Just South of Perfect

by Grace Palmer

  And she wanted so badly to earn his trust.

  It seemed silly since she’d be back home soon, the citizens of this wonderful little beach town just a memory, but she wanted to be the person who learned his secrets. He’d trusted her enough to go on a date when not many women had gotten this far, so Stella had hoped. Or rather, she used to.

  Now, she was fairly certain she was being delivered back to the inn to spend the rest of the night alone in her room.

  When the top of the inn came into view over the trees, Stella sighed. “If I’d known you were going to take me home, I never would have agreed to this adventure.”

  Sam glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Is that so? You were having a good time, then?”

  She didn’t want to manipulate him into extending the date, but what other choice did she have? Stella turned to Sam, slipping her seat belt under her arm to keep it from cutting against her neck. “As a matter of fact, yes, I was. I had a lovely evening.”

  “Is that so?” he asked again, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

  “Yes,” she sighed. “Here’s a tip for you: don’t promise a woman an adventure and then take her home. What kind of adventure is that?”

  “A bad one.” Sam nodded his head passionately. “It’s a horrible adventure. I can’t imagine why anyone would do such a thing. Especially if the date is going so well.”

  Stella had the distinct feeling Sam was making fun of her, but she couldn’t work out why. Was it because the date wasn’t going as well as she thought? Was this his way of telling her he was having a bad time, which was why he was taking her home?

  It seemed out of character for Sam, but only if she assumed her judgment of his character was correct. What if he had a cruel streak she didn’t know about? Maybe that was why he didn’t date often. Surely, one of the Baldwins would have mentioned it to her, but then again, maybe not. Stella was only a guest at the inn, after all. Their kindness could simply be good customer service. Stella had imagined them as friends of sorts, but perhaps that was naïve.

  Suddenly, Stella was too afraid to say anything, lest it give Sam more reasons to tease her, so she crossed her arms and stayed quiet.

  She stayed quiet as Sam drove up the road towards the inn. She stayed quiet as the sprawling lawn and wide, white façade of the inn swam into view.

  And she stayed quiet as Sam took a right just before the inn’s driveway and continued on down the road.

  Only when the inn was once again out of view did she say anything, her voice soft and embarrassed. “You weren’t taking me home?”

  Sam pursed his lips together, holding back a laugh. “No, I wasn’t. Though, I have to admit I’m flattered the idea upset you so much.”

  Her embarrassment quickly shifted to a playful annoyance, and she swatted at him with the back of her hand. “And to think I thought you were so nice. That was a mean trick!”

  “You think I’m nice?” He batted his lashes at Stella, and she couldn’t work out if she wanted to hit him again or laugh. In the end, she did both.

  “So where are we going then?”

  Sam reached across the truck and patted Stella’s knee, still chuckling to himself over the misunderstanding. “One of my favorite places in all of Willow Beach.”

  Two minutes later, Sam pulled his truck off the road, parking along the overgrown shoulder of the road in the shadow of a row of trees. He hopped out of the truck and jogged around to open Stella’s door before she could do it herself. His smile was so genuine that even though Stella wanted to feign annoyance with him for a few more minutes, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She took his hand and let him lead her away from the truck and the road.

  “Your favorite place in Willow Beach is barely in Willow Beach.” They were walking through a crop of trees, but Stella could smell the salt of the ocean and hear waves lapping against the shore.

  “It’s on the very edge of town, which is why it’s my favorite. Not very many people know about this place or care about it. The main beaches are where the tourists like to go since they can ride the tram back and forth from the shops and restaurants on Main Street. This place takes a little more effort to get to.”

  The evening was warm, and the air felt heavy with moisture, but the air just off the water was cooler, and Stella shivered. Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the smell of him surrounding her, and Stella forgot what this felt like.

  All of it: the excitement, the nerves, the self-doubt. It’d been so long since she cared seriously for a man that she forgot the constant roller coaster of emotions.

  Three days ago, she was sitting in her living room watching a soap opera on television, and now, here she was—living one.

  Well, maybe not exactly. She didn’t have a long-lost evil twin or a dearly departed husband who came back from the dead. But Stella had romance, and that was more than enough excitement for her.

  The trees opened up all at once like curtains being pulled back on a stage, and Stella gasped at the sight before her.

  Tall grass gave way to rocks and sand, and the earth sloped down to the water. Illuminated only by the silver light of the moon, the water seemed to glow a deep emerald. Rocks hemmed in the pool on all sides, with two openings on either end feeding water in and taking it away.

  “It’s a natural lagoon as far as I can tell,” Sam said. His voice startled Stella because, for a moment, she’d forgotten he was there. “If it was man-made, they did a great job. You’d never know it.”

  “How is this place a secret?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged and rubbed warmth into Stella’s shoulder with his hand. “In my experience, good things often go underappreciated.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was talking about her or himself, but in either regard, she had to agree.

  They navigated the slope carefully, Sam holding tightly to Stella’s arm to make sure she didn’t fall, and then found a flat, dry rock along the water’s edge to sit on.

  “Richard and Georgia used to bring the kids out here to swim,” he said, looking out over the water, old memories playing behind his eyes. “It’s a bit warmer than the rest of the Atlantic, probably because the water is shallow here and it pools long enough to be warmed by the sun.”

  “So, it’s not a complete secret?”

  “I guess not,” he admitted. “But it’s a family secret.” He said it easily, without any hesitation or doubt.

  “The Baldwins really are your family, aren’t they?”

  “They were the only family I had for a while. My parents both died when I was in my twenties, and I’m an only child, so it was just me until I met Richard.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Stella couldn’t imagine losing her parents so young. When her dad died, she was well into her forties, and the loss still made her feel like a helpless child. Her siblings thought she was cold because of the way she planned and prepared for the inevitable as he got sicker and sicker, but it was the only way Stella could get up every day. Being prepared and taking control was the only way she could get out of bed, take care of Jace, and get to work. It gave her the illusion she was in control of her father’s death, when in reality, she was losing it.

  How would she have reacted if she’d been in her twenties? Her parents had helped out so much. Her dad had stepped in as a kind of surrogate father for Jace, roughhousing and wrestling with him even when his knees ached and it was hard for him to get up off the floor.

  Stella didn’t need to run the scenario in her head to know she would have been lost without her parents. Yes, she’d stepped up to the challenge of being a single mother and had raised a great son, but she certainly didn’t do it alone.

  “Richard and I met at the auto body shop not long after it happened. He and Georgia were in town visiting her family, and they hit a possum on the road, and he wanted to get the car looked at. Really, I think he wanted to get away from Georgia’s parents for a bit, but I didn’t mind. We hit it off right awa
y. He was a good guy.”

  Stella didn’t miss the use of the past tense, as though Richard was dead.

  “Then, I met his family, and I mean, how can you not fall in love with that bunch? Drew bounced off the walls of any room he was in, bubbling with energy. Melanie was soft-spoken even as a kid, but she liked me. I never interrupted her while she was reading. And Tasha,” Sam laughed and shook his head. “Tasha has always been and will always be Tasha—passionate, opinionated, and determined.”

  “And Georgia?” Stella asked, genuinely curious. Her motivation wasn’t jealousy like it might have been before. She really wanted to know.

  “Georgia held them all together,” Sam said with a smile. “Richard wasn’t the most paternal person. He struggled to connect with the kids sometimes, but Georgia helped bridge the gap. She’d nudge him towards Drew when she knew he was struggling at school, and she’d recommend an old movie he could watch with Tasha. Richard and Melanie were alike enough that Georgia didn’t need to help him with her. They’d sit in silence together and everything would work itself out.” His brow furrowed. “At least, I thought it did.”

  “He never talked to you about his problems?” Stella asked. Sam had already said once that he had no idea Richard planned to leave, but Stella couldn’t understand how the two men could be friends for so long without Sam having some idea Richard was unhappy.

  “Never,” Sam said. “We talked about sports and cars, and whenever I mentioned the kids or Georgia, he’d say everything was fine. It seemed fine from the outside, so I never thought to question it. Then, he left Georgia and the kids.”

  “And you,” Stella added gently, laying a hand on Sam’s elbow. “He is your friend, and he shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

  “Was my friend.” Sam let out a rough sigh. “I don’t even care that he left me. I care that he left those kids. I know they’re adults, but I know better than most that twenty-somethings still need their parents. I never said that to Richard outright, but he knew how I felt about my parents being gone. So, the fact that he’d willingly do that to his own kids? It’s unforgivable to me. He deserted them and left Georgia to handle it all on her own.”

  “She isn’t handling it on her own, though.”

  Sam turned to Stella, mouth turned down in a frown.

  “You’re helping her,” she continued. “You’re helping all of them. I’ve only been here a few days, and it’s as clear as day that you love those kids, and they love you back.”

  “I’m not their dad.” Sam lowered his head as he spoke, and Stella could see how much that fact weighed on him. He was not their dad. He wasn’t anyone’s dad. To Stella, that seemed like a great injustice because Sam would make an amazing father.

  “No,” she said. “But I don’t think that matters. My son’s biological father wasn’t in the picture at all. He sent a few lousy birthday cards and called a couple times, but he didn’t do any actual fathering. But my dad stepped up to help. It didn’t matter than he was Grandpa; he was the male role model my son needed. He taught Jace how to treat other people and how to be kind. He taught him what a real man looks like—not someone who is physically strong or emotionally tough, but someone who is honest and tender, who cares for the people around him fiercely. Someone like you.”

  Sam’s eyes crinkled with a self-conscious smile. “By that definition, you’re a real man too, Stella.”

  She threw her head back and laughed long and loud.

  “I’m no good with words. But I mean it. Kind of,” he said with a shrug. “You’re a good person. You’re honest and kind, and I’m sure all the people in your life are grateful to have you.”

  “That list is pretty short, I’m afraid.” Stella spoke the words before she could really consider them, and they surprised even her. “I just mean, I don’t have many friends. My parents, Jace, a few people at work. I guess I was so busy taking care of my son that I forgot to have a life of my own. That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?”

  “No.” Sam shook his head and looked out over the water, his eyes fixed on some distant point. “It’s just further proof that you’re a good one, Stella Pierce. You gave parenting your all, and you were amazing at it, and now it’s time for the next adventure.”

  Stella snorted. “Any idea what that adventure is going to be?”

  “Boston? Wasn’t that your plan?”

  Again, Stella had nearly forgotten about Boston altogether. That had been her dream when she was young. When Brenda stood in her living room and asked her what she wanted, it was the only thing Stella could think of. Boston. Big-city life. Now, Stella couldn’t really picture it.

  “You know better than anyone that life rarely goes according to plan. I’ve never been one to believe in signs from the universe, but maybe I should take the breakdown on the side of the road and the car-part delays as a sign that Boston isn’t meant to be.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Sam said quickly. “I mean, crazy things happen all the time. Maybe the breakdown is a test—a hurdle for you to jump over. I wouldn’t give up so quickly.”

  “That’s just it, though. I don’t even know what I’m giving up. Boston was just the first place I could think of. I don’t think it’s my dream, necessarily.”

  They both went quiet for a while, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was peaceful. Stella felt perfectly comfortable sitting next to Sam in the dark, both of them lost in their own thoughts. It was the calmest Stella had felt in a long time.

  Eventually, Sam cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Well, if it isn’t your dream, that’s one thing. But if it is, don’t let this delay deter you. I’d hate to think you gave up on your dreams because of me.”

  “I won’t give up on my dreams, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be your fault, Sam. You can’t control when the part arrives.”

  Sam smiled and nodded, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. Stella could tell he didn’t entirely believe her.

  The conversation ebbed and flowed, focusing on lighter subjects before dipping back into something heavier. It wasn’t anything important—Sam loved rare steak and the color green, and he worried about Drew Baldwin more than himself—but sometimes, the little things mattered more than one might expect.

  “He’s capable of anything, and I hope he knows that,” Sam said. “Getting cut from the baseball team hurt him a lot, but it’s not the end of his road. It’s only a hurdle. He’s a great writer, and he could pursue sports journalism if he put his mind to it. He’s also wonderful with kids, so he’ll make a great coach. But more than any of that, he has a good thing going with Ashley, his girlfriend who is studying to be a vet, and I hope he doesn’t let her get away. He keeps telling me he wants to be settled before he makes a commitment, but look how that turned out for me.”

  “Was there someone you let get away?” Stella asked.

  “No, because I didn’t even want to date before I felt settled. I didn’t want to get into anything serious until I knew I could make it work long-term. And you know what? I still don’t feel settled.” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m as settled as any person could be—with a business and a house and great friends—and I don’t feel settled the way I thought I would as a kid. From what I can work out, that’s because none of those things are what I really wanted. Family is what I always wanted. If I’d focused on that, instead, I think I’d feel settled.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  Sam tilted his head to the side and grinned. “I know. It took me longer than I’d like to realize, but I still have time.”

  His eyes on her felt heavy—not with expectation or pressure, but with hope. Stella didn’t flatter herself by thinking Sam could already be hopeful she would be “the one” for him, but she could see that something about her presence in Willow Beach had given him hope. The fact that he’d agreed to this date after refusing so many others meant he had hope. Stella could very well be the first step towards Sam finally feeling settled, and while she was happy fo
r him, his hope settled on her shoulders like a heavy, wet blanket.

  She’d be leaving soon, and she wouldn’t see how Sam’s story played out. Or Drew’s. Or any of the other Baldwins’.

  She wouldn’t get to know Alma and grow accustomed to her booming voice and big personality.

  She wouldn’t get to see how her sets looked in Meet Me in St. Louis or see Sam’s hand-built trolley roll out for the trolley song.

  Instead, Stella would go back to her house that felt suddenly too big. She’d go back to her job that felt suddenly too restrictive. And she’d go back to her social circle that felt suddenly too sparse.

  “It’s not too late for you, either.” Sam nudged Stella’s arm, pulling her from her thoughts.

  For a minute, it felt like he had been reading her mind, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. “What?”

  “Boston,” he said. “It’s not too late for you to make it to Boston. The part will be in tomorrow. I’ll fix your car, send you on your way, and you can get back to your vacation as planned.”

  “Oh.” Stella searched Sam’s face for any sign of disappointment at her departure. Would he miss her? Was he hoping she’d stay? If he was, she didn’t see any signs of it in his face. He was smiling down at her, and Stella did her best to smile back. “That’s good news.”

  Before they left, Sam grabbed Stella’s hand and led her across the pebbly sand and closer to the water. He skipped flat rocks across the water, skipping one far enough that it hit a wall of stone on the other side of the lagoon.

  The moonlight reflected off the surface of the water, painting everything silver and blue, and Stella took deep breaths of the salty sea air in an attempt to clear her head. Wasn’t that what was always recommended in the Regency novels she liked? Sea air. Good for the soul.

  They walked halfway around the lagoon, listening to the frogs croak as they approached and then fall silent when they got too close, before heading back to the truck. Just like Stella thought, Sam had to get up early in the morning.