Almost Perfect

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Almost Perfect Page 14

by Julie Ortolon


  At the sound of crunching gravel in the parking lot, he looked up and was surprised to see his mother entering the office. He glanced at his watch. "You're a little early for taps, aren't you?"

  "I thought I'd come by for a visit. Things have been so busy, we hardly get time to talk."

  "Oh?" He tensed. Anytime Mama Fraser wanted to "talk" she definitely had something to say.

  "Yes." Smiling, she sat in the chair between his desk and the back door. Outside, evening was settling over the valley. He could hear the campers enjoying their free time between dinner and lights-out with a game of tag out on the playing field. "I was up at the Craft Shack having a nice cup of tea with Madeline. She showed me some of the artwork she's done for the show. What talent that girl has!"

  "Yes, I know." His gut twisted at the mere mention of her name.

  Mama leaned forward to lay an envelope in front of him. "She asked me to give this to you."

  "What is it?" He frowned suspiciously at the envelope. As strained as things had been between them the last few days, it could be anything from a scathing note telling him off to a letter of resignation. The thought of the latter sent panic racing through him. Seeing her every day was killing him by slow degrees, but it was better than not seeing her at all.

  "Well?" his mother prompted. "Aren't you going to open it?"

  Bracing himself for a "Dear John, screw you" note, he sliced the envelope open with a knife, then stared at the printed card inside. "It's an invitation to Maddy's show."

  "So it is."

  He felt a surge of hope, followed by frustration. "What? She couldn't be bothered to hand it to me in person?"

  "With the way you've been acting lately?" His mother lifted a brow at him. "Maybe she didn't want to get growled at."

  His teeth clamped together. "I haven't been growling at her."

  "No?" She chuckled, then sighed. "Maybe not, but you have made it clear you don't want her here."

  "Did she tell you that?" He fought the need to get up and pace.

  "No. But I have eyes. You've been giving her the classic freeze-out for more than a week now." She shook her head sadly. "And just when I thought things were going well between you two."

  "They were going well, until she-"

  "Until she what?

  "Nothing." He straightened a stack of papers on his desk.

  "Joe, do you want Maddy to leave?"

  "No!" Alarm kicked up his heart rate. "I want-"

  "What?"

  Everything! he nearly shouted. i want her to love me and mean it this time. The way I love her so much it's eating me up inside. I want her to love me the way she loved Nigel the Geek.

  Just thinking the name made him want to rip something apart. Instead he went back to shuffling papers. "If Maddy sent you down here to act as a go-between, tell her there's no reason for her to leave. I'm perfectly capable of respecting the boundaries she set."

  "Are you saying she's the one freezing you Out?"

  "It's not that simple." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'm really not comfortable discussing certain things with my mother."

  "Ah." A knowing twinkle came into her eyes. "She cut you off."

  "Mom." Heat crept up his neck. "Do you mind?"

  She laughed. "No wonder you're so grouchy."

  "I'm not grouchy."

  "Moody, then. Lack of sex can do that to a man."

  He glared at her. "You're determined to discuss this, aren't you?"

  She settled back in the chair. "How about if I save you from talking by telling you a story?"

  "Suit yourself." He went back to his paperwork.

  "I remember when I met the Colonel."

  He groaned aloud at those familiar words, even though he liked this story. He just hated that it had a different purpose each time she told it.

  "It was at a USO dance during the war. Not too many people considered him to be a particularly handsome man, even back then. But he was…" She tipped her head as if picturing him in her mind, and a glow came over her face. "Compelling."

  Joe narrowed his eyes. "Last time you told this story, he was 'frightening.' "

  "That too." She laughed. "I can still picture him as he walked into the room, scowling at everyone. The other girls were all too scared to go over and greet him, even though that was what we were there for, to make the servicemen feel at home. To get their minds off the war for a bit. So I watched him for a long time. Long enough to see how he looked at the couples cutting a rug on the dance floor, with this odd blend of longing and fear. Then he'd look at us girls and scowl even harder. I finally realized he was even more afraid of us than we were of him." Her eyes twinkled with laughter.

  "So I marched right over there, my knees shaking the whole way-because what if I was wrong? Maybe he was as mean as he looked. I had no guarantee he wouldn't plumb take my head off in one big bite. Things are like that between men and women, you know. Very scary, with no guarantees."

  Joe frowned in confusion. "We're already at the moral of the story?"

  "Heavens no. The moral comes at the end. Now where was I?"

  "You asked the Colonel to dance, only he wasn't a colonel back then. He was Major Patrick Fraser."

  "Right. I asked him if he wanted to dance. He looked down at me from way up there." She tipped her head back, looking up, then rolled her eyes sideways to look at Joe. "Even before my bones shrank, I wasn't too tall. And do you know what he said?"

  Joe lowered his voice to a deep bass. " 'I'm not sure that's wise, miss, since my feet are bigger than all of you put together.' "

  She nodded. "So I asked him if he'd like to sit and talk instead. We were the last two to leave the USO that evening, and then only because they kicked us out. Major Patrick Fraser walked me out to my car. We didn't say a word the whole way across the big empty parking lot. I thought maybe he was mad at me because I'd teased him a bit about his big feet as we were leaving. Later he confessed it was because he wanted to kiss me so bad his knees were shaking.

  "Imagine that." She grinned. "The Colonel with shaky knees."

  "It happens to the best of men." Joe scowled at her.

  "Yes, it does." She smothered her amusement. "When we reached my car, he mustered the courage to ask if he could kiss me. I said yes, of course, very matter-of-factly, expecting a peck good night.

  But when he kissed me…" She patted her heart as her eyes turned dreamy. "Oh, when he kissed me… I knew. I just knew he was the man for me, no matter what the future held. I was gonna love that man as long as God let me."

  Her eyes focused again, right on Joe, and he knew it was coming: the moral of the story.

  "Now just imagine if I hadn't gotten up the courage to ask him to dance, or if he hadn't gotten up the courage to kiss me good night. We may have found happiness elsewhere, but I'm convinced it wouldn't have been near as rich. Some things are just meant. That doesn't mean happiness will fall into your lap. You have to work past the scary stage to earn it, then nurture it daily once you have it."

  "And you think Maddy and I are 'meant'?"

  "What do you think?"

  "I think things don't always work out the way we want. And loving someone isn't always enough. Look at Jimmy," he said, referring to one of the older foster boys who had left the Frasers' home long before Joe arrived. Last they'd heard, Jimmy was serving a second prison sentence. "You gave him the same love you gave all of us, but even that wasn't enough. You can't tell me he didn't hurt you."

  She nodded thoughtfully. "I hurt when I think of Jimmy, but I hurt for him, not for me. I don't regret opening my home and my heart to him. The Colonel and I gave him everything we knew how to give. But we gave it freely. There was no price tag attached. No stipulation that Jimmy had to do something with that love to please us."

  "But he hurt you."

  "He's hurt himself far more than he's hurt me." Her pale blue gaze bored into him. "Joe, love can be both joyous and painful. It's like an amusem
ent park. You can ride the carousel, and go 'round and 'round nice and slow, or you can take the glunge on the roller coaster with all its big highs and lows.

  "Now, there's a lot to be said for that carousel. That's what the Colonel aad I had. A sweet ride filled with contentment and few surprises. And thank goodness foR it, because you boys were a roller coaster, to be sure. It wasn't always fun. I won't lie to you-more than once I wanted to scream my head off. But in the end, I'm glad I had the whole amusement park, not just the carousel, and not just the roller coaster."

  "Personally, I'd rather have just the carousel."

  "I know." Her face softened with understanding. Most people would show shock at such a statement coming from thrill-seeking Joe Fraser, Army Ranger, explosives expert, adrenaline junkie. But when it came to relationships, he'd ridden the roller coaster enough by the time he reached manhood to never want to climb on it again.

  And that's where Maddy scared him. She was the biggest, brightest ride at the fairground, with flashing lights and clanging bells. She drew him to her with all the awe and fear, longing arid dread that drew a kid to a roller coaster.

  "The thing is"-his mother leaned forward to pat his hand-"you don't always get to choose. Besides, you don't know how wild the ride will be until you get on. Maddy may surprise you this time around."

  "Or not." He leaned back in his desk chair. "Which is why I refuse to draw a bull's-eye on my chest and tell her to take her best shot. Kevlar vests were invented for a reason, you know."

  "Joe." A scowl wrinkled her face. "If you tell Maddy you'll only let her into your heart if she agrees to some list of conditions, then you haven't learned as much as I'd hoped you would about what it means to love."

  "God." He covered his face with both hands. "I hate it when you're right."

  "I know. Now about the art show…"

  He dropped his hands and gave her a warning scowl-which she completely ignored.

  "I'm hoping I can get a ride with you, since I don't enjoy driving at night the way I used to."

  That made his brows go up. "You're admitting you're a hazard on the road?"

  "I am not." She straightened her birdlike frame. "I said I don't enjoy driving at night."

  "Because you can't see at night."

  "I see just fine," she insisted. "And if you don't want to take me, very well. I'll drive myself."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'll drive you."

  "Good." She beamed as she stood. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll go watch the girls play until it's time for evening prayer."

  It wasn't until she'd left that he realized how seamlessly she'd manipulated him. Thirty-three years old, and Mama Fraser still knew how to push his buttons.

  God love her.

  Love. He frowned at the word. Did he have what it took to love the way she did? To give it freely, absolutely, unconditionally with no guarantee on whether it brought pleasure, pain, or a combination of both?

  Picking up the invitation, he thought about Maddy, ached for her. Was he destined to love this one woman his whole life? Taking both the pleasure and the pain she brought? Why was there so little free choice involved in love? That really sucked. He didn't want to be in love with her.

  Yeah, but you are.

  The question was, what. was he going to do about it?

  Marry her, idiot..

  The answer popped into his head, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He'd already failed on that objective once. At present they weren't even talking to each other, so proposing was out of the question without laying some groundwork. A lot of groundwork.

  What he needed was a plan. Yeah, he nodded as it took shape in his mind. The final objective was making Maddy a permanent part of his life. He'd have to get there, though, in phases.

  Phase One: Get back to where they had been.

  Phase Two: Get her to stay in Santa Fe.

  Phase Three: Get a ring on her finger.

  His heart pounded with memories of his past failure to accomplish that, but he'd been givea seemingly impossible tasks before. All he had to do was stay focused on the task at hand. And not project too far into the future.

  The first step of Phase One was to dispel the awkwardness.

  Maddy was sitting with Dana and a whole table of campers having lunch when she looked up and found Joe standing beside her, holding his lunch tray. The sight of him looking right at her jolted her so hard she nearly dropped her fork.

  "Hey," he said casually, as if days hadn't passed without them exchanging a single word.

  "Hey," she managed to respond.

  He dropped his gaze briefly, then looked back at her. "I noticed the invitation requested an RSVP."

  "Yes?"

  "I just wanted to let you know, I phoned Sylvia and told her to expect both Mom and me."

  "Oh." Hope-and relief-filled her in a rush, blossoming into a warm glow over her face. "I'm glad."

  He nodded. "I just thought you'd want to know."

  With that, he turned and walked away to find an empty seat at another table. She turned back to find Dana smiling at her.

  "You go, girl."

  She released a laughing sigh, for once not caring that so many people knew the details of her love life. She'd offered an olive branch-and Joe had taken it.

  Chapter 15

  While success takes hard work, there's something to be said for taking the path of least resistance.

  – How to Have a Perfect Life

  The day of the show arrived with a flurry of activity that kept Maddy so busy she could almost ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Since Mama had agreed to take over at the Craft Shack, she had the whole day off to help the gallery staff get ready.

  One of the back alcoves had been set aside to showcase her work. After stripping the walls, bare, she and Juanita started rehanging the area, filling it with her vibrant landscapes, jewel-tone wildflowers, and dramatic cloudscapes.

  "Wow," Juanita said, stepping back to admire the progress they were making. "This looks great. I've already told you how much I love the pieces you brought in, but now that they're on the wall, they really pop."

  "Thanks. The guys in the frame shop did a fabulous job."

  "It's more than that," the gallery manager insisted. "You weren't kidding when you said you were good at displays."

  "That's why I offered to help." Tape measure in hand, Maddy stepped around the framed pieces they'd laid out on the floor in an intricate grouping. Sylvia and some of the framers were working in the other alcoves, going through the same process. Tipping her head, she read off the measurements for the next nail placement.

  "This is something the other artists rarely do." Juanita wrote down the numbers on a scrap of mat board. "Not that we mind. Their job is to create the art. Ours is to show it and sell it. To be honest"-Juanita lowered her voice-"most of them would muck this up if we let them try."

  "Hanging a gallery wall is an art form in and of itself." Maddy pulled a nail from the pocket of the shirt she'd tied at the waist over a pair of tattered jeans.

  "You got that right." Juanita laughed.

  As Maddy drove the nail in, she realized how much she'd missed this world-not just the art itself, but the showing and selling too. Leading customers through a gallery was so much more than quoting prices. It was a performance, with stories to tell about each artist, the history of each piece, its connections to other works; and designing the displays was all part of setting the stage.

  "What next?" Juanita asked when they'd finished hanging all of Maddy's pieces.

  Maddy looked about. "Let's get a few bronzes in here to add dimension."

  Together they muscled tree-trunk pedestals into position and topped them with bronzes.

  "Perfect," Maddy announced as she dusted off her hands. The area looked as good as any Canyon Road gallery. Unfortunately, three hours remained until the show started, which left too much time to obsess about the coming night and thoughts of Joe.

  He'd been fr
iendlier toward her the last two days, but they still needed to sit down and really talk. So she and Mama had formed a plan for her to get Joe alone tonight after, the show.

  Nerves fluttered in her belly, so she pressed them down with a hand. "Do you want me to help with the rest of the gallery?"

  "No, we're pretty much down to the pricing and cleaning up. Angelina." Juanita called to Sylvia's seven-year-old granddaughter. "You can sweep in here now if you want."

  "Okay." The eager child, who'd been getting in the way more than helping most of the day, hurried forward with a broom that was taller than she was.

  Juanita checked her watch. "Why don't you go ahead and get dressed? Sylvia wants pictures of you standing in front of Sunrise Canyon for the catalog. We should do that before the madness begins."

  Seeing little choice, Maddy headed through the door from the gallery into the noisy frames shop and offices.

  If Images of the West were a woman, the gallery would be her face, beautifully made up to show the world, but this would be her heart and soul: bright, loud, and pulsing with life. Today that heart beat at a hectic pace as the staff scrambled to finish a few last pieces for the show. Fluorescent lights glared down from the exposed metal rafters while scraps of mat board littered the floor like giant confetti. Hard rock blared from a boom box, competing with the hiss of an air compressor blasting dust away from glass, and the nerve-jarring pop of a brad gun.

  Maddy smiled at the whole disjointed, wonderful symphony of it as she made her way to the sales offices and employee bathroom at the back of the building.

  There she found the dress she planned to wear hanging in its dry cleaner's bag. Excitement and anxiety tangled in her belly as she took it down and thought about the evening to come.

  Joe steered his mother's powder blue land barge into the line of vehicles waiting to turn into the parking lot for Images of the West. "Looks like they got a crowd."

  "Sure as shootin'," his mother said gleefully.

  Ducking his head, he took in the whole effect. Luminarias lined the roof, while tiny white lights circled the porch posts. Brighter light spilled from the big windows across the front. Inside, he saw the cream of the Santa Fe art world-collectors, gallery owners, and artists-milling about. "Sylvia was a genius to play up the mystery artist angle."

 

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