Just South of Perfect

by Grace Palmer

  Alma poured Stella a glass, making it difficult to refuse, so she tentatively joined the group of women assembled on the porch. She anticipated a questionnaire—a small investigation into her life and her background—but the women acted as though Stella had always been there. As though she wasn’t intruding at all but was a beloved member of their crew.

  “I wonder when Melanie and Colin are going to finally get engaged,” Georgia pondered, staring at the cloud of dust left in the wake of Melanie’s car.

  “They’ve only been dating a few months,” Gwen said.

  Alma flapped her wrist and shook her head. “It’s love. Everyone can see it.”

  “Melanie has always been my romantic. Drew and Tasha were wild—Richard called them incorrigible—but Melanie is stable.”

  “Wouldn’t that mean she’s unlikely to get married so fast?” Stella asked.

  “It means she is due for a little spontaneity,” Georgia corrected, smiling at the thought. “She deserves a good man. She spends her life taking care of everyone else—”

  “—and their pets,” Alma added.

  “And their pets,” Georgia agreed. “So, it’s high time she started taking care of herself.”

  Wasn’t that what Brenda had said to Stella just the day before? She’d devoted eighteen years of her life to raising Jace, and it was time she focused on herself. The only problem was, Stella didn’t know what that looked like yet. She’d spent the day painting sets and had enjoyed it, but did that count as taking care of herself and focusing on her hobbies? Or had she been doing it just because Tasha asked? Helping other people and devoting her talents to their needs came so second nature to Stella that she didn’t always realize she was doing it. It felt like an impulse. A trained habit. What would it feel like to have someone like that in her life? Someone who jumped into action at every need and whim? Someone who did their best to make her life easier?

  Someone like Sam?

  His name came unbidden into her mind, and Stella silently chastised herself. She hardly knew Sam, and based on how visibly uncomfortable he was over lunch, he probably wouldn’t make any more efforts to get to know her, either.

  The reminder of her flirting made her feel itchy. Was it even flirting? Stella didn’t know. It had been a friendly lunch, and she’d thought she was paying him a friendly compliment, but maybe she went too far.

  “Melanie should snatch Colin up before another girl does,” Alma said, pulling Stella from her thoughts. “There is a shortage of quality men around here, and she shouldn’t let him go.”

  The women all began talking at once, agreeing that Colin seemed as in love with Melanie as she was with him.

  “He doesn’t have eyes for anyone else,” Gwen said.

  “A love match!” Georgia exclaimed.

  When they settled down, Stella quietly interjected. “From my vantage point, Willow Beach has more than its fair share of quality men. I’ve met nothing but perfect gentlemen—Drew, Eddie, and Sam.”

  She said Sam’s name with some hesitation but decided it would be stranger to not mention him. The women would wonder why she’d left him off—if he had done something to offend her.

  No, Stella thought, but I may have offended him.

  “They’re all taken,” Gwen explained.

  “Drew is with a sweet, darling woman named Ashley. She’s actually been interning down at the clinic with Melanie before she goes off to veterinary school, and we just adore her. And Eddie is with Tasha.” Georgia pressed a hand to her heart and sighed. “Both Eddie and Ashley have done so much for my kiddos. The last year or so has been hard on them, but they’ve found love and inspiration and motivation, and I couldn’t be happier for them.”

  Stella admired Georgia’s obvious love and devotion for her children, but her mind was still caught on what Gwen said. “And Sam? Is he taken, too?”

  If he was, Stella thought she might melt and drip between the wooden slats of the porch. She’d danced with Sam at the Duke Saloon, and she had had a picnic lunch with him. Yes, nothing had happened, but if he was seeing someone, then he should have mentioned it. She was almost ready to get offended in preparation when Georgia’s face lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks display.

  “Oh no!” Georgia said, almost shouting it. “Sam is single. Always has been. He is great, but he’s never settled down with anyone.”

  Stella tried to tell if Georgia sounded wistful, but Alma grabbed her attention before she could look too closely. “Sam is the other one who ought to get snatched up quickly. It’s a shame for a man like that to be wasted.”

  “I don’t think Sam is wasted,” Gwen said. “He has a lot going for him.”

  “Of course, he does. But his charms are wasted. No one down at the auto shop appreciates his careful concern as much as a woman would.”

  “You don’t think Sam hasn’t heard this his whole life?” Georgia asked. “People have been pressuring him to find a woman for years. Let the poor man live. Everyone moves in their own time.”

  “His time is almost up,” Alma teased.

  “He and I are the same age!” Georgia raised her brows, questioning Alma’s meaning, but Alma didn’t back down. She took a sip from her wineglass and offered a not-at-all innocent shrug, which made Georgia kick the woman’s booted foot off the coffee table in revenge.

  “I’m just saying we aren’t exactly spring chickens,” Alma explained. “If he is going to find love, he ought to do it soon. Whereas Melanie and Colin have nothing but time.”

  Georgia threw her arm over Stella’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Well, I think Stella and I are both plenty young enough to find love if that is what we want. Age is just a number, and love has no expiration date. It can come along at any time.”

  Stella appreciated the support, but she also wondered whether Georgia wasn’t envisioning a future with Sam. The two of them had been friends for years, and the way she staunchly defended his right to be single made Stella wonder if Georgia didn’t prefer him as a single man.

  Without realizing it, she finished her glass of wine, and she felt suddenly bold. She was moments away from asking Georgia outright if she was interested in Sam when Alma pointed to the road. “Speaking of love, here it comes for you, Georgia.”

  Stella turned around as a blue Jeep pulled up in front of the inn and a man with graying blond hair got out. Georgia jumped up and jogged down the porch to the obnoxious whoops and whistles of her two friends. Before Stella could wonder about the nature of the relationship, Georgia stepped onto her toes to give the man a kiss.

  “Is that her boyfriend?” Stella asked.

  “Yes sirree. Mr. Joel Abbot. The two of them bonded over their flaky spouses a few months ago, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.” Alma poured herself another glass of wine and then splashed a bit more into the bottom of Stella’s glass, too. “Their infatuation would be nauseating if I wasn’t so gosh-darn happy for them.”

  As Joel and Georgia stared lovingly at one another, talking about things Stella couldn’t hear, she found herself feeling happy for them, too. They looked so happy in each other’s arms. It meant that maybe what Georgia said was true: love really didn’t have an expiration date.

  And it also meant that one particular folksy, picnic-packing car mechanic was in fact available.

  10

  On Sunday, Stella managed to wake up in time for breakfast. A few other guests at the inn were sitting at the tables in the dining room, sipping on hot coffee and complimenting Georgia on her delicious cooking every time she passed by.

  “Take a seat,” Georgia said, balancing a stack of dirty plates in one hand and gesturing to an empty table with the other. “Let me know what you want, and I’ll bring it right out.”

  This was Stella’s first time seeing Georgia in her element, helping guests and multitasking. To put it plainly, she was in awe. She was also glad she now knew for certain Sam and Georgia were not an item because jealousy would be eating her alive. Even knowing as
little as she did about Georgia, Stella was positive she was a good woman. And adding ‘great hostess’ to her laundry list of good qualities would feel impossible to live up to. Now, Stella knew she didn’t have to worry.

  Georgia was taken.

  And Sam was not.

  It didn’t matter though—not really. Stella wasn’t going to stay in Willow Beach. She was only passing through, but there was no reason she couldn’t make the most of her time here, right?

  By the time she finished her pancakes and scrambled eggs—and added ‘impeccable cook’ to Georgia’s list of talents—Stella had decided. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was going to do something illogical. She was going to do something for no other reason than she wanted to. It might blow up in her face, but at least she’d be able to tell Brenda she tried.

  Sam was in the back of the shop when Stella walked in. He had on his denim coveralls again, but he’d slid his arms out of the sleeves and had them wrapped around his waist instead, revealing his plain white T-shirt underneath. He looked like the male model version of an auto mechanic. Like the kind of mechanic you’d find in a calendar full of hunky firemen, doctors, and police officers. Suddenly, doubt clouded Stella’s resolve.

  Just because Georgia was seeing someone didn’t mean Sam wasn’t still interested. If he’d been single all these years, even when she was with Richard, he could have been waiting for her. If he had waited that long, why not wait a bit longer for Joel to be out of the picture?

  “Hey, Stella. I was wondering if you’d be stopping by today.”

  Stella’s racing thoughts stopped short when she realized Sam had noticed her lurking in the doorway, thereby ruining her plan to confidently sashay up to him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled to try and salvage the situation. “Tasha didn’t drag me into the theater to paint today, so I have nothing better to do.”

  “Nothing better to do in Willow Beach? Bah. Have you been to the beach yet? It’s great this time of year. Still warm, but not as crowded as in the height of summer. Or a meal at the Italian place on the opposite end of Main Street? You haven’t lived until you’ve had an espresso and one of their cannolis.”

  Sam seemed more nervous than usual, and Stella wondered if he was offering to escort her to these places. He had hinted at the two of them spending more time together the night they danced at the Duke Saloon, but that was before their uncomfortable lunch yesterday. He might have changed his mind, and Stella didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

  “I’m not sure I’ll have time for all of that if my car is going to be done today.”

  “Darn. Once again, I hoped all of that would entice you to decide to stay. That way it wouldn’t be forced upon you.”

  Stella scanned the shop behind him and didn’t see her car lifted up on the risers. Actually, she didn’t see her car in the shop at all. She looked back towards the parking lot and saw it sitting in the same spot at the back of the lot it was the day before. Sam looked apologetic when their eyes met again. “I’m assuming that means you don’t have the part for my car yet?”

  His shoulders shrugged forward and he released an exasperated breath. “I really tried, but it just isn’t going to happen. The guy who was supposed to run the part over, ironically, had some engine trouble, and he won’t be able to get here until tomorrow.”

  Yesterday, Stella would have been disappointed. She would have been worried about making it to Boston in time. In time for what, she couldn’t really say anymore. But after making her decision over breakfast, she was relieved that she’d be spending one more night in Willow Beach.

  “I know you wanted to get to Boston,” Sam continued. “Like I said the other day, I could set you up with a rental—I might even be able to get you a discount—but it will still be pretty expensive. And there really is a lot to do here in Willow Beach. No offense to Tasha, but the local theater is not usually the sight tourists come to see. If that’s all you do here, it would be pretty sad.”

  “I don’t need a rental. Really. It’s not a problem.”

  “I wish all of my customers were like you,” he said wistfully. “I am still sorry, though. I know you were excited about your plans.”

  Plans? What plans? As far as Stella was concerned, the only plan she had in her future was one little question. After that, a gray, unknowable haze.

  She took a deep breath. “If you are as sorry as you sound, maybe you’ll feel compelled to make it up to me? Perhaps by showing me all of the noteworthy sights and bites in Willow Beach? I can find them myself, but I wouldn’t mind a local’s perspective.”

  Sam hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Stella to doubt herself and every piece of advice she had ever given her son in regards to dating.

  When he wanted to ask his crush to the homecoming dance his freshman year in high school, Stella asked, “What’s the worst she can say?”

  “No!” Jace’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his shaggy hair, and his face was pale. “She could turn me down and traumatize me from ever asking another girl out ever again.”

  She’d chuckled to herself later at the teenage dramatics. Everything seemed like it was life or death when you were young. The stakes felt so much higher, the risks so much bigger. Eventually, though, you grew up and learned that life wasn’t that exciting, and a little rejection wasn’t going to kill you.

  Stella had actually believed all that—until this very moment.

  Because standing in front of Sam, waiting for him to answer, she felt like she might die if he said no.

  She felt like she’d be traumatized from ever asking another man out on a date ever again, and it begged the question: had life gotten less exciting or had Stella gotten less exciting?

  Over the years, every man she had gone out with had been the one to ask her. Usually, they’d approach her at work or the coffee shop, nervously asking if she’d get a drink with them at the end of the day, and Stella agreed like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. She knew she didn’t like them in that way. She knew the date was just a way to pass some time, not an attempt to actually start a relationship.

  This moment should feel like that, she tried to tell herself.

  I’m only in Willow Beach for a few days. I can’t have a relationship with Sam. This is just a way to pass time.

  Maybe all of that was true. Maybe she didn’t really like Sam as much as her pounding heart was telling her she did, but either way, this was the first time she had asked a man out on a date since Jace’s dad, and she was certain she would evaporate from the sheer heat of embarrassment if he refused her.

  “That is where you’re wrong,” Sam said with a roguish grin, interrupting Stella’s spiral of panicked thoughts. “You can’t find all of my favorite spots because not everyone knows about my favorite spots.”

  “Oh, they’re secret? Any chance an outsider can be privy to those secrets?”

  He twisted his lips to the side and crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I swore to the Society I wouldn’t betray my sacred duties of secrecy.”

  Stella’s mouth fell open before she registered the sly grin on Sam’s face. “You’re kidding.”

  He laughed. “Yes, I’m kidding. And yes, I can share my secrets with you. How about tonight? I can pick you up at the inn around six? I’ll need to go home and shower off the grease before I’m presentable enough to take a lady of your caliber out on the town.”

  He was smooth. Practiced, almost. Stella had felt like she was going to shake out of her skin when she asked Sam out, but he was calm and casual. Stella realized she had no idea how often Sam had done this.

  Just because everyone, including him, admitted he hasn’t dated anyone seriously didn’t mean he didn’t date at all. The revelation brought along the feeling of jealousy Stella had grown quite familiar with over the last few days, but she shoved it down and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  It wasn’t until she was walking down Main Street towards The Roast
in search of another almond croissant and latte that Stella realized she didn’t have anything to wear. Her dress was sweaty and dusty from being stranded on the side of the road, and her favorite pair of jeans were now a little worse for the wear, thanks to her Saturday spent painting sets.

  Maybe she should go back and tell Sam not to shower away the grease before their date. At least if he didn’t, they’d be on more equal footing. Mentally rifling through her suitcase, Stella decided she was going to be wearing her boring gray slacks and a Maine Red Claws T-shirt from the baseball game she and Jace attended last winter.

  When Stella walked into The Roast, still deep in thought, Vivienne greeted her by name. “Stella Pierce. I am honored to receive your patronage again. Is this your last stop before you’re on your way out of town?”

  “Actually, no. Sam just told me it’s going to be another day on the car.”

  Vivienne frowned slightly before offering a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. Sam is usually able to take care of people pretty quickly. Your car must be a real mess for it to be taking this long. How about an almond croissant on the house to make up for it?”

  Stella tried to refuse, but Vivienne wouldn’t hear of it. “These are going to be stale in a few hours, anyway, and if you don’t eat them, I will.”

  “Then it sounds like I’ll be doing you a favor.” Stella eagerly grabbed the croissant, warm from its quick trip through the microwave, and nibbled on the flaky, buttery end while Vivienne made her brown sugar honey latte. “Sam is trying to make amends with me, too. He agreed to show me around town tonight.”

  She resisted mentioning it as a date, but the way Vivienne’s head snapped to attention and her eyes went wide told Stella she had caught on anyway. Vivienne froze, the steamed cup of milk in her hand, poised in a half pour over the cup of espresso. “Sam is taking you out?”

  “He said I needed to visit the beach and try a cannoli from a restaurant around here.”

  Vivienne whistled under her breath and deftly poured the steamed milk into the mug, making a curved leaf on the surface. “Well, isn’t that special? Either he feels really bad about the delay, or he really likes you. Probably both, knowing him.”