Mr. Good Enough, page 4
“Perry Stone got divorced last year.”
“His kids are our age!”
Simon shrugged. “Still better than Abel.”
Gina made a face. “Next.”
“Hunter Galloway,” Simon tossed out.
“Are you kidding?” Maddie said.
“Dude,” Gina stage-whispered to him, “your stupid’s showing.”
“What’s wrong with Hunter?” Simon asked.
What wasn’t was a better question. Hunter was the high school drama teacher, and he carried the title over into every aspect of his life. “Have you seen the What If God Only Gave Good Enough? signs around town? He’s spent the last month telling people Gina and I are having carnal relations with the devil because of MisterGoodEnough.com.”
Simon blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. What about Joe Davis?”
“I don’t think so,” Gina said.
Maddie blinked. Finally a decent idea, and Gina didn’t like it? “No? Why not?” Joe was a local sheriff’s deputy, about their age, with his own house and no ex-wives or weird pets.
Gina wrinkled her nose. “You just don’t go together.”
“More so than Maddie and Abel.” Simon grimaced.
“Omigod, Mad, this is perfect.” Gina bounced up on her toes. “You should use MisterGoodEnough.com to find a guy. We need a high-profile success story, and now you’re talking about settling down. It’s like we’ve been struggling just for you to reach this point. Think about it. If we don’t believe in our product, why should anybody else?”
Simon pushed away from the frame and headed toward the front door. “I don’t want to hear this. You guys hungry? I’m gonna go get a pizza.”
“At Louie’s?”
The note of danger in Gina’s voice was apparently lost on Simon. “Yeah. Feeling like some cheesy bread.”
“You set foot in Louie’s, and I’ll make sure the student council Web site we’re doing for you works as well as cheesy bread.”
“Down, girl,” Maddie said.
Gina slammed her glass on the counter. Dr. Captain Morgan Pepper splashed over the edge. “But, Mad, it’s Louie’s.”
“Sorry, G, but I put their cheesy bread over my principles.” When Louie’s dropped their Mad Designs account the day after MisterGoodEnough.com went live, Gina had sworn off their pizza. Maddie, however, intended to be back in line for some of their deep dish green pepper and pineapple as soon as her bank account could support it again.
“Traitor.”
“He’s not getting it tonight though.” Maddie gave her brother a light punch in the arm. “He still owes you a ride home.”
“Should’ve let her bring the shotgun,” Simon grumbled.
Maddie’s phone rang. She checked the readout then answered it. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie. I’m on call tonight, but otherwise free. How about Dad and I take you out to dinner, just us?”
Maddie’s smile got a little bigger. “Sounds—wait.” She hit the mute button and cut a glance at Simon. “When’s the last time Mom and Dad took you out for your birthday?”
“I dunno. Maybe five or six years ago. Why?”
Maddie clicked off the mute button. “Rumor mill,” she said into the phone, “or is Dad done?”
Her mom chuckled. “Does it matter?”
Not really. Ever since her mom’s schedule at the hospital had earned her admittance on the other side of the stethoscope, Maddie had been happy to take every opportunity to see her parents.
Even if this was a pity-slash-how’re-you-doing-with-zombie-Trent checkup dinner. “Depends. Which answer gets me dessert?”
“Either one. We’ll split something.”
Maddie’s heart squeezed again. Stupid big mouth. Her mom wasn’t supposed to have that stuff, not after all her lab work came back with warnings for every old person disease in the books. She promised she was just fine, that her meds had evened her out and she’d cut back on her hours, but Maddie still remembered how it’d felt to sit in a hospital waiting room, anxious and panicked over the realization that Dr. Mom was still a mere mortal. “It’s okay,” Maddie said. “I was kidding. Where are we going?”
“Birthday girl’s choice. We’ll give Dad an hour, then head out without him if he’s still busy. Sound good?”
“Sure.”
Maddie disconnected with her mom, both grateful for the dinner offer and disappointed she wouldn’t finish her survey tonight. Not that she had a chance at that anyway with her Internet down.
She flipped the quarter back to Simon. “Mom and Dad are taking me out to dinner. Babysitting duty starts now for you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Gina said.
Simon gave Maddie’s hair a ruffle. “Suppose I can give you this one. But only because they’re worried about you.”
“Nothing to worry about.” Maddie ducked out of his reach. “I’m only humoring them for the free meal.”
He smiled at her, but the sympathy in his eyes told her he believed her as much as she believed Gina, who was already getting the caffeine shakes, could drive herself home.
No matter. Cupid might’ve had his fun with Maddie today, but he wouldn’t stop her from seizing her future and making a family of her own.
Starting tomorrow.
WITH NO PLACE to go after he left the church, Trent picked a random direction and started walking.
Street lamps flickered on as he followed broken sidewalks and potholed asphalt. Shadows of trees grew longer. For Sale signs wobbled in the breeze in a third of the yards, and a few more had been decorated with homemade posters about God and Good Enough.
It was always something around here.
He reached for his phone, forgetting he didn’t have it. Even though it wouldn’t change anything, it was habit to call Ella. At least she wouldn’t be shocked he was alive.
Trent kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. But what would he say if he could call her? Remember when we met and I told you I didn’t have any parents? Guess what? Now it’s true, but my aunt’s lost her marbles since I wasn’t here to tend to my mother on her deathbed. Mind letting me talk about it now that we’re done? Yeah, that’d go over like a wrecking ball at the Historic Preservation Society’s annual fund-raiser.
A breeze rolled down the street and goose bumps crept up his arms. Damn cold here compared to Atlanta. Or maybe that was just his life.
He crossed the cobblestone street. A hint of fresh-baked bread teased his nostrils. He couldn’t remember what he’d eaten on the road, didn’t care if he ate anything at all, but his stomach rumbled anyway. He’d meandered into the town’s main drag. Billy’s Hardware sat across the street, the scratched and pitted windows hazy beneath cracked painted letters advertising a Fourth of July tool sale. Ida Mae’s old beauty salon was still next door in the row of shops, its barbershop pole hanging crooked beside the broken outdoor light. He slowed his steps outside Ruby’s Sandwiches, the only lit store on the block, but before he could decide if he wanted to go in, the door flung open in front of him, and a slender woman barreled straight for him.
“Oh! Trent!” Ruby herself grabbed him and held on like he was her lifeline. “Oh, honey. You’re alive. It’s true. You’re alive!”
Her dark bun was peppered with more gray than he remembered. Otherwise she was the same, right down to the rainbow-striped shirt and the way she smelled like fresh bread and mustard. Eyes stinging, he gave in and returned the ferocious hug. Felt good to be wanted.
She pulled away and blinked up at him, dark eyes darting over his features. When Trent was growing up, his classmates had whispered stories that she could talk to the dead and see things that most people couldn’t. Now, under her scrutinizing gaze, he wasn’t certain those rumors had been too far off base. “Tsk, tsk. You need food,” she said. “I knew the universe had more in store for you than an ugly death in an ugly town.”
She pulled him into her shop and hustled him to a Formica table near the glass counter. A mason jar of dusty, faded flowers anchored in colored marbles adorned the chipped tabletop. “Now you sit on down here,” she said. “We’re gonna take care of you right good. Sarah Jo, get this boy a ham and swiss on rye with the works and a chocolate malt.”
A wide-eyed, stringy-haired teenager behind the glass display case nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Trent sat gingerly on the wooden chair. Ruby settled across from him. She gripped his hand in both of hers and held tight. Her dark eyes shone beneath the fluorescent lights. “Trent Sawyer, where have you been?”
He started. “I, ah—”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’ve come home to us. That’s what’s important. How you doing, hon? Sad times.” Ruby shook her head. “Sad, sad times. You been by to see your aunt yet? She know you’re here?”
He winced. “She knows.”
“Give her time.” Ruby squeezed his hand. “We’ll get you both through this.”
The bells over the door jingled. Bells. His keys. He’d dropped them on the sidewalk outside Linda’s old house.
He’d pick them up later.
An older couple stared at him from the doorway. The man was vaguely familiar in his coveralls and a straw hat. In a flash, the memory clicked. The old farmer who owned the land next to his parents’ house. Trent raised a hand in greeting. The farmer murmured something to his wife, who frowned and yanked her husband back outside.
They disappeared into the darkness. He’d left here a hero for tossing a damn basketball through a hoop, and now that he was back, ready to fix everything they’d ignored, they wanted nothing to do with him.
And why should they?
“Ignore it,” Ruby said. “Don’t matter what folks think, we know you’re a good man.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Being lost don’t make you bad. It makes you lost. Lotsa folks ’round here gonna be thrilled to have a hometown hero back. You wait and see.”
He could think of a few heroic things he could’ve done better. Real heroic things. But Ruby was warm and friendly, and God knew he needed that.
When Sarah Jo brought out his sandwich, he dug in, listening to Ruby chatter about the crops and the mayor and the town. Except for the occasional hostile stares and awkward greetings by Ruby’s handful of customers, he could almost pretend his life was normal.
But eventually Ruby had to close up shop, and he had to face what his life had become, so he found himself out in the cold once again. A week ago, he’d been good at everything he did. But today, with no family, no girlfriend, and no direction, he felt like he’d been living a lie.
He was definitely home.
AFTER MADDIE’S parents dropped her back off at home, she tried to concentrate on her MisterGoodEnough.com profile—she did, after all, have the original files and questions—but her full belly was making her sleepy.
She left the survey open, changed into her painting clothes, then stepped out her back door into the cool night. A shiver slinked down her arms. Millions of happy stars twinkled down on her through gaps in the maple trees. As a teenager, she’d sometimes imagined that Trent was standing with her on a night like this, wrapping his arms around her, his warm body shielding her from the cold as he whispered that she shone brighter than all the stars combined, that the universe was barely large enough to contain all the love in his heart for her. Tonight the thought made her sad.
Sad for who she’d been. Sad for what she’d lost. Sad for what he’d lost too, back then and today. But today she could offer him sympathy, not her heart, and she was happier that way. It was the way things were supposed to be.
Her nose started dripping from the cold. She gave the stars one last wistful look, and turned back toward the house.
“Maddie?”
A jolt went through her body. Where had he come from?
And why in the hell was her biological clock suddenly drumming out the slow rhythm to “Unchained Melody”? Stupid Trent ghost. Stupid Abel and his Righteous Brothers. Stupid wind whistling along.
Trent approached the edge of her cracked patio. “I rang the doorbell.” The uncertainty in his gait was nothing like the swagger he’d worked in high school.
It made the world seem not quite right.
He held out a brown paper bag. “Didn’t want to leave this on the front porch. It’s from Ruby.”
She gulped, then met him halfway. “Thanks.” She reached for the bag.
His fingers brushed hers, and it took every ounce of self-control not to squirm away. She’d touched him more in the last four hours than she had all through high school, and she didn’t like it.
Or maybe she didn’t like that she did like it.
His posture had relaxed into something more Trent-like, his expression unreadable. “She said to tell you something about not pissing off the gods, but I didn’t catch the whole message. Something about what happened to the Romans.”
He’d gotten the important part. Ruby noticed more than any mere mortal had a right to. Gossipy old lady. “Doesn’t matter.” Maddie made a vague gesture toward the front yard and turned to retreat into the house. “Your keys are behind the pumpkin on my porch. ’Night.”
“That’s it?” Trent shuffled along beside her. “You don’t want to know how much I’ve suffered since you dumped me out on Holy Row?”
“Not so big on suffering. Thanks.”
“How about rub it in that Linda doesn’t want me?”
He looked like a puppy who couldn’t find his home. But the Trent she remembered didn’t do lost, certainly not lost puppy. When his cousin Andi was diagnosed with leukemia, every day she made it to school he was at her side with a cocky grin and an easy stride, as if he could snap his fingers and make the disease disappear. When she was admitted to the hospital, he smiled and told everyone she’d be back soon, then convinced them to make sappy get well cards for her. After she died, he led the basketball team to a last-minute victory at the state championship game, the only championship Candella County High had ever had in anything, and then held his head high during the victory parade while everyone chanted Swish, Swish, Swish.
He must’ve had one hell of a bad day to let her see his hurt like this. “I don’t take particular pleasure in stomping on people, especially when they’re already down.” She reached for the door handle, but then Trent had his hand on her shoulder, and some invisible force pulled her back around to face him.
“Maddie.” His voice was strained, as if he might’ve taken that for the cheap shot it could’ve been if he read enough into it and actually remembered being a jerk.
His pale shirt glowed in the yellow light spilling out from over her door, emphasizing how his shoulders had broadened since he left. He met her gaze head on. “I promised Andi I’d take her to prom. Told her I’d get her crowned queen. When I couldn’t—when she—” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to go at all. I—you—I was wrong. What I said. I’m sorry.”
Her pulse pounded so hard she thought her veins might bruise.
This was ridiculous. She wasn’t fifteen anymore. She was done crushing on guys who’d always be higher on the social ladder. Done being the worshipper instead of the worshipped. Done believing she was worth something to them, only to have her dreams implode when they moved on.
But if he could man up and apologize, she could give him a friendly ear for a few minutes. She leaned back against her door, crinkling the bag, temporarily drowning out the song in her head. “That was a long time ago.”
“Feels like yesterday.”
“I know it looks like this place hasn’t changed since you left, but that’s only because it hasn’t.”
He pierced her with an unreadable look. “You’ve changed.”
Was that good or bad? She peeked inside the bag to distract her from his scrutiny. A Rainbow Brite cupcake. Ruby had her moments. “I grew up.”
A corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Moved on like everybody else.”
A twinge of sympathy poked at Maddie’s gut, right in that nostalgic place between her resolve and her self-respect. “The locals were pretty rough on you today, huh?”
“Been through worse.”
She hugged herself and put an intentional lightness into her voice. “They’ll come around. Cheaper to forgive you than to replace the memorial statue.”
His eyes narrowed. “Memorial statue?”
Maybe she should’ve let him do all the talking. “Um, kidding?”
“Jesus Christ.” He shook his head. “A memorial statue.”
“You were dead. There was an obituary, and your dad said you were already buried out in Nevada, and everybody was so sad because you were so young. You know how it goes here. One thing led to another, and suddenly there’s a big memorial service with a statue and everybody wanted to talk about what a great kid you’d been, and—” and she was rambling, and he was staring at her the same way he had when she’d offered to do his math homework. “Why did you come back?”
He looked away and rubbed at his temples. “I don’t have a freaking clue.”
Right. Like he’d drop everything and drive all the way from Georgia—okay, she peeked at his plates—without a good reason. Guys didn’t do that sort of thing.
But Parker and Simon had both done something irrational like that once or twice.
Always because of a woman.
Of course.
She shoved away from the door and reached for the handle again. “Well, good luck figuring it out.”
He gripped her elbow, panic skimming over his features while her own pulse leapt at his nearness. Shivers wound down her spine. Trent was here only because she was convenient, not because he envisioned her as his Ms. Good Enough. “You’re leaving?” he said.
She tugged herself free and ignored that voice in her head whispering that she should stay. He wasn’t the same superstar she’d crushed on all those years ago, and she wasn’t the same naïve, starry-eyed, false hero worshipper.
Maybe that was what scared her. “I have a lot of work to do.”
