Susan Mallery - Almost Perfect

Liz did her best to keep her expression neutral. To not give in to the churning emotions inside her.

Pia had already told her that he’d married Rayanne because she was pregnant. But she couldn’t help feeling annoyed. No, more than annoyed.

There was a voice in her demanding why Rayanne and not her? Reminding the voice he hadn’t known she was pregnant didn’t make her feel any better.

“You seem to have a track record of unplanned pregnancies,” she told him. “Haven’t you ever heard about birth control?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s what my mom said. Only with a little more emotion.”

“I would think so. If we weren’t having this very nice moment, I’d smack you on the back of the head and tell you to be more careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sighed. “So you married her. And then I showed up and because you’d told her about our relationship, she felt threatened.”

“Probably.”

“We’ve both really messed up,” she said.

“I guess we have.”

They smiled at each other then, and she found herself getting lost in his gaze. When he shifted toward her, she moved the last few inches, bringing her mouth to his.

This kiss was more tender than the last one. His firm mouth teased hers, making her melt even as she wrapped her arms around him.

He pulled her closer, their legs tangling on the sofa. She parted her lips and he eased inside, his tongue stroking hers. Need blossomed, but she ignored the wanting. Not only were there three kids upstairs, she wasn’t ready to make love with Ethan. Last time had been unplanned-an event driven by passion. She’d been able to walk away, only slightly scarred by the experience. This time would be different. This time there would be emotional complications and they were the last thing she needed.

Apparently he was feeling the same. They kissed again and again, but he didn’t push things further. She savored the feel of his body next to hers, enjoyed the heat building inside. It had been a long time since she’d really wanted a man. Wanted this man. Because Ethan could do things to her no one else could.

He drew back and they stared at each other.

“I should probably go,” he murmured.

She nodded, and shifted so he could stand. When she rose, he pulled her to him and kissed her again. After glancing at the ceiling, he exhaled slowly.

“You have a houseful of kids up there,” he noted.

“I know.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Damn.”

She touched his face, rubbing her fingers against the stubble. For a second she allowed herself to think what it would be like if they were alone. If there weren’t other considerations. If she didn’t have to worry about losing her heart to a man she couldn’t trust.

He kissed her lightly, then walked to the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

She nodded and followed him onto the porch. He walked down the steps, along the path, then turned onto the sidewalk. After he was gone, she stood there, looking up at the night sky, admiring the stars. Two months ago her life had been so routine, she thought. So predictable. Things had changed quickly, and she couldn’t be sure where she would be two months from now.

There was something fun about the not knowing, she told herself. Then she leaned against the porch pillar and breathed in the scent of the night.

LIZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A WAKE before and wasn’t sure what to wear. And it was blisteringly hot, which limited her options. She settled on a green sleeveless dress and cream-colored sandals. Word of the celebration of Crystal’s too-short life had come from Montana, who had phoned her two days before and asked her to bring a salad. Apparently the wake was a potluck.

As the type of salad hadn’t been specified, Liz had settled on a favorite pasta and mixed lettuce salad that was both healthy and delicious. Normally, she enjoyed making the salad, but this morning her heart hadn’t been in it. Crystal’s death was just too sad, her life over too soon. Even though they hadn’t been close in years, Liz felt the loss of someone she’d considered a friend.

She’d done her best to avoid thinking about where she was going and what would happen when she got there. She had a vision of a bunch of people sitting around in a quiet room, speaking softly, with everyone trying not to cry. Liz didn’t want to share her emotions in public, that was for sure.

But when she got to Jo’s Bar she was surprised to find what sounded like a party going on. The main room was full of people laughing and talking. Music played in the background and a slide show of pictures of Crystal and a handsome young man in a marine uniform flashed on a big-screen TV.

“Hi. Thanks for coming. We’re putting food in the back room,” Montana greeted as Liz entered. “On the pool tables.”

The tone was friendly but not especially welcoming. Sort of the way one spoke to a stranger.

Liz froze. After all this time, was Montana now blaming her for what happened with Ethan and Tyler? She felt stricken. It wasn’t as if she had a lot of friends in town-she didn’t want to lose one now.

“Are you…” she began, only to stop.

While the woman standing in front of her looked very much like Montana, there were differences. Shorter hair, a faint scar on the right cheek. A different way of standing.

Triplets, Liz thought in relief. Montana was one of three identical triplets.

“You’re not who I thought,” Liz explained.

“Who were you expecting?” the other woman asked.

“Montana. I’m Liz Sutton. We met at the girls’ night at my house.”

Ethan’s sister smiled. “I remember. I’m Dakota.”

“Hi.”

“How are you holding up? It’s got to be difficult, moving back here, dealing with Ethan and taking on Roy’s kids.”

“I’m handling it. Some days better than others.”

“If you ever need anything, call me. I’m always up for babysitting or whatever.”

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“Hey, you’re family now.”

“I appreciate that.” She raised her bowl. “I’ll put this with the other food.”

“Great. Jo’s serving pink grapefruit martinis at the bar. She and Crystal created them one night about a year ago and they’re surprisingly good.”

As it was barely two in the afternoon and she had three kids coming home around four, Liz agreed but privately told herself she would only have one.

She made her way through the bar, stopping to greet the few people she knew. She felt herself relaxing. It was unlikely anyone would verbally attack her at Crystal’s wake. This was a time to focus on the young woman who had died. And Dakota’s offer to help had been both unexpected and really nice.

After dropping off the salad next to several other dishes, she returned to the main room, where she saw Pia talking to a group of women.

Liz started to approach them, then stopped, not sure if she should join in. Pia made the decision for her by excusing herself from her friends and walking over to Liz.

“Hi,” Pia said, her eyes red from tears. Her mascara was smudged, her face pale. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re missing a close friend,” Liz stated, giving her an impulsive hug. “It’s okay to be a mess.”

Pia hugged her, then stepped back. “I guess. I can’t believe she’s gone. It’s not a surprise, and yet I can’t seem to get my mind around it.”

“We never expect people to die, even when we know they’re going to.”

Pia nodded slowly. “You’re right. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier.”

“I’m sorry. That will take time.”

Pia’s eyes filled with tears again. “It’s so damned unfair, you know? Crystal was a sweetie. She’d already lost so much. And then to die like this.”

Liz didn’t know what Pia was talking about. “I thought she was sick.”

“She was.” Pia sniffed. “I meant the other part. She was married. He was a soldier in Iraq.”

Liz looked around the room but didn’t see any men who fit that description. “Is he still over there?”

Pia shook her head. “He died. Because they knew that would be a possibility, they decided to make sure there were children. They used IVF to create several embryos before he left, just in case.”

Liz gasped. “Crystal has children?” That would make it worse.

“Not exactly. After her husband died, she went to have the embryos implanted. During a routine physical, she found out she had cancer.” Pia’s eyes filled again. “Can you imagine? She couldn’t even have her husband’s children. I don’t know how she kept going every day. She was so nice. I’ll never be that nice.”

Liz hugged her friend again. “You’re perfectly nice.”

“Not really. I try. I was horrible in high school, but you know that. I want to be better. I have her cat and I swear I’ll do everything possible to make that cat happy.” She sniffed again. “I guess I should buy a book or something. ‘Cat Happiness for Dummies.’”

Liz didn’t mean to be insensitive, but she couldn’t help laughing. “I’m not sure they have that title yet.”

“I have to do something. I guess I should really be grateful she only left me the cat. She had those embryos. I don’t know what arrangements she made for them.”

Liz hadn’t thought about that, but it made sense. Crystal would be concerned about her unborn children. “That would be a lot of responsibility,” she conceded quietly.

“Figuring out what to do with them?” Pia asked.

“Sure. Implied in the gift is the request to have the babies, then raise them.”

“I’m glad it’s not me,” Pia noted. “A cat is about all I could handle. I’m not very maternal.”

“You don’t know until you try.”

“I have trouble keeping plants alive. I don’t really do the nurturing thing.”

Liz shook her head. “Do you think I was prepared to have Tyler? You do what’s required. At first it’s hard, but then it gets easier.”

“I need a drink,” Pia muttered. “Let’s go see what Jo’s pouring.”

They made their way to the bar. Before they reached it, an older woman paused to glare at Liz.

She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach and wondered if she could escape out the back way. But before the plan formed, the woman spoke.

“You should have married him,” the older woman snapped, her eyes nearly as blue as her hair. A shapeless floral print dress hung past her knees and her sensible shoes gave her an extra inch of height. “It’s disgraceful. In my generation, if a girl got pregnant, she married the father of her child. Now young people have sex and don’t worry about the consequences.”

Liz opened her mouth, then closed it. What was there to say? Her mind was totally blank, except for the continual chanting of “Anywhere but here.”

Pia stepped in front of her and waved her index finger at the woman. “Back off, Esmeralda. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Liz was a kid. If you’re so concerned about what’s right, why didn’t you step in back then? Why didn’t you talk like this to Liz’s mother? Everyone knew what was happening at her house. Where was your moral code then?”

Esmeralda pressed her thin lips together. “Well, I never.”

“Now you have,” Pia declared firmly. “This is my friend’s wake. Do you really think Crystal would want you talking like this here?”

Liz, feeling all warm and fuzzy and supported, expected the older woman to snap back at Pia.

“You’re right,” Esmeralda said primly. She turned to Liz. “I apologize. For Crystal’s sake.”

“Thank you,” Liz acknowledged, stunned.

Pia linked arms with Liz and took her the rest of the way to the bar. “See? It’s not so bad here.”

“I can’t always count on you to rescue me.”

“I will if I’m there. And let me say for the record, that shows what an amazing person I am.”

Liz accepted the drink Jo passed her. “Because I don’t deserve you defending me?”

Pia took her drink, smiled her thanks, then turned back to Liz. “You walk really straight for someone with such a big chip on her shoulder. It’s impressive.”

Liz bristled. “I don’t have a chip.”

“Oh, please. It’s huge. The size of a small car. Which must make sleeping difficult.”

Liz narrowed her gaze. “Are you drunk?”

“No, but I plan to be.” She took a big swallow of her martini. “My point was you’re so damned perfect, I should hate you, but here I am taking your side. You should be grateful. And maybe buy me a diamond or something.”

Liz had barely sipped her own drink, but her head was spinning. “I’m not perfect.”

Pia rolled her eyes. “As if that’s true. Look at you. You were gorgeous in high school, and now you’re even more beautiful. Worse, you don’t seem to notice. It’s not like you go out of your way to be attractive. It just happens. Have you ever seen me in the morning? No. Well, let me just say without some serious work, I can’t walk out of the house. I would scar small children for life.”