Page 50 of Almost Perfect
“So. I’m guessing you’ve talked to Warrick, and he told you a tale.” It was the only explanation for her overt concern. Normally, she played it fairly cool when she suspected we had a problem.
“Warrick? Telling stories?Never.”
I raised a brow in response and took a sip of the scalding water. It’d move from painfully hot to too cold in the next five minutes thanks to the altitude.
“He may have mentioned you’re a little twisted up about Calla.” She pressed her lips together, staying a smile.
If I hadn’t spent the last week running myself ragged—both physically, on the treadmill, and mentally—I might’ve stalled or tried to pretend that wasn’t it. I didn’t love talking to her about these things in the same way I didn’t want to talk to anyone about them. But lately, it seemed like that wasallI talked about with Warrick, and so why not add her to my advisory committee? I couldn’t figure it out on my own, obviously enough.
And more importantly, more than anyone else, she might understand how I’d been feeling. What I’d just realized this time last week about how I’d truly been feeling.
“I am.”
Her brows rose. “Tell me.”
“I like her. A lot. But she’s leaving.”
“So? Air travel was invented quite a while ago. It’s this amazing thing.”
I never needed to wonder where the sass originated from when it came to Warrick. Pure Jane, and my grandma too, rest her soul.
“I feel like her time coming to an end should be the end, but the thought of not seeing her again, even as little as I do, seems wrong.”
“And why do you feel like it should be the end?”
“We’re too different. She’s bold and lives her life in the spotlight—good, bad, ugly. She’s a mess in more than one way, and I think that’d drive me crazy. Plus I’m… boring. I’m this small-town man, and I’ve been just fine with that my whole life. I never wanted something different.” I slugged down a sip of tea. Already almost lukewarm.
“So being different from someone rules them out?”
She tilted her head in a familiar way that shot me back to my teen years when she’d question me on my black-and-white approach to things. Just like now, which meant she had a point she was about to make, and when she did, it would likely hurt.
“I’ve always looked for someone like me. From here and interested in staying here. Someone to live a life that’s quiet—maybe simple—but meaningful because I believe loving your family and contributing to your community isn’t a waste.” My cheeks burned a little at this admission, like saying out loud that I had such small ambitions was something to be embarrassed about.
Was it?Was that why I had this pit in my stomach when I thought about Calla, specifically?
“Oh, honey. There is nothing wrong with that life. It’s very muchmylife.” She held my gaze for a moment, then continued. “But there is also nothing wrong with doing it another way.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
I swallowed, then slugged back the cold tea to avoid responding.
“Your father and I were opposites. Did you know that?”
I straightened, a hot bolt of longing and grief shooting through me at just the mention of Dad in this moment. “I don’t think so. I thought you guys were perfect together.”
That was my memory of them. I was just old enough to start rolling my eyes or pretending to be disgusted when they kissed, but mostly, I’d loved seeing them together. I could tell from across the room or across the field by the house that they loved each other. Even when they fought, they made up and made sure us kids knew it.
“Oh, I think we were. But he was so serious. And I was silly. He even told me I was a silly girl when we were kids. Little did he like to admit that this girl could ride a horse better than him and knew more about horsesandcows. I think that hooked him, when he finally realized it. But the point is, on paper, we might not’ve worked. But when we were together, it was like all those differences just made it sweeter. Sometimes harder—don’t get me wrong. But beautiful.”
Her soft smile had my throat tightening.
“I miss him.” It seemed crazy. It’d been nearly thirty years since he’d passed, and I still missed him so damned much.
“Me too. And it’s one reason I’ve never figured out what to do with myself. But I’ll tell you, it’s also the reason I am on that app.” She shut her eyes like it pained her to say but blinked them back open. “I know it may freak you and your brothers out, but I miss having someone. I missthatkind of love. And I want it again before I’m too old to enjoy it.”
I huffed. “You’re not too old. And you’re beautiful. But anyone who plans to date you is going to have to—”
