the right thing and married her. But I don’t think we would have made it.”
“You might have surprised yourself.”
“You’re my mom. You have to believe the best of me.” Even when it wasn’t true.
She and Nevada were right, he thought. Serving Liz had accomplished nothing but alienating her. Maybe he had wanted to get her attention. If so, he’d picked a lousy way to do it.
“She needs someone on her side,” Denise told him. “You have your family and the town.”
“Not everyone in town,” he assured, remembering the old lady who’d gone after him with her purse.
“You’re still coming out ahead. If we’re not careful, Liz will feel overwhelmed and take off. Honestly, I’m not sure I would blame her for that.” His mother paused, then scrunched her face. “I could have been a lot more supportive and understanding. I should have been. I want to know my grandson, and Liz is the key to making that happen.”
He thought about pointing out that if push came to shove, they could go to court. Force Liz to let Tyler spend time with the family. But in the end, no one would win. Certainly not Tyler. And as Liz had pointed out several times, the kid was the most important part of the equation.
“I can’t take the injunction back,” he said, not completely sure he would if he could. Although he still wasn’t sure why. His mother was right-he was trying to prove something.
“You may not be able to take it back, but I can make an effort, and I’m going to. Liz has been in this by herself for too long. I’m still angry about missing the first eleven years of Tyler’s life, but if I don’t let that go, my emotions will affect everything else. And not in a good way. Besides, Rayanne is to blame for the last five years. This is so complicated.” She looked at him. “I suppose you’re going to be an idiot for a while longer.”
“Apparently.”
She surprised him by smiling. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your father. He was an idiot, too.”
“And you still loved him.”
Her smile broadened. “Yes, but Liz might not be as smart as me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
LIZ HAD NEVER BEEN TO A CITY event-planning meeting before. When Pia had called to invite her, she thought the afternoon might be interesting. Her stay in Fool’s Gold was temporary but she might as well get a feel for the good as well as the bad. If nothing else, she may be able to put the experience in a book.
A little before two, she walked to the City Hall building and found her way to the meeting room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to find herself in a good-size open space, with about three dozen chairs facing a long table and a podium. Most of the chairs were full, and three women chatted by the head table. Montana and Pia were among them and smiled at her.
Liz smiled back, then went to find an empty seat.
Her choices were limited. There was one next to a young mother with a baby. Liz didn’t recognize her, so they hadn’t gone to school together. Odds were the woman wouldn’t care about Liz or her past. There were several older women sitting together, but after the recent comments on her character by strangers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk the wrath of a potential mob.
Unable to find a place that felt safe, she settled for a seat in the back corner. With any luck, she would be ignored.
A woman in the row in front of her turned to face her. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Marti and I just love your books.”
“Thanks.”
“Your main character is wonderful. She feels so real. And thank God you’re not putting too much gore in your books. I know violence is part of the genre, but some authors go too far.”
“I enjoy writing my stories,” Liz acknowledged, knowing a neutral response was usually best. The truth was she always liked hearing her readers opinions, even when she didn’t agree with them. Readers probably thought she ignored what they said, but that wasn’t true. Liz had made not a few changes in story lines based on reader input.
“I love reading them,” Marti repeated, before smiling and facing front.
Pia moved to the podium and called the meeting to order.
“We’re planning the book festival,” she began. “Thank you all for coming out this afternoon. This is going to be our biggest and best program ever, which means lots of opportunity for volunteering. We’ll get to that later. First, let me go over the program.”
A screen rolled down behind her. She pushed a few buttons on her laptop and a big poster appeared. It was bright and inviting, giving the dates of the Fool’s Gold annual book festival. The border was filled with pictures of both authors and books. Liz was relieved to see that she was just one of the many on this poster. The one Montana had shown her a few days before had featured her prominently. Not something to endear her to the other local authors.
“We’re going to set up in the park,” Pia continued. “Given that we have a few better-known authors this year, we’re expecting a larger crowd than usual.”
“That’s right,” someone in the front called. “There’s that mystery writer everyone’s been talking about. What’s her name?”
A ripple of laughter flowed through the room. Liz chuckled. “I can’t remember,” she said loudly. “But I’ve heard she has an attitude, so watch out.”
An older woman stood up and waved at Liz. “I have a new quilting book out this year. Chances are my fans are going to be flooding the park. Just so you’re prepared.”
“I look forward to meeting them,” Liz told her.
Pia looked at Liz with a teasing expression. “I think our local
Pia went through the list of authors. As promised, most of them were local, self-published and their books dealt with unusual or dying crafts. Using sticks for art and furniture. Making meals from what one can find on the forest floor. There was mention of an author who wrote about the Indian legends. The book sounded interesting, but when Liz asked Marti about the author, the other woman told her no one ever saw him in town. He lived in the mountains and kept to himself.
“There are tons of rumors,” Marti admitted. “Seeing him is like seeing Bigfoot. I’ve heard everything from him being one-hundred-and-eight, English and a former explorer to him being young, gorgeous and really rich.” She lowered her voice. “Personally I like the second story best.”
Liz thought the old British explorer sounded more intriguing. She would have to look up the mysterious author at the signing.
Despite everything going on, she found herself looking forward to the event. Her usual signings were in big stores or at industry events. Very organized and predictable, with crowd control and readers kept at a respectful distance. This sounded more fun. She liked the idea of being part of a writing community. There were days when figuring out a new way to serve chicken for Tyler seemed impossible. Feeding someone what could be found on a forest floor was impressive.
Pia went through the rest of the programs, the various opportunities for volunteering, then opened the meeting for questions.
Two people wanted to know about taking sign-up sheets around town. The only man at the meeting pointed out that just because there were more women than men in town didn’t mean it was right to take over all the men’s restrooms every time there was a festival. Men had needs, too. Pia promised to look into the problem.
“Anything else?” she asked.
The young mother with the baby rose slowly. “I’m sure a lot of you aren’t going to agree with me, but I have to say, I’m just sick about having that woman here.” She pointed at Liz. “What she did to Ethan is shameful. Keeping his little boy from him all those years. It’s worse because of him losing Rayanne and their baby.” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “Rayanne was a sweet girl and now people are saying terrible things about her.” She glared at Liz.
