Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3) (31 page)

Bev caught her arm and led her inside. “Come in. We have to talk.”

Jesus. What now? April closed her eyes for a second before joining Bev on the sofa. She put her hands on her knees and waited for it to hit.

“We’ve found a permanent nanny,” Bev said in a rush, her blue eyes huge and melting. “I’m so sorry. I was going to wait a little longer before we even started looking for a long-term, full-time person, but Alicia just moved up here from Orange County and called me up out of the blue. She was the nanny for one of my best friends in high school. I mean, not my friend, my friend’s baby. She’s six now. The baby, I mean—which means she’s not a baby anymore, of course—”

“You found a nanny,” April said.

Bev took a deep breath, let it out. “Forgive me for babbling. Yes. We think so. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

Finding a loose thread on her jacket, April followed it to the seam and snapped it off. She should touch that up with a needle later to stop it from completely unraveling. “Her name’s Alicia?”

“Yes, she’s originally from Venezuela. She’s in her early fifties, used to own a bakery, and has three grown children of her own. She showed me pictures.”

“How long have you been interviewing?” April asked.

“No, we weren’t. That’s why I feel so bad. It all happened so fast. We never would’ve started this process without telling you first. You’ve been a fantastic help, but you never signed on to be full-time or permanent and we wouldn’t expect you to.” Bev gave her a weak smile. “Liam is teasing me that I only want to hire her because she’s a professionally trained pastry chef.”

 
“It’s okay. You told
 
me from the beginning you were going to get a full-time person.”

“Yes, but not today!”

April swallowed. “Today?”

“Well, she’s going to come by every day for a little while so they can get used to each other.” Bev put a hand on her arm. “We’ll always be grateful to you. Anytime you want to be with Merry, just say so. We’ll tell your mom the same thing. Liam thinks she might be upset.”

“Why?”

“Because of you,” Bev said. “He thinks your mom secretly wanted you to be our full-time nanny, keep it all in the family.”

April smiled. “Yeah, Mom likes having me around, but I don’t think she’d be angry or anything.”

“Well, I didn’t think so, but you know how your brother is.”

“Yeah, I know how he is,” April said, imagining their impending meeting with Rita. Now that she wasn’t needed as a babysitter, he wouldn’t be under any pressure to put up with her at Fite. “When is the nanny coming today?”

Bev ran a hand through her dark hair. “In an hour.”

Chest constricting, April stood up. “Okay.” She forced a smile. “We’ll go to the park another time, then.” Careful not to glance at Merry, whose chubby cheeks would make her lose it for sure, April made for the door.

“I hope you will,” Bev said.

April turned. “Of course I will.”

“Whenever you have time. I mean that. We’ve told Alicia that the family will come first.”

April managed another smile as she stepped out into the midday sun.

In a daze, she walked over to her mother’s house. She picked up the forgotten morning newspaper, flicking off a snail as big as a plum, and went inside.

She didn’t want to talk to her mother. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She herded all four dogs into the living room, gathering their leashes for a walk, grateful none of them could talk.

She didn’t even want to talk to Zack. Although they’d done a great job of avoiding tough conversations so far, they couldn’t keep it up forever.

Chapter 27

A
S
SOON
AS
HE
GOT
home from work, Zack dropped his backpack next to his cardboard coffee table and threw himself onto the couch.

Every hour he felt worse about the way he’d shut down at the restaurant last night. He’d been aware of it at the time—he’d seen himself eat and drink without making eye contact, smiling, or chatting, but he’d been powerless to overcome the old, familiar ice that had crystallized around him, turning him into an untouchable statue. It wasn’t that he was thinking concrete thoughts about Meg, remembering her face or conversations with her. It was the grief, just the heavy, drowning essence
of it, that had dogged him since his conversation with Sarah.

He pulled his shirttails out of his pants and stared at the sky out the window. A smudge of grime on the glass distracted him. He got up and tried to rub it off with his thumb, but it was on the wrong side. He turned away in frustration and stalked into the kitchen to make coffee. He didn’t really want any but needed something to do with his hands.

Time to get his head screwed on straight. If he could figure out how.

He poured some coffee beans into the grinder and flipped the switch. The harsh, high-pitched whine pierced the air, sharpening his thoughts.

Some things, perhaps, he couldn’t do by himself. Since Sarah was the one to trigger this problem, maybe she could be the one to bail him out. He used the landline to call her at home.

She was immediately alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Zack said quickly. “I just—nothing. Is this a bad time?”

“Hold on, let me tell Robert to watch Max. This sounds serious.”

“It’s not—” But Sarah was already yelling at her husband to come and get Max, turn on a video, she’d be a while. Then he heard a door slam and Sarah’s breathing as she returned to the phone.

“There. All set. Go ahead.”

Zack deeply regretted his impulse to call. “It’s really nothing, Sarah. I had a few extra minutes and thought I’d check in. I had to cut you off the other night.”

“Because of your date.”

The phone fell silent. “Yes,” he said finally.

“I look forward to meeting April.”

Zack closed his eyes. She was so eager for him to find someone else. She had been for a long time.

He poured hot water into his coffee press, “Sarah…”

“I shouldn’t pressure you.” She sounded amused. “It’s just so hard not to. You’re so obviously embarrassed about it.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough.

“Oh, don’t be.”

“You were all so good to me,” he said. “Look, whatever happens, I want you to know how much I appreciated it.”

She paused. “You sound like you’re about to jump off a bridge. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Everything. “I was just thinking about you. All of you.”

“Wow, this thing is serious,” she said.

“Thing?”

“With April.”

He held the press down over his coffee, counting the seconds. “It was on my mind before I moved out here. How much I appreciate all of you.”

“Appreciate. There’s that word again. Appreciate for what?”

He took a breath. “You know. Taking me into the family.”

Her voice became impatient. “Of course we took you into the family.”

“You didn’t have to. You barely knew me. Hell, Meg barely knew me.”

“Don’t say that. You know time doesn’t work that way, not when you’re living at the hospital. My God, you were always there. Every morning, every evening. How could we
not
love you?”

 
He was grateful, he was, but in his tired moments, he admitted to himself it could be a burden. “It’s been four years, Sarah. I haven’t done anything since then to merit the kind of loyalty your family has shown me. Your dad still refers clients to me. Just last week your mom sent me an email saying she missed me, that I’d been in San Francisco too long. And you… you want me to get married again.”

“Everyone has to grieve in their own way.” Her voice fell. “You’re a piece of Meg. We want you to be happy, like we’d want her to be happy. And we don’t want to let go.”

“I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know. But…”

“But what?”

Zack had to say it. If not now, he never would. “It’s a bit much. It has always seemed a little like”—he swallowed over his hesitation—“maybe you were overcompensating.”

“What? I have no idea what you mean.”

“I loved her. No matter what I tell you now, I don’t want you to think I blame her, or that I resent her for anything, because I don’t. I wouldn’t give up a moment that we had together.”

“Of course you loved her,” she said. “But what—”

“She was about to break up with me before she got the diagnosis, wasn’t she?” he asked.

She paused. “No.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I meant what I said. I understand.”

“She was having doubts about getting married so soon, that’s all. Engaged after only two months.”

“But we weren’t engaged,” he said. “She turned me down.”

“You were living together when she got sick.”

“Yes, but she didn’t want to get married,” he said.

“But I remember her telling us, me and Mom, right before you moved in together. It was Mother’s Day, and we were having brunch at this cute place with mimosas that would knock your socks off at eleven in the morning. She said you’d bought her a ring but you were going to live together for a year before telling anyone else about it.”

“She was lying,” he said, the anger in his voice for himself, not poor Meg. “She wouldn’t commit.”

“What?”

“She was worried about what your mother would think about moving in together so soon.” He poured his coffee into the sink and dumped the grounds into the bin. “She confessed a few days later, when we were buying a shower curtain at Target. We got in a huge fight. She wanted me to play along with her whole family thinking we were getting married, even if she hadn’t made up her mind yet.”

Sarah was silent for a long moment. “She always did care too much what other people thought of her,” she said softly. “Especially Mom.”

“If I hadn’t loved her so much, I would’ve ended it right then.”

A long silence grew. She let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry. She did love you. I’m sure she did.”

They’d rushed the wedding so they’d be full partners when she began treatment, so she’d have more to live for. The pressure to tie the knot “while they still could” had been overwhelming. Not just from him, but from her whole family.

“I think maybe you’re not so sure,” he said. “And neither are your parents. I just want you to know it’s OK. I’m OK.”

“Oh, Zack.” It sounded as if she were crying.

“I think I’d better hang up before I say something else. Give my love to Max.”

“No, wait—”

“Love you too. All of you.” He pressed the button and set the phone on the counter. His shoulders felt lighter, as if strings pulled him to the ceiling.

He’d done it. He’d finally said it out loud. The sympathy for the poor sap who’d loved a little too quickly, too deeply, had finally come to an end. It had nagged at him for years. Now Sarah knew that he knew, and she could tell the rest of the family. They could all, finally, stop trying to make it up to him.

He could move on.

He picked up the phone and called April.

* * *

April was at the dog park with Stool and her mom’s three Chihuahuas when Zack called. She was still reeling from their bad date the night before, the threat of losing her Fite job, and the nearing end of her routine days with Merry.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she told him, “but I’m not up for anything tonight. It’s been a long day.” She kept a suspicious eye fixed on Stool, who sniffed the bark chips for feces like a teenager looking for stray Cheetos under the couch cushions.

“Anything serious?”

“No, just work,” she said.

“Just work?” he asked in mock horror. “Since when is work ‘just’?”

She smiled, not that he could see it. “My point.”

A long pause stretched between them. Then he said, “I’m trying to think of how I can redeem myself for last night.”

“It’s not necessary.” She readjusted the phone at her ear, wary but enjoying the sound of his voice.
 

“It is to me,” he said.

“Just answer me this,” she began, “is it anything to do with me?”

“No,” he said quickly, emphatically. “Nothing to do with you.”

Nothing to do with me.
He hadn’t mentioned having any other relationships since his marriage. Could
she
be his first?

April twisted a strand of hair between her fingers. Did she want to be? “Is something wrong at work?”

“No, that’s going fine.”

“What, then?”

“I’m not sure you’d like to hear this.”

She had to ask. Her mouth was dry. “Were you thinking about Meg?” It hurt to talk about it, but it would hurt more not to.

He didn’t answer right away. “Her sister called me last night, right before I came over. I started thinking about the old days, when Meg was in the hospital, and it kind of put me in a mood.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, she let out a deep breath. “I wish you’d told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I went through cancer with my dad. If you ever want to talk, I can take it.”

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Really, it means a lot, that you understand.”

Except she knew she didn’t really understand. She’d never lost a partner, a husband, the love of her—

“I’d better go,” she said. “Stool is watching a Great Dane take a dump and I don’t like the way he’s licking his chops.”

He laughed. “Have you eaten? I’ll come by and cook something for you. You won’t have to go anywhere.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s late, you must be tired…”

“Please,” he said. “I’ve been beating myself up all day for ruining our date last night. I need you to put me out of my misery.”
 

“Watching Stool has kind of ruined my appetite.”
 

“Avert your eyes and think of chicken curry.”

She coughed. “Not working. The Great Dane has diarrhea.”

He groaned and laughed along with her. “Pasta with grilled vegetables, then. Nothing brown. And I’ll leave whenever you say the word.”

She pulled out the wad of plastic bags in her pocket, ready to intercept Stool’s meal, but the Great Dane’s owner was already there with a
 
long-handled plastic scoop. Thank God.