Just South of Perfect

by Grace Palmer

  The thought filled Stella with a flurry of questions, and she threw herself into her work to avoid coming up with answers.

  The rest of the cast swirled around her, running through rehearsals with the cast members who didn’t have to be at work on a Monday, blocking out scenes, and getting fitted for costumes, but Stella barely noticed any of them. She’d forgotten how much she could get lost in a painting. The way it could turn her mind off.

  As a single mom, the opportunities to turn her mind off were few and far between. She was always needed. Or, at least, she needed to be prepared to be needed. Right now, though, she could focus all of her energy on the task at hand.

  Sam had already built the wooden porch protrusion for one half of the set. It was attached to the background and had been painted white by other stagehands, but the house still needed to be painted. Stella opted for bright yellow shingles with white trim around the fake window. She painted signs of wear and tear around the wooden frame and outfitted the railings with dings and scratches to make the house look lived in. They were small details, but it would help sell the scene to an audience.

  When she was finished, Stella moved to the other side of the set, painting a blue Victorian-style house. She painted forget-me-nots and daisies and unplucked weeds in the flower beds and put brown patches in the grass lawn between the two houses. She added trees with circles of shade on the grass, and she couldn’t help but remember her first date with Sam. Their picnic in the grass had been unplanned and awkward, but she remembered it fondly. The memory had taken on a shiny quality in her mind, as did all of her memories involving Sam.

  Even the constant delays with her car felt romanticized, the way rain the day of an outdoor party becomes funny years later. Except, Stella thought it was charming now, in the moment. It had brought her to Sam and Georgia and Tasha and Melanie and Drew. Even Vivienne, Pam, Barb, and Cheri. Alma and Gwen.

  The list of people Stella had come to care for or believed she could come to care for had grown significantly in only a few days. It dwarfed the list of friends she had back home.

  She wished she could stay.

  A low whistle from behind her made Stella spin around. Drew was standing there, hands on his hips, admiring her artwork.

  “Tasha and Melanie were right. You’re very talented,” Drew said. “I offered my services, but Tasha saw all of the art projects I brought home from school over the years and declined.”

  Stella laughed. “I bet your mom loved them. I still have all of Jace’s artwork in a box downstairs.”

  “It is artwork only a mother could love.” Despite his admission that Tasha didn’t want his help, Drew grabbed a paintbrush and began drawing individual blades of grass along the edge of the house, following the pattern Stella had started. It was a difficult job to mess up, so Stella didn’t stop him.

  “Are you in the play, too?”

  “Oh no.” Drew shook his head, looking horrified. “I do not have the acting gene. That’s all Tasha. She recruited me to do lights. Ashley is helping with costumes, though. She bragged once about making all of her own Halloween costumes over the year, and Tasha never misses an opportunity to exploit someone’s talents for her own gain.”

  Stella laughed. “Some people would call that being a good leader.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t know. I’m not much good at being a leader or being led. I’m hardheaded that way.” Drew didn’t speak bitterly. He made the comment with a sense of happy self-awareness.

  Stella, however, knew that people didn’t always see themselves clearly. She had a feeling Drew was one of those people. “I can’t speak from experience, but I know someone who thinks the world of you. He seems to think you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  Usually, she’d be hesitant to tell someone else’s secrets—even if they were positive secrets—but Stella knew Sam wouldn’t mind. He clearly loved the Baldwin kids.

  Drew smiled to himself. “Uncle Sam doesn’t have a bad word to say about anyone. He’s special that way. Kind to a fault.”

  “He’s honest though,” Stella said. “He wouldn’t say something if it wasn’t true.”

  Drew lowered his paintbrush and turned towards Stella, brow raised. “I’d ask how you feel confident enough to speak to Sam’s character, but I already know the answer.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sam has had many good words to say about you.” Drew’s mouth quirked up in a smirk, and his eyebrows wagged. Stella turned away to hide the blush rising in her cheeks.

  Did Drew know about their date? Had Sam told him about the kiss? She wanted to know every word Sam had said, but she wouldn’t ask. It wasn’t appropriate. Sam thought of Drew as a son, and Stella would be horrified if Sam were to ask Jace a similar question. Even though Jace had no idea who Sam even was. Stella made a mental note to call him and explain her car mishap and subsequent adventure soon.

  “I also don’t have to ask how you feel about him in return. The fact you’re still here speaks volumes.”

  “How do you know I’m not just here because my car is still in need of repair?” Stella asked, meaning the question to be cheeky.

  “Because I fixed it myself on Saturday.”

  Stella froze, her face screwing up in confusion before she turned to face Drew Baldwin. “You what?”

  “I fixed your car,” he said nonchalantly. He clearly had no idea this was news to Stella. “Early Saturday morning, actually. We had the parts on hand, so it didn’t take long.”

  Stella shook her head, trying and failing to understand. “No. Sam just told me he was still waiting on a part. He had to order one from the next town over. The man was sick, or his car broke or—I don’t remember, but the part couldn’t get here.”

  “I dunno what you’re talking about. We get most of our parts right here in town. Occasionally, there are things we have to send out for, but usually the guys over at Shell Motors have what we need.”

  “The serpentine belt and the camshaft and the alternator,” she said, listing out the things on her fingers.

  “Fixed, fixed, and fixed.” Drew grinned and kept painting, clueless as to what was happening on her end of the conversation. “It’s okay, Ms. Pierce. I won’t tell anyone why you’re really staying in town.”

  “I’m really staying here because my car isn’t fixed yet. Or, at least, that’s what Sam just told me this morning. He said it would be another day. He said…”

  Stella watched the color drain from Drew’s face. He worried at his lower lip with his teeth before he turned to face her, his mouth half open as though he hoped the right words would come to him at the right time. When they didn’t, he sighed and pressed his palm to his forehead.

  “Shoot.”

  Stella crossed her arms, careful to keep her paintbrush from touching her clothes. “What is going on? Is my car fixed or has there been a mix-up or—”

  “A mix-up, yes!” Drew snapped and pointed at her, grateful for something to latch onto. “This is probably just a mix-up. I left the receipt for the work I did on your desk, but I bet Sam didn’t see it. That’s all. He probably thinks I haven’t done the work yet.”

  That was a possibility, but not one Stella could put much stock in. “But you said you had the parts on hand. Sam told me the day he towed my car in that he’d have to order the parts from out of town, and you just said you get most of your parts from in town. Why would he say that if it wasn’t true?”

  “Maybe I’m confused. I fix a lot of cars. I could have fixed someone else’s.” Again, Drew chewed on his lower lip, and Stella knew something bigger was going on.

  Stella shook her head. “Tell the truth. Sam lied to me.”

  Drew held out his hands as though trying to hold the situation together and keep it from getting out of his control. Stella recognized the expression because she’d had it so many times before.

  Stella liked to be in control. She liked to be the first to know what was going on, and she didn’t like to be caught off guar
d. All of those tendencies made the present situation even more difficult to deal with.

  From the moment she’d stepped foot in Sam’s shop, he’d lied to her. Why?

  Part of her wanted to be flattered. Perhaps, Sam liked her so much right away that he wanted her to stay longer. But that wasn’t enough of a reason to lie.

  They barely knew each other then. What Sam had done was a slightly more ethical form of kidnapping—and only slightly. Stella could have left whenever she wanted, but Sam had made it just difficult enough and sounded just reasonable enough that she’d stayed.

  She turned and saw the kidnapper in question talking with someone backstage. He tipped his head back and laughed. He was too far away to hear, but Stella could imagine the sound. After only a few days, it had become precious to her.

  She liked Sam more than she’d liked any man. Ever. And now all of that had been thrown into question because he’d lied. About everything.

  “Please don’t jump to conclusions,” Drew said. “You should let Sam explain himself. I stumbled into this, and I’m not sure—”

  “It isn’t your fault, sweetie,” Stella said, feeling surprisingly protective over the young man. He didn’t realize what he’d done. Sam had lied to him, too. “None of this is your fault.”

  “It feels like my fault,” he said.

  She shook her head and gave him her best approximation of a smile. “Can you tell Tasha I had to leave? I’m not feeling so great.”

  “Stella…” Drew said, his voice a plea.

  She grabbed his hands in hers for a second, silently comforting him, and then turned and left.

  She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t. Partly because she was afraid Sam would see her and walk her way if she stayed any longer. And partly because tears were already clogging the back of her throat and burning in her eyes.

  She didn’t want anyone to see her cry.

  16

  Stella decided to walk back to the inn.

  If she took a taxi, there was a good chance she’d cry in front of the driver. If she managed to hold it together for the ride, she’d certainly break down the moment she saw Georgia Baldwin.

  And Stella wasn’t ready for that.

  She needed to think. Betrayal like this was not common for her. It had been almost two decades since she’d dated anyone, so while she knew from her girlfriends over the years that most men were dogs, she hadn’t experienced it for herself until now.

  Except was Sam like that too?

  He’d lied to her, but it was only to keep her close. And now that she’d spent time in Willow Beach, Stella was grateful for that time. It all hinged on a deception, which was what made it difficult. It felt like taking a bite of the world’s tastiest dessert only to learn it was made with dehydrated elephant dung. Yes, it was still delicious, but you wouldn’t have taken a bite if you’d known.

  Stella knew, without a doubt, she would have driven out of Willow Beach Saturday morning if Sam had been honest about her car being fixed.

  Instead, she’d stayed.

  She’d stayed. She’d gotten to know them. And she’d had a good time.

  Could she really be mad at someone for forcing her to have a good time?

  Her mind was still a tangle of knots when her phone went off. For a second, she hoped it would be Sam, calling to explain. Maybe Drew had told Sam what happened after she left. Maybe he was looking for her.

  Disappointment coiled in her stomach when she saw Brenda’s name on her screen. She sent it to voice mail. A minute later, her phone buzzed again, alerting her to the voice mail. Stella listened.

  “You need to call me back ASAP, Stella. Mark came into work today in a mood, and there is talk that he is going to ask James to take over the Australia project. He keeps saying we can’t wait a week to get back on track with it. I mentioned that you were two weeks ahead of schedule, but I can’t say anymore without having his fury directed at me. You understand. Anyway, James also told Brian that Mark has mentioned giving him the promotion. I know I’m the one who sent you away, but it might be smart if you get back here tomorrow. Things are falling apart.”

  A few hours ago, that message would have had Stella in a tailspin. As it was, she didn’t even have it in her to care.

  As soon as the promotion was announced at work, she’d had her eye on it. Not because she wanted it necessarily, but because what else was she going to do—just keep her same position forever? It felt like it was time for something else, and Stella needed a goal to achieve, so she’d focused all of her energy on it.

  Now that it was probably going to go to someone else, Stella realized how little it truly mattered to her.

  And now that she’d seen Georgia working at the inn and Tasha working at the theater, and even Sam working at his shop, she realized that she hated her job. Not what she did, exactly, but the people she worked with and the way everything was managed. Mark was controlling, without any of the expertise or knowledge that made it acceptable. He used control in lieu of those things. It was maddening, and if he wanted to fire her, Stella would be fine with that.

  She was contemplating calling Brenda back when her phone rang again. This time it was Jace, and she answered on the first ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Oh good. Mom.” His voice always sounded deeper on the phone, reminding Stella of how much of a man he really was. He also sounded relieved.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It is now,” he laughed. “Grandma just called me because she went to your house to pick up some signs or something, and you weren’t there. She used the spare key to go inside, and she said it looked like you left in a hurry. Apparently, you left the television on downstairs.”

  “Why did she call you instead of me?”

  “Because it’s Grandma. She probably just hit the first number programmed in her phone.”

  “And that’s you and not me?” Stella was almost offended.

  “What can I say? Grandson trumps daughter, I guess.” She could hear the squeak of his swivel chair through the phone, meaning he was sitting at his desk in his dorm room. “So, where exactly are you? Do I need to be worried?”

  Stella quickly laid out the whole ordeal, leaving out the parts about Brenda thinking she was boring and in need of a life of her own. She just described it as a spontaneous vacation gone awry.

  “It sounds like Willow Beach is all right, though. You’ve always wanted to live in a place like that.”

  Stella frowned. “Excuse me? Since when?”

  “Since every time you’ve ever seen a picture of a beach house or even heard the mention of one, you’ve said, ‘Wouldn’t that be the life?’”

  Come to think of it, she had always liked the idea of being a beach bum. Though, that didn’t exactly equate to wanting to live in a beach town. If anything, it just meant she needed to take more beach vacations.

  “I guess so, but I think Boston would be more my speed.”

  At that, Jace barked out a laugh. “You didn’t want to buy that house on our tiny town’s Main Street because you thought there was too much traffic. How much more do you think is in Boston?”

  “I’d take a taxi.”

  “You get car sick.”

  “Oh yeah.” Stella hadn’t sat in the back seat of a car on a long trip in so many years that she had forgotten about that entirely. Even short trips in the back of a car made her nauseous.

  “Honestly, Mom, how do I know you better than you know yourself? Don’t forget you’re allergic to mustard while I’m away!”

  “Very funny,” she said, fake-laughing. “We’ve got a comedian here.”

  She realized she’d repeated Sam’s joke from that morning, and suddenly, it felt wrong not to mention him to Jace. In her son’s entire life, Stella had never been serious about a man. And she wasn’t serious about Sam, per se. She barely knew him. Except, she kind of did…and she was kind of serious.

  “How much is it going to cost to fix your car?” Jace asked,
offering her the perfect segue.

  “Actually, I’m not sure. The mechanic has kind of become a friend, and I think he might give me a discount.”

  “He’s become a friend? In three days?”

  “Four days now,” she said.

  “Still, that seems a little sudden.”

  “Four days…and two dates.”

  “Aha! You buried the lede, Mom. You went on a date?” He sounded genuinely excited for her, but Stella still approached the subject with caution. She’d always avoided the topic because she didn’t want to bring instability into Jace’s life, but they were beyond that point now. Plus, Stella could use all the advice she could get.

  “I did, and it was really fun. He is a nice guy, but—”

  “Uh-oh. What did he do?”

  “He lied to me about my car being broken.”

  “What?!” Jace shouted into the phone. “He scammed you? Where are you at? I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I’ll deal with it.”

  “No, no. Not like that. My car was broken, and he fixed it Saturday morning. But he told me it would be a few days because he had to order parts. Just this morning, before I found out the truth, he told me it would be another day and asked me out on another date tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  “I just don’t understand why he would lie to me,” Stella said. “I’ve loved my time in Willow Beach. The people here are so nice, and I’m already more involved with the community here than I ever was at home, but now it feels like I was tricked into loving it. It feels like I was manipulated.”

  “I mean, I know why he did it.”

  “Why?”

  “Mom, it’s obvious,” Jace said. “You have to know it’s because he likes you.”

  “He lied to me about needing to order parts the very first night I was in town. Only thirty minutes after we met.”

  Jace chuckled. “So, he also thinks you’re attractive. That’s how these things usually go.”

  “Jace!”

  He laughed again, harder this time. “I’m not a little kid, Mom. I know how these things work. This mechanic guy liked what he saw, and he told a little fib to make sure you’d be in town long enough to get to know you. Then, he realized he liked your personality, too, and he lied again. His tactics aren’t totally above reproach, but I have to commend him for his taste. He couldn’t have chosen a more awesome person to borderline kidnap.”