Susan Mallery - Finding Perfect

“I won’t,” Pia told her. “Fool’s Gold owes you.”

BY ELEVEN IT WAS APPARENT the town had come through to support the school. The items brought in for the yard sale had been snapped up, with most people insisting on paying two or three times the posted price. The donation bins were overflowing, as were the tables, and people just kept on coming.

Pia went from area to area, checking on her volunteers, only to discover she wasn’t needed. The event ran so smoothly, she started to get nervous.

Over by the mini food court, she bought a hot dog and a soda, telling the kid manning the cart to keep the change.

“Everyone’s doing that,” he said with a grin, stuffing the extra bills into a large coffee can nearly overflowing. “We’ve had to empty this twice already.”

“Good news,” she said, strolling over to one of the benches and taking a seat.

She was exhausted, but in a good way. Right now, in the middle of a sunny day, surrounded by her fellow citizens, she felt good. As if everything was going to be all right. Sure, the school had nearly burned down, but the town had pulled together and order had been restored. Order had always felt really good to her.

Three boys came running down the path. The one in back, a slight redheaded boy, plopped down next to her and grinned.

“There’s free lemonade over there,” he said, pointing across the park.

“Let me guess. You’ve already had a couple of glasses.”

“How’d you know?”

“I can see the happy glow of sugar in your eyes. I’m Pia.”

“I’m Peter.” He wrinkled his nose. “I go to the school that burned down. Everybody’s doing all this so we can get back to class.”

She held in a smile. “Not your idea of a good time?”

“I like school, I guess.”

Peter looked to be about nine or ten, with freckles and big brown eyes. He was skinny but had a wide smile that made her want to grin in return.

“What would you rather do than go to school?” she asked.

A shadow crossed his face then cleared. “I like to play baseball. I used to play T-ball when I was little.”

“Are you in Little League now?”

He shook his head. “My foster dad says it’s too expensive and takes too much time.”

That didn’t sound good. “Do you like other sports?”

“I like to watch football. They have those funny things they do with their hands. I try to watch what they’re doing, but it’s hard to see.”

“You know they make those up,” she told him. “There’s not just one right way.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“Uh-huh. Come on.” She put her soda on the ground and tossed her hot dog foil and napkin in the trash, then she faced Peter. “We’ll make one up now. I’ll do a step, then you do a step.”

She made a fist with her right hand. He did the same. They bumped top and bottom, then fist to fist, followed by an open-palm slap and a back-of-hand bump. He added two finger wiggles, and she ended with a double clap.

“All right!” Peter stood in front of her. “Let’s do it really fast.”

They went through the sequence twice, without a mistake.

“You’re good,” Pia told him.

“You, too.” He glanced down the path and saw his friends. “I gotta go.”

“Okay. Have fun. Don’t drink too much more lemonade.”

He laughed and took off at a run.

Pia collected her drink and stood. It was time to get back to work. As she grabbed her paperwork, she saw Jo crossing the lawn, headed for the auction postings.

Her first thought was to chase after her friend and ask about Jake. Did he seem to miss her? Was he settling in? Then she remembered how the cat had crawled onto Jo’s lap and started purring within ten minutes of arriving at her house. Of course he was doing well.

She turned and ran into someone tall, broad and strong. Jostled soda spilled out of the paper cup and trickled down the front of the man’s shirt.

Pia groaned and raised her eyes only to encounter Raoul’s amused gaze.

“Small-town initiation?” he asked.

“Sorry.” She stepped back and brushed his chest, which proved to be more enjoyable than she would have expected. “It’s diet. It won’t stain or anything.”

“I’m fine.” He took her hand in his and stilled the movement but didn’t release her fingers. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who got doused.”

His touch was light, barely noticeable, yet she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. His skin was warm. She could feel individual calluses, the power he kept contained.

The power he kept contained? What was this—a bad movie script? Who thought like that?

Apparently her, she realized as she looked back into his eyes and discovered she didn’t want to turn away. Which made her immediately pull free of his hold.

“So, thanks for your donation. It’s very impressive. You really did enough with donating the camp.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he said easily. “I was happy to help.”

“Good. We should all help, especially now. With the whole burned-down-school thing.”

His dark eyebrows pulled together. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

No way she was going to mention that the feel of his skin on hers had thrown her. Not only was it irrational, a declaration like that put her into the scary-stalker category.

She searched around for another explanation.

“I saw Jo,” she said quickly. “The friend who took the cat?”

He nodded.

“I wanted to ask if Jake missed me, which is dumb, right? He obviously adores her. I was just a way station in the feline road of life. She’s a destination. I just…”

“What?”

“I keep thinking if I can’t make a cat happy, what chance do I have with kids?”

His expression sharpened. “You’re going to have them?”

“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” She sighed. “Maybe. I know that’s what Crystal wanted. And no matter how many times I tell myself they’re not my responsibility, I feel they are. I’m female. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume I have all the working equipment.”

She could do more than assume, she reminded herself. She knew for sure.

Don’t go there, she told herself. Not today. Not now. Wasn’t there enough going on without a side trip to Guilt Land?

“You’ll have someone else’s children and then raise them?” he asked.

“It’s not like I’m going to have them and give them away.”

“Why not?”

She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Why wouldn’t you give them away? There are hundreds of couples who are longing for children of their own. Infants are easy to place, aren’t they? You could handpick the couple yourself, be sure the babies are going to be well taken care of.”

That had never occurred to her. Give Crystal and Keith’s babies away? Despite the warm afternoon, a shiver raced through her.

“No,” she said firmly. “If that was what she wanted, she would have mentioned it in the will. Crystal took the trouble to pay for three years of storage. She wanted to give me time.”

“She didn’t warn you about what she was going to do.”

“I know and that confuses me, but it doesn’t change reality. If I have the babies, I’ll keep them. And raise them.” No matter how the thought of it made her stomach flip over and over.

He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. “I don’t know many women who would be willing to take that on.”

“Really? Because I don’t know many who would refuse.”

“You can’t believe that.”

She thought about her friends—how they looked out for each other. “I’m fairly sure.”

“As sure as Crystal was of you? You’re the one she picked.”