Fool's Gold Collection Part 1: Chasing Perfect / Almost Perfect / Sister of the Bride / Finding Perfect
I was thinking we’d have a little parade and you can be the grand marshal. Then you can give the prizes at the finish. You know, the old guard, the new guard.”
Right. Because the highlight of his day would be handing out prize money to guys he used to race with. Guys who could still compete.
“Or you could even race,” she added with a wink. “Announce your comeback. It would mean a huge boost in publicity. The charity is for sick kids, Josh.”
“It always is.”
Marsha leaned toward Pia. “I think you’ve hit him with the highlights. Why don’t you give him a couple of days to think about all of this?”
“Okay, but we don’t have long. I would hate to see some other town snap up this opportunity.”
“That would be bad,” Josh said as Pia stood and left. He turned his attention to Marsha. “What do you think?”
“Pia’s a smart girl. This would be good for the town. Put us on the map.”
“I thought we already were.”
“It would bring a lot of attention to Fool’s Gold. Positive attention. Something other than a chapter in a thesis where the reality of who we are is reduced to statistics.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You want the race.”
Marsha studied him. “I want you to be comfortable with the decision we make. It’s a great opportunity, but there will be others.”
When he’d been a kid and his mother had dumped him in town and taken off, he’d been more alone and scared than any ten-year-old should be. Denise Hendrix had taken him in. Ethan had become his best friend. He’d been one of seven kids in a loud, happy, loving family. But there had been times when he’d never felt as if he truly fit in.
Whenever life at the Hendrix house had overwhelmed him, Marsha seemed to know. She would drop by during the late afternoon and take him out for dinner. In the quiet of a local restaurant, he felt comfortable talking about whatever was bothering him. She listened more than offered advice and most of the time, that was enough.
They’d never talked about what had happened during that last race. When he’d returned to Fool’s Gold, she’d told him that she was feeling old and frail and had insisted he spend the first week in her guestroom. He hadn’t been fooled. There was nothing frail about Marsha. She hadn’t wanted him to be alone and he’d been willing to pretend it was about her.
They’d never talked about Frank’s death or his fear, but he suspected she’d figured it all out. A theory she confirmed when she said, “You have a choice. Face the demons or keep running from them.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Why not? Ethan was hurt and you moved on.”
“I felt guilty.” But she was right. He’d moved on. But that had been different. Ethan’s accident had been one of those things. Frank’s death seemed more like his fault. “There’s no way to face them without everyone knowing.”
“What do you think will happen if everyone finds out the truth about you?”
A thousand things he didn’t want to consider.
“You should trust us more,” she said, rising. “Trust those of us who love you. You’re more than your fame, Josh. You always have been.”
Maybe, but was he enough without it?
“Running hasn’t worked so far,” she said as she walked to the door. “Maybe it’s time for a new plan.”
ROBERT INVITED CHARITY over to his place for dinner. He promised a grilled steak and the best salads the corner deli had to offer. Charity hoped that if they could hang out together, talking without any pressure or her being able to see Josh across the restaurant, that she would become more interested in Robert.
His house was within walking distance of the hotel, hardly a surprise, in a quiet residential neighborhood on a golf course. The homes were mostly two stories tall with big windows and well-groomed front yards. Robert’s was no exception, although it looked a little newer and better kept than the others on the block.
“Hi,” she said when Robert opened the front door. “I brought wine.”
“Something I really like in a woman,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her in, then lightly kissing her cheek. “You look great.”
“Thanks.”
She’d worn a short denim skirt with high-heeled sandals and a pale peach silky wrap shirt. Another new purchase designed to show the world, and herself, that she wasn’t always conservative. Buying the clothes had started an interesting ripple effect. When she’d started paying attention to what she wore, she’d found herself thinking about things like highlights and pedicures. She had an appointment for the former next week and would find out if the salon had a nail person while she was there.
She’d visited a large discount store and bought a bunch of new makeup to try, including a honey-jasmine body scrub she’d been using in the shower. It was fun being a girl, she thought, wondering how she could have allowed herself to forget.
“Shall I give you the tour?” he asked.
“I would like that.”
The main floor had high ceilings. The living room flowed into a formal dining room. Both had beautiful furniture that looked expensive. The big TV and hightech sound system could have been at home in a movie theater. There was a wet bar tucked into an alcove by the hallway, then the eat-in kitchen was in back. The patio beyond held a lush potted garden and a mansized grill with lots of knobs and storage.
“I can’t help it,” Robert said. “Fire good.”
“Those caveman roots are hard to cut.” She handed over the bottle of wine.
He opened it and poured them each a glass. Once they’d toasted and sipped, they went out onto the patio.
“Impressive garden,” she said. “I don’t know much about growing plants.”
“My mom liked to dig in the dirt,” he told her. “I started helping out when I was a kid. I can make nearly anything grow, which is both a blessing and a curse.” He pointed to a dozen or so small pots suspended on the fence. Each overflowed with some kind of a plant. “Herbs.”
“You grow your own?”
“My ex-fiancée and I did that together. Planted the seeds. Then, when things didn’t work out, I couldn’t bring myself to take them down. They keep growing. I don’t cook much, so I have no use for them. Every few weeks I bring in bags of them to the office. Once you get your place, you can take them home and use them if you’d like.”
“The assumption being I’ll know what they are and what to do with them?”
“They have books for that.”
“Apparently I’ll need to find a couple.”
Was it just her, or was keeping an herb garden born in a previous relationship a little odd? Especially when Robert didn’t use them himself?
Maybe not, she told herself. He was obviously a great gardener. That was nice. She shouldn’t be critical. This was a guy she wanted to get to know better.
“Did your mom have a big garden?” she asked.
“About a quarter acre. My parents were older when I was born. They’d given up on having a kid. Living in a small town, they didn’t have access to a fertility specialist. I’m not sure why they never adopted.”
He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the patio, then he sat next to her.
“They were excited to have me, but a little old-fashioned. They didn’t want me to go away to college, so I went locally. Then after