Julie Ortolon - Almost Perfect

"I told you, it's not on my diet."

"Amy, calories don't count when you're out of town." Christine shook her head. "Never mind.

There's bound to be a restaurant or gift shop inside. See what you can scare up."

Amy bit her lip as she studied the central lodge. "Okay, I can do this."

"You don't need to." Maddy put the shades back on and realized her head was now pounding. "I'm okay."

"No, I can handle it," Amy insisted. "Where's the gift shop?"

"Right inside the door."

"And our room?"

"We're in Alta Vista." Maddy pointed to a three-story adobe building perched at the end of a footpath above the parking lot. "Bottom corner suite on the left."

"Got it." Amy hurried off, digging in her purse for her wallet.

Moving to the back of the SUV, Christine popped the hatch. Maddy followed to help her with the luggage and was shouldered away. "Patients aren't allowed to tote and carry. You just lead the way."

"Come on. Y'all are being silly," Maddy protested weakly as Christine herded her up the path with a suitcase in each hand.

With their suite on the bottom level, they had a patio rather than a balcony. The twin patio doors opened into two units that could be separated with double doors or opened into one big unit. Since Joe hadn't come, Maddy had opened the doors.

"I put you and Amy in here." Maddy led the way into the side with two double beds. She'd taken the one with the single king on the remote hope that Joe would show up.

"Nice digs." Christine looked around as she de-posited the suitcases on the beds. "Western chic meets feng shui. Your new friends have good taste."

"I don't even want to think about what this room would cost if we were paying."

"Then don't. In fact, don't think about anything. Just sit." Christine pointed to the sofa before the kiva fireplace as she ducked into the bathroom.

Since obeying was easier than arguing, Maddy sat and rested her head against the back of the sofa. The draperies were open, so she left her sunglasses on and closed her eyes. A minute later she heard Christine return. The stinging red light behind her eyelids went wonderfully blue when the drapes closed with a swish of sound.

"Don't move," Christine told her, her voice coming closer. The sunglasses were removed-gently this time-and a damp washcloth settled over her eyes.

"Thank y-you-" Her voice broke, so she shut up.

"You just sit there and relax while I unpack a few things. We'll talk when Amy gets here."

Giving in to exhaustion, she stayed just as she was, struggling to regain control of her rioting emotions. She heard the zip of a suitcase being opened, rummaging, footsteps, the pop of a cork leaving a wine bottle.

Then the patio door opened with a tangible burst of happy energy and return of sunlight.

"Mission accomplished," Amy announced. "And I only took one wrong turn trying to find the kitchen."

"They didn't have chocolate bars in the gift shop?" Christine asked.

"They did. Really good ones, too. But I wanted to get this."

"You're that determined to stick to your diet?"

"No. It's for Maddy."

Christine burst out laughing.

Curious, Maddy lifted the corner of the washcloth. She found Amy standing just inside the patio door proudly holding a fistful of candy bars in one hand and an enormous cucumber in the other. She couldn't help it, she laughed as well.

"So"-Christine stifled her mirth-"is that supposed to console Maddy by replacing Joe?"

"What?" Amy frowned, then turned scarlet when understanding dawned. "You!" she scolded Christine as she closed the door, plunging the room back into semidarkness. "It's for her eyes. Cucumber slices take the swelling out."

"Ah." Christine grinned as she poured wine into hotel water glasses. "Well, bring it over and add it to the rest of our emergency supplies."

Maddy straightened, plucking at her hair where the cloth had dampened it. Christine had sej a bottle of wine on the coffee table along with a manicure kit, her laptop, which was booting up, and a small stack of DVDs.

"You brought movies?" Maddy lifted a brow.

"I was hoping we could kick Joe out for one evening and have a girls' night ogling Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp."

Maddy's throat went tight. "Looks like you got your wish."

"Oh, crap." Christine's shoulders slumped while Amy hurried over, sat on the sofa, and pulled Maddy into her arms.

"It's okay." Amy patted her back. Maddy gave in and slumped into her nurturing softness.

Big, humiliating, shoulder-shaking sobs wracked her body. "I'm sorry," she managed to say after several long minutes.

"Don't be." Amy soothed her by rubbing her palm on Maddy's back in circles. "Whatever happened, we're here. You can cry in front of us all you want."

"Thank you." Maddy sniffed as she straightened.

Christine sat on the coffee table facing her with a glass of red wine in her hand. "Here, drink this."

"Thanks." Maddy took a sip, hiccuping slightly.

"Now this." Christine held out a chocolate bar that was half unwrapped.

The chocolate was dark and rich and had a wonderful bite that made Maddy moan in unexpected ecstasy. Amy was right-they stocked the good stuff.

"Now," Christine said sternly. "Tell us what the bastard did, so we can decide whether or not he gets to live."

The chocolate turned to sawdust in Maddy's mouth. She managed to wash it down with a swallow of wine. "It wasn't him. It was me. Oh God, I've been so stupid!"

She bent forward in a rush, bracing her forearms against her thighs. The wineglass and chocolate bar magically disappeared, allowing her to hide her face in her hands. "Really, really stupid !"

Amy patted her back. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Only if Christine promises not to say 'I told you so.' "

"I swear upon my Hippocratic oath."

"Well, you were right." She sat back and accepted the wine again. "I should have talked to Joe weeks ago. Not about telling him I loved him- we really were making progress there-but about Sylvia's offer."

"Ah." Christine raised a brow. "He found out."

"Oh yeah."

"And he didn't take it well."

"You could say that." She took a drink. "Actually, he pretty much lost it. At the time, I was stunned. I couldn't figure out why he was so angry. All the way up here, I kept trying to sort it out. Well, actually, I started out arguing with him in my head about how ridiculous he was being. This wasn't like last time, when I put my own dreams and independence before him. It was exactly the opposite. I was putting him first. Putting us first.

"But something he said kept ringing through my own tirade, until I finally got it. I finally understood what he was saying."

"What?" Amy asked.

"He said he couldn't be with a woman who thought so little of him that she thought she had to make herself less in order for him to feel like he's more. And suddenly I realized something in this blinding flash that's humiliating to admit."

"What?" Amy's eyes went round.

"I've turned into my mother!"

"Now, there's a frightening thought," Christine said.

"Maybe not for everyone, but it is for me." Maddy remembered when Joe had had the same revelation about him becoming more like his mother, but at least Mama Fraser was someone she would want to be like. "What's worse is I was treat-ing Joe as if he was as big an insecure jerk as my Neanderthal father. No wonder he's insulted. I'm insulted for him." She covered her eyes. "And embarrassed and ashamed and really pissed at myself."

"Maddy"-Christine squeezed her knee-"this is hardly surprising. We all form our opinions about relationships based on the dynamics of our parents' relationship. It's what we grow up watching."

"Yes, but I grew up swearing I would never be like my mother."