Two of a Kind

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Two of a Kind Page 14

by Susan Mallery


  Those words cut her far deeper than any knife thrust. She clutched the tablet to her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

  “She wants me married off. She’s taking applications.”

  He sounded really upset, she thought. “She’s being proactive. It makes her feel better. You were gone for a long time, and she doesn’t want to lose you again. Surely you can understand that. In a way, it’s funny.”

  “It’s not funny to me. You should have told me.”

  She tried to see the situation from his point of view. Just because she wanted to be paired up didn’t mean everyone did. Look at Gideon, who avoided all emotional involvements.

  “You’re right,” she said, nodding quickly. “I was wrong not to say something. I can see how you’d view my actions as a betrayal.”

  Ford shifted. “Betrayal is a little strong.”

  “No, it’s not. I was a bad friend. I apologize.”

  “Jeez, Felicia, I was pissed, but it’s not the end of the world.”

  “It was thoughtless of me.” She felt her eyes burning, and it took her a second to realize she was starting to cry. “There’s been so much going on. I’m trying to be understanding, because the changes are necessary, but everyone is resisting. There’s more pushback than I anticipated and I haven’t slept and now you’re angry with me.”

  “I’m not angry,” he muttered. “It’s fine. Seriously. I’m okay. My mom’s probably doing a good thing, right?”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “I’ll say anything if you promise not to cry.”

  She sniffed. “I’ll do my best. However, once the sympathetic nervous system is engaged, it can be difficult to stop the process.”

  He swore.

  She swallowed, still fighting tears. “You can go. I’ll be fine. I feel better, knowing you’re not angry with me.”

  “I’m not. Really. We’re good. Okay?”

  She nodded and he took off at a run.

  Felicia walked through the crowds, trying to gather control. She generally didn’t give in to tears, which just illustrated how much stress she was dealing with. Perhaps sugar would help.

  In front of her, a boy of eight or nine stomped his foot. “This is stupid,” he yelled at his mother. “I want an elephant ear. They’re supposed to be right here. Why aren’t they here?”

  “I don’t know. Everything’s different this year.” She looked at her husband. “It’s just not as fun.”

  Felicia clutched her tablet tighter. “The elephant ears are over by the food court,” she said, pointing. “Next to the lemonade stand. It’s not very far.”

  “Thanks,” the man said, putting his arm around his wife. “You know, a lemonade sounds good.”

  The family walked in the direction of the food court. Felicia stared after them, trying not to take the boy’s comments personally, but it was difficult. She’d so wanted the festival to go well.

  By eight that night, Felicia was ready to admit defeat. She’d been verbally chastised by both the honey vendor and a small boy looking for the lady who made the balloon animals. When Mayor Marsha walked up to her, she knew she had to come clean.

  “It’s a disaster,” she said, facing her boss. “I’m sorry. I was so sure my way would be better. The flow is easier and I know there are more people listening to the music. But maybe I overestimated how much that would matter. Change can be difficult, I know. I took on too much.”

  The mayor waited a beat. “Is that what you really think?”

  “No,” Felicia told her. “I don’t. Before, it was silly. With the corn dog vendor by the tarot card reader, people were eating when they came by. Even if they wanted a reading, they weren’t always comfortable going into her booth while holding a corn dog. And the lines for the food spilled in front of other booths, blocking them. There wasn’t enough seating for the various bands. This is better. Only no one believes me.”

  Mayor Marsha linked her arm through Felicia’s. “In the words of Yogi Berra, Imperfectum est dum conficiatur.”

  Felicia translated in her head. “It’s not over until it’s over?”

  “Exactly. There are still two more days. Give people a chance to get used to things. I like what you’ve done, and I suspect they will, too.”

  “Is this before or after they lynch me?”

  “Hopefully before.”

  Felicia stopped and faced the older woman. “Are you angry?”

  “Not at all. You’re doing your job.”

  “What if I ruined everyone’s holiday? What if they don’t have good memories of this Fourth of July?”

  “You’re assuming a lot more power than you really have. The memories are about them, not you. Searching for an elephant ear isn’t going to ruin anyone’s day.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I usually am.”

  * * *

  GIDEON WENT LOOKING for Felicia around sunset. He found her by the park, on the edge of the crowd listening to the bluegrass band.

  “What are the odds of them doing a cover of the Beatles’ ‘Hard Day’s Night’?” he asked as he approached.

  She surprised him by dropping her tablet on the ground and stepping into his embrace. She wrapped both her arms around his waist and hung on tight.

  “Hey,” he said, stroking her long red hair. “You okay?”

  “No.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I’m not. Everyone hates me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Everyone but you. It’s awful. I thought I was tough and brave, but I’m not. I’m weak. I’m a failure.”

  He touched her chin, nudging her until she looked up at him. Her green eyes were swimming with tears.

  “You’re also a little dramatic. Getting your time of the month?”

  She managed a smile. “You’re trying to distract me with sexist comments.”

  “Is it working?”

  “A little.” She drew in a breath. “The festival is a disaster, and it’s all my fault.”

  He glanced around. “I don’t know. People seem to be having a good time.”

  “They’re not. No one can find anything. The vendors are furious. The band guy acted like I was stupid.”

  “That must have been refreshing.”

  She dropped her head to his chest. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

  “It’s a festival, kid. Not world peace. If you screw up, no one dies.”

  She raised her head and sniffed. “Perspective. You’re right. I messed up, but I’ll do better next time.”

  “There you go.”

  More tears shimmered in her eyes, and one trickled down her cheek. He felt like someone had kicked him in the gut.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I feel awful. I’m not used to failure.” She wiped away the tear, then leaned against him again. “When I was fourteen, there was this guy. Brent. He was one of the few students who would talk to me. Maybe because he was older. He’d been in the army, in Iraq. He’d lost both his legs and was in a wheelchair. He was like a dad to me.”

  She sniffed again, still hanging on to him. “He was in a lot of pain all the time, but he was so brave. I tutored him for a few math classes. He’s the one who talked to me about becoming an emancipated minor. He helped me with the paperwork and went to court with me.”

  “He sounds like a nice guy,” Gideon said, doing his best not to be jealous. She’d said dad, not boyfriend.

  “Brent’s the reason I joined the military. I wanted to honor him. Whenever I got scared, I thought about what he would do, what would make him proud.” She stepped away and looked around. “If he were still alive, he wouldn’t be very impressed with me today.”

  She drew in a breath. “Not by the mistake—everyone makes mistakes. But because I’m crying over it. Talk about stupid.”

  He realized several things at once. That from an early age, Felicia had managed to find what she needed emotionally. A mentor her
e, a father figure there. Justice was like a brother, as was Ford. She might have been abandoned by her parents, but she’d instinctively learned to take care of herself as best she could.

  He also understood that she was harder on herself than any soldier he’d ever known.

  “Are you right?” he asked.

  She turned back to him. “About the festival?” She shrugged. “I know my theories are sound. So if I only consider the logistics, then, yes. But people are harder to quantify. Especially in a setting like this. I didn’t take that into account.”

  “Standing up for what you know is right is the definition of bravery, Felicia. You have to believe in yourself.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “That’s something Brent would have said. It’s a soldier thing, right?”

  “They beat it into us.”

  The smile strengthened before fading. “I don’t like that people are angry with me. I’m not used to being questioned. It makes me uncomfortable. Plus, what if I was wrong about the festival? What if I get fired?”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll give you a part-time job at the station. You can work in the file room.”

  She gave a strangled laugh. “Do you have a file room?”

  “No, but I also don’t think you’re going to be fired, so it’s not a big deal.”

  She leaned against him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She bent down and picked up her tablet.

  “Come on,” he said, heading toward the food court. “Let’s go get an elephant ear. I hear they’re tough to find, but worth the effort.”

  * * *

  “HERE.” THE TAROT woman handed Felicia a pale green T-shirt. “To say thank you and I’m sorry.”

  Felicia wondered if there was a curse on the shirt. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Um, you’re welcome?”

  The woman smiled. “I had a great festival. You were right about my booth. I got way more traffic. I hadn’t realized how many people walked by without stopping because they were eating. This time, I had a line practically all four days. It was great. I’m sorry I was so difficult.”

  She turned to walk away, then looked back. “Whatever you want to do for next year? I’m up for it.”

  Felicia smiled at her. “I’m happy to hear that. Thank you.”

  The woman waved.

  Felicia held out the shirt and grinned when she saw all the tarot cards displayed on the front of the shirt. A friendly gesture, she thought happily. Not the first of her Sunday evening, either.

  Barely an hour before, two guys from different bands had stopped by to tell her that attendance had been up for their concerts, along with CD and T-shirt sales. Downloads of their music had gone through the roof. Three of the food vendors had wanted her to know they’d nearly doubled their sales from the previous years. There was still friction with the honey booth guy, but no situation was perfect and this was more of a win than Felicia had expected.

  Patience and Lillie raced up to her. “Did you hear?” Patience asked. “It’s Heidi. She had a girl. We’re going to the hospital later to see her. It’s the perfect end to a perfect weekend.”

  “I hadn’t heard,” Felicia said, thinking she’d only met Heidi a couple of times. The woman had seemed very nice. She had married the previous summer and was now a new mother. “Please tell her congratulations from me. I’m a tiny bit envious of her happiness.”

  Patience hugged her. “We’ll find you someone. Did you go to Denise’s booth? You could talk to her about Kent. Unless you’re interested in Ford.”

  “I’m not, but thanks.”

  “Just as well. Despite her protests, I’m convinced Isabel still has a thing for him.” Patience glanced at her engagement ring. “This town is just so magical.”

  Lillie tugged on her mother’s hand. “Mom, we need to get to the hospital.”

  “You’re right.” Patience hugged Felicia again. “Come to Brew-haha soon. I want to hear all about your first festival.”

  “Sure.”

  They ran off.

  Felicia circled the park and checked on the cleanup. The crowd had drifted away, and the booth vendors were busy breaking down their displays and packing them away. People called out to her as she moved by. She greeted them and wished them a safe journey.

  She’d done it, she thought happily. Survived her first big event. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d only had a mini breakdown and she had more information for next time. She would go a little slower with the changes and explain more. She would get input and then she would move forward.

  She had a plan, she thought happily. Always a good thing.

  She walked toward the front of the park. Gideon had said he would meet her there. She appreciated that he was checking up on her. She spotted him as she crossed the street, then realized he wasn’t alone. There was a boy standing next to him.

  The kid was maybe twelve or thirteen, with dark hair and eyes. Neither was unusual, so she shouldn’t have found herself staring at the boy. Only there was something about him. Something almost familiar.

  She wondered if she’d seen him that day. Or around town. There were so many children in Fool’s Gold. He might be a friend of Lillie’s or—

  Gideon spotted her. His expression of both relief and panic had her walking faster. As she approached, the boy looked at her, too, and smiled.

  The smile had her stumbling to a stop. She recognized it. Recognized the shape of his mouth, his eyes.

  “You must be Felicia,” the boy said. “Gideon was telling me about you. I’m Carter.”

  Felicia knew, even before he said the words, but still she had to hear them. “Carter?”

  “Uh-huh. Gideon’s my dad.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “YOUR DAD?”

  Carter shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Weird, right?”

  Felicia glanced at Gideon, but he wasn’t talking. His gaze seemed locked on the boy, and if his trapped expression was any indication of what he was thinking, she would suspect he was seconds from bolting. A sniper rifle would make sense to him. An attacker would be quickly disabled. But a son?

  Carter slipped his hands into his front jeans pockets. “My mom was Eleanor Gates. Ellie. They met when my d—Gideon was stationed in San Diego. He went overseas and then she found out she was pregnant. She always said he was a good soldier and she didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

  Carter looked at Gideon. “Special Ops, right? That’s what she said, but she wasn’t sure. You didn’t talk about it much.”

  “Need to know,” Gideon said, then cleared his throat.

  Carter flashed another smile. “And she didn’t need to know. Kinda like in the movies. Anyway, she was pregnant and didn’t want to get in the way. She said if you wanted to be with her, you’d come back.”

  The smile faded. “When you didn’t, she decided not to put your name on the birth certificate. But she told me. You know, when I was older.”

  Felicia could hear the words and understand their meaning. But absorbing them was more difficult than she would have thought. Gideon had a son. Even without Carter’s story, she could see the physical similarities.

  “Where is she now?” she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

  “She died,” Carter said simply. “A year ago. My best friend’s parents said they’d be my foster parents, so that worked out. I lived with them. Only now they’re getting a divorce and moving out of state. Neither of them wanted to take me, so it was find my dad or go into the foster system.”

  He sounded confident, Felicia thought. But she saw the telltale tremble in the corner of his mouth.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Thirteen. But I know stuff. I’m not a kid.”

  “In many cultures you would be considered an adult male by now,” she said. “Usually there are rituals to mark the passage from one stage of life to another. Here we consider adulthood to start at age eighteen, although it isn’t difficult to b
ecome an emancipated minor.”

  Carter stared at her. “Okay,” he said slowly. “You’re agreeing I’m not a kid?”

  “Not exactly. How did you find Gideon?”

  “That was easy.” He picked up the backpack at his feet and opened it. “I had his picture and his name. Once I knew about the divorce and having to find a new place to live, I went online and did some research. I’m good at computers and stuff.”

  “Obviously,” Felicia said as she took the picture. It showed a younger version of Gideon with his arms around a pretty brunette. She was smiling with that “in love” glow Felicia had seen in other women but never in her own eyes. She passed the picture to him.

  Gideon took it, then nodded slowly. “It’s Ellie.”

  She knew there was no point in confirming the relationship. Carter was obviously related to Gideon. Not that he was prepared to take on a child, she thought. There had to be a next step and she had no idea what it was.

  It was nearly eight on a Sunday night. She’d planned to go home and sleep for at least twelve hours. Maybe longer. But what about Carter?

  Mayor Marsha walked up and smiled at Carter. “Hello, young man. I’m Mayor Marsha and you’re Gideon’s son.” She held out her hand.

  “Carter,” the teen said, shaking hands with her. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I know everything, Carter. After you’ve been here a while, you’ll accept that.” She looked between him and Gideon. “I see the resemblance. Based on your wide-eyed expression, Gideon, I take it you didn’t know about Carter.”

  “No,” Gideon said. “I didn’t.”

  “Then you have a lot to take in.” The mayor turned to her. “You’re exhausted, dear. This has been quite the weekend. But successful. Your first festival went extremely well.” She turned back to Carter. “I admire your initiative. However, I’m sure you’re aware there are consequences for your actions.”

  Carter sighed. “I didn’t want to go into the foster care system. You hear stories, you know?”

  “I do know. But there are also laws, and you’re still a minor. Plus, leaving a note for your guardians isn’t going to reassure them.”

 

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