yard was more weeds than plants or lawn, the windows were filthy. Plywood filled the space where one was missing.

She used the key she'd found under the front mat to let them in. She'd already done a brief tour of the house, to see if the girls were there. Judging from the school books piled on the dirty kitchen table and the clothes on the girls' bedroom floors, she would guess summer break hadn't started yet.

Now she walked through to the kitchen with tonight's meal. Half the cabinets were gone, as if someone had started remodeling then changed his mind. The
refrigerator worked, but was empty. There was no food in the pantry in the corner. There were a few potato chip wrappers in the trash and one small apple on the counter.

She didn't know what to think. Based on her niece's letter, the girls had been on their own for a few weeks. Ever since their stepmom had taken off. With their father in jail and no other family around, shouldn't the state step in? Where were social services?

She had more questions, but figured she would deal with them later. It was after four. The girls should get home soon. Once they'd all met, she would get more food in the house and figure out what was going on.

“Mom?” Tyler called from the living room. “May I watch TV?”

“Until your cousins get here.”

Peggy had already called to confirm she'd paid all the amounts due on the utility bills and that everything should be working. Liz could see there was electricity. She turned on the faucet and water gushed out, which was a plus. Seconds later, she heard the sound of cartoons, which meant there was cable. Modern life as she knew it had been restored.

She walked back to the front of the house and took the stairs to the second floor. She made her way straight to the master. It was the only room with family photos. A wedding picture of a much older Roy standing next to a chubby blonde had been placed on the battered dresser. There were a couple of school pictures of the
girls. Liz moved closer and studied them, looking for features that would be familiar.

Melissa seemed to have Roy's smile. Abby had Liz's eyes and freckles. They were both redheads, Melissa blessed with a soft auburn color. Abby was all carrot-top, which looked totally adorable. Although Liz had a feeling the eleven-year-old wouldn't appreciate her unique coloring for a long time.

She turned away from the photos to look at the room. The bed was unmade, the dresser drawers open and empty. In the surprisingly large closet, only men's clothes hung. A couple of boxes were filled with socks and underwear—most likely placed there by Roy's wife.

Memories crowded around, filling the space. They poked at her as she moved back into the hallway, then into the bedroom that had been hers, making her remember things she'd tried so hard to forget.

She heard echoes of her mother yelling, inhaled the smell of alcohol. She remembered the low voices of the men who had come and gone. Most of her mother's “friends” had stayed out of Liz's way, but a few had watched her with an intensity that had made her uncomfortable.

She went into the room that had been hers. The wall color was different. The faded yellow had been replaced with a pale lavender. While the walls were freshly painted, the baseboards and trim had been sanded, but not finished. In the bathroom across the hall, the floor
had been pulled up, exposing sheets of plywood below. She'd noticed a framed room off the back, sitting on a poured foundation. So many half-started projects that gave the already old and battered house the air of being wounded.

Easily changed, she told herself. A good contractor could have this place fixed in a few weeks. Or maybe the old house should simply be torn down and left for dead.

She shook off the morose thoughts. She'd been here all of an hour and already the place was getting to her. She had to remember she had a great life in San Francisco. Work she loved, a beautiful home, an amazing son. She'd left Fool's Gold over a decade ago. She was a different person today. Older. Stronger. Able to deal with a few memories. It wasn't as if she was settling here permanently. She would find out what was going on, then either take the girls to wherever they were going to live, or pack them up and bring them back to her place. A couple weeks, she told herself. Three at most.

She went downstairs and heard the sound of excited voices. There were racing footsteps on the porch, then the front door flew open.

Two girls stood there, the taller and older one looking both scared and relieved, while the younger hung back shyly.

“Aunt Liz?” Melissa, the fourteen-year-old, asked tentatively.

Liz smiled at them both and nodded. “Hi. I hope it's okay that I let myself in. The key was right where—”

The rest of what she was going to say got squeezed out of her as both girls raced to her and hugged her hard, holding on as if they would never let go.

CHAPTER TWO

L
IZ HUGGED THEM BACK
, recognizing the relief and desperation in their embrace. They were too young to have been left on their own. What had Roy's wife been thinking?

She mentally added that question to the growing list she would deal with later. For now she wanted the girls to feel safe and get them fed.

“You're really here,” Melissa said, looking at her. “Really?”

“Yes. I got your e-mail this morning and came right away.”

Melissa, thin and nearly as tall as Liz, drew in a breath. “I'm really glad. I was trying so hard to make it okay, but I couldn't. The money Bettina left us ran out really fast.”

Abby, a little shorter and also thin, bit her lower lip. “Are you our aunt?”

“I am. Your dad's my brother.”

“You're famous.”

Liz laughed. “Not really.”

“But you have books in the library. I've seen 'em.”
Abby glanced at her sister. “I don't read them because Melissa says they'll give me bad dreams.”

Liz reached out and touched the girl's cheek. “I think she's right. But maybe when you're older.”

“Or you could write a book for girls my age.”

“Something to think about.” She looked past the girls and saw Tyler standing in the doorway to the hall. “Girls, you have a cousin. My son Tyler is with me. Tyler, these are your cousins, Melissa and Abby.”

The girls turned. Tyler smiled.

“Hi,” he said, sounding more curious than uneasy.

“Hi,” the girls responded together.

“Tyler's eleven,” Liz told them. “His last day of school was today.”

Melissa wrinkled her nose. “We have to go until Friday. Then we're off for the summer.”

A fact that would make life easier, Liz thought. If she ended up taking the girls back to San Francisco, she wouldn't have to worry about pulling them out of school.

Abby turned back to her. “Where's Tyler's dad, Aunt Liz?”

Not a question Liz wanted to deal with right now. She saw her son's expression sharpen, as if hoping she would share some information. Not likely, she thought, wishing things had been different and Ethan had at least wanted to be a small part of his son's life.

“Not with us,” Liz stated lightly. “Why don't we go into the kitchen and get you two something to eat? I picked up a cooked chicken and some salads on the way
into town. Then we'll get to know each other a little and you can tell me what's been going on.”

She had more to say, but both girls ran into the kitchen, as if desperate for food. Based on how they'd been living, they probably were.

She served them each a large portion of the chicken, along with coleslaw and potato salad.

The girls fell on the food, practically shoving it in their mouths. Liz poured the milk she'd bought and they gulped two glasses each. As she watched them devour the meal, she felt herself getting angry. How could Roy's wife have simply abandoned the girls like that? What kind of heartless cow left two kids on their own? The least she could have done was phone social services on her way out of town.

She decided she would find out all she could about Bettina then kill off a character just like her in her next book. The death would be grisly, she promised herself. Slow and painful.

Tyler watched the girls wide-eyed, but didn't say anything. He seemed to sense they'd been hungry for a long time, which was sad but probably a good lesson for him. Not everyone got to have three meals a day.

Liz took in their worn, not-very-clean T-shirts. Their jeans had seen better days, as well, and their sandals were in need of replacing. She knew most fourteen-year-old girls would be humiliated to be without stylish clothes and at least a hint of makeup. Was Melissa without both by choice?

When the feeding frenzy slowed, Liz settled across from Melissa. Tyler stood by Liz's shoulder and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

“How long has Bettina been gone?” Liz asked.

“A while. Nearly three months. She left us with one hundred dollars. When that ran out…” Melissa dropped her gaze to her plate, then pushed it away.

Liz thought about the potato chip wrappers in the trash. The small apple on the counter. If there wasn't any money and no one was taking care of them, there was only one way they could have survived. Melissa had been stealing from local stores.

“We'll talk about that later,” Liz offered. “Privately. We can talk to the store owners and explain. I'll pay them back.”

Melissa flushed, then swallowed. “I, um… Thanks, Aunt Liz.”

“How about just calling me Liz? Aunt Liz is too long.”

“Okay. Thanks, Liz.”

“Did your friends know Bettina was gone?”

Abby shook her head. “Melissa said not to tell. She said we'd be taken away and put in different homes. That we'd never find our way back to each other.”

“I wasn't going to let them take Abby from me,” Melissa claimed fiercely, her green eyes flashing with determination.

An admirable sentiment, if slightly impractical when the alternative was starving. Of course Liz might be the
wrong person to make a judgment on the issue. She'd adored her big brother and he'd taken off without a word, leaving her behind.

“A couple of my friends figured it out,” Melissa admitted. “They would bring us food sometimes. It's been hard. I really thought I could take care of us both.”

“It's a big responsibility,” Liz conceded. “You did the best you could, but the situation was impossible. I'm glad you e-mailed me.”

Abby grinned. “She's read all your books, just like Dad. He has them all upstairs. Can we go see him?”

“Let me find out what's going on first,” Liz explained, stalling for time. She didn't even know where Roy was, let alone what he'd been convicted of or where he was incarcerated.

“Dad's really proud of you,” Melissa told her shyly. “He talked about you all the time.”

Liz wasn't sure how she felt about that. Roy's pride hadn't extended to getting in touch with her. As his daughters had proven, finding her wasn't all that hard.

Abby raised her face to the ceiling. “The lights are on.” She grinned. “It won't be dark anymore.”

“Everything's back on,” Liz confirmed. “Even cable.”

Their eyes lit up. “We can watch TV?” Abby asked.

Tyler looked at Liz and grinned as if to point out he wasn't the only kid who wanted to watch TV all the time.

“Not until your homework is done,” Tyler informed
them. “And not every night.” He sighed heavily, as if his life was pain.

Liz laughed. “It's true. I insist on reading nights every week, where we just sit quietly and read.”

“I like to read,” Melissa said. “But Dad and Bettina let us watch TV all the time.”

An issue she would address later, Liz thought. “If you two are done, why don't you take your plates to the sink and rinse them? Then we can make a list and go to the grocery store.”

When they'd rinsed their plates, she sent Tyler to see if the upstairs bathroom had toilet paper and Abby out to the garage to check if there was any laundry detergent by the old washer. She and Melissa sat back at the table and started to make a list.

“We'll get the basics,” Liz began. “But not too much. I'm not sure how long we'll be here.”

Melissa frowned as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “We're not leaving. I'm not going to let anyone separate me and Abby.”

Liz touched her arm. “I'm not suggesting anything like that. But you can't stay here alone. You have to live with an adult or two. I'll talk to your dad about the situation.”

“What about you?” Melissa stared at the table as she asked the question.

“I don't know. If there's other family, then we'll have options to explore. If not, then you and Abby will be coming back to San Francisco with me.”

Melissa sprang to her feet. “No. We won't go. We live here. In Fool's Gold.” Tears filled her eyes.

Liz rose. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Everything is still new and we haven't even gotten to know each other. Let's not worry about anything more than today.”

“I won't go. Neither will Abby.” Melissa looked defiant, despite the tears. “I mean it, Liz. You can't make us.”

Liz knew that if she ended up with custody of the girls, she could and would, but there was no point in pushing hard now.

“I understand,” Liz assured calmly. “As I said, let me talk to your dad and figure out where we are. I won't do anything without talking to you first. Can we put this on hold for a bit?”

Melissa looked as if she wanted to argue, but nodded slowly.

Liz took her seat and turned back to the list. “Shampoo and conditioner?” she asked.

Melissa sank into the chair across from her. “We're out of them, too.”

Liz made a note. “You'll have to show me what you like. What about makeup?”

It was a bribe, plain and simple, but she figured both she and Melissa had earned the break.

“I, ah, don't wear that much, but I'd like to.”

Liz smiled. “We'll get mascara and lip gloss when we go out, but later in the week, we'll make a serious drugstore run and get some fun stuff to play with.”

Melissa leaned close. “Do you have highlights?”

Liz fingered her layered, wavy hair. It fell just past her shoulders—a length that allowed her to pull it back, put it up or go crazy with the hot rollers and have beauty pageant curls.

“A few. Our hair is about the same color. A bit of reddish gold adds dimension.” Liz shrugged. “You're pretty without any help, but in a few years, you'll be looking for more.”

Melissa flushed. “Abby hates her hair. It's so red.”

“She'll grow into it. When you're young, it's hard to be different.”

“That's what my mom used to say.” Melissa pressed her lips together as she twisted her fingers. “She died.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. Abby doesn't remember her.”

“But you do.”

Melissa nodded.

Liz wondered about the woman her brother had married and where he'd been all this time. When had he come back to Fool's Gold? Had it been when their mother had died? Liz suspected she'd left the house to him. But how had anyone known how to get in touch with him? Unless he'd been in touch with their mother and she hadn't known.

More questions for later, she told herself.

Tyler clattered down the stairs. “No toilet paper,” he announced. “And there isn't soap in the shower.”

He sounded both shocked and delighted by the strangeness.

Abby returned to the kitchen to say there wasn't any laundry detergent, either.

“I don't know if my car's big enough for all we'll have to buy,” Liz teased brightly. “We may have to tie one of you on the roof of the car to make room.”

Abby looked a little startled, but Tyler laughed. “I'll do it. Tie me on the roof, Mom.”

“Thank you for volunteering.”

Abby glanced between them, then smiled shyly, as if getting the joke. “You could tie me, too.”

“Why thank you,” Liz said, touching her cheek. “That's very thoughtful of you. Okay—are we ready? I was thinking we'd have spaghetti for dinner. How does that sound?”

“My favorite,” Tyler yelled.

“Mine, too,” Abby said.

“With garlic bread?” Melissa asked.

“It wouldn't be spaghetti if there wasn't garlic bread,” Liz told her.

Melissa grinned.

 

O
NE SHOPPING TRIP, A DINNER
and shared kitchen cleanup later, Liz supervised the kids settling in for the evening. Melissa had one last assignment for school, while Abby and Tyler sat on the sofa downstairs to watch a movie.

Liz poured herself a second glass of wine, then
carried it out front. While her nieces were great, the situation was intense and she felt the need to be alone for a few minutes.

She walked to the edge of the porch and sat with her feet on the second step. The night was clear, the stars much bigger and closer than they appeared in San Francisco. Here there weren't big city lights to dilute the heavens. She could make out the mountains to the east, rising miles into the sky. The very tops seemed to almost brush the twinkling stars.

The sound of the movie carried to her, a safe sound. Abby and Melissa were good kids dealing with an impossible situation. Her anger at the absent Bettina grew every second. How could an adult simply walk away from two girls like that? Even if she didn't want them herself, she could have done
something
to make sure they were taken care of.

Part of Liz wanted to call the police and report the woman, but she wouldn't. Not until everything was straightened out. Getting social services involved at this point was a complication no one needed. Besides, she wanted to talk to Roy first.

At dinner Melissa had mentioned her father was at Folsom. Despite the fact that Johnny Cash had made the place famous with a song, the facility was old and very much a prison. Liz had researched the prison for one of her books. She still had several contacts there which would mean getting in to see her brother would be relatively easy.

But knowing that didn't make the idea of seeing him after all this time anymore comfortable. What was she supposed to say?

She shook off the question and returned her attention to the beautiful night. That was easier than thinking about the past, or hey, even the present. After all this time, she was back in Fool's Gold. Who would have thought?

The grocery shopping had been uneventful. Only one shopper had recognized her enough to call her by name. The older woman hadn't been the least bit familiar to Liz, but she remembered enough of small-town life to pretend to be delighted at the meeting. The woman had commented on how nice it was that she'd come back for Roy's girls.

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