A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold 9.5)

May offered her a piece of bread from the basket, which Evie refused, then took one for herself. “You’re renting, aren’t you? I was wondering if you’d thought of maybe buying something.” Her mother picked up the small ceramic container of butter, then put it back down. She glanced at the table, then the bread, then back at Evie. “I would like to help with the down payment. If you plan to stay. In town, I mean.”

Evie stared at her mother, confused about the entire conversation until she realized that May was nervous. About the offer and maybe the question of whether or not Evie was planning on staying in Fool’s Gold.

As little as two weeks ago, Evie would have announced she was leaving as soon as she had a year’s worth of experience. That would have given her enough time to save enough money to relocate. But since talking to Dominique, she was less sure about her plans. Her boss’s suggestions for the business were exciting, and the idea of being a partner thrilled her. There was also the unexpected tug of family.

The server appeared with their wine and their salads. Evie waited until she was gone, then drew in a breath.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” she admitted. “Whether I want to buy or not. But I appreciate your offer. It’s very generous.”

Her mother studied her anxiously. “So you might be staying?”

Evie smiled. “Yes. I think I might.”

May relaxed against the back of the booth. “That’s good to hear. I had hoped you would like it here. Everyone is so welcoming. The town has an interesting history. You should get Annabelle to tell you about the women who first came here. They’re from the Máa-zib tribe. Very matriarchal. It’s fascinating.” May frowned. “Hmm, didn’t the Mayans predict the world is going to end soon? Sometime this year?”

“If it is, it had better hurry,” Evie said, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork. “The year is nearly over. And if anyone is listening, I would really appreciate being able to get through The Dance of the Winter King before the world ends. My girls have worked hard and deserve their chance to shine.”

May raised her wineglass. “We’ll toast the girls.”

They sipped their wine. Evie gave in to temptation and took a piece of bread, then put a little butter on her plate. She’d just taken her first, amazingly delicious bite when her mother asked, “How are things going with Dante?”

Fortunately Evie hadn’t started swallowing yet, so she was able to compose herself and not choke. But chewing and swallowing only took so long, and then she was still left with a question she didn’t know how to answer. Despite her tentative peace with her mother, she wasn’t ready to announce she’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t want to love her back.

“We’re doing well,” she said instead. “He’s a good guy.”

“So Rafe tells me. Although he does have a bit of a reputation with women.”

“Dante made it clear from the start that he doesn’t do long-term relationships.” She couldn’t fault him for leading her on.

“You’re all right with that?”

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship at all,” she admitted. “This whole thing started with us getting each other through the holidays. Now it’s more than that. We like each other.” Which was the truth. After all, she did like him. She also loved him, but she wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.

“Tell me about the other men in your life.”

Evie wrinkled her nose. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve dated some good guys and some not-so-good guys, but I haven’t ever fallen in love. I guess I haven’t met the one.” Until now, she thought with a sigh. But why go there?

Her mother nodded slowly, as if not surprised. “I’m responsible for that.”

“Mom, I’m willing to put a lot on you, but I don’t think you get the blame for my sucky love life.”

“You were afraid to find someone you could love because you didn’t want to be hurt again. Rejected. I would guess you’re afraid to love someone because you’re convinced he won’t love you back.”

Evie opened her mouth, then closed it. May’s words had a ring of truth. “I have been afraid to give my heart,” she admitted slowly.

May blinked several times, as if fighting tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I picked the guys. Not you.”

“But if I’d been there for you…” May held up her hand. “I’ll stop now. I want us to have a nice dinner. I’ve said what I wanted to say and apologized. You can think about it, and we’ll deal with it again another time. How’s that?”

“I can live with that.”

“Good.”

They talked about the costumes for the performance. Evie had seen a few of them, although not all. They were scattered around town, being altered and redone by an assortment of volunteers.

“I’m looking forward to comparing this year’s dances with what was done in previous years,” she said. “I asked Clay to record the whole thing for me.”

“You know we’re all coming,” May said. “I’ve already bought my tickets.”

“I hope you enjoy it.”

“I will. When you were little, I loved to watch you dance.”

Their server appeared with their entrées. When she’d left, May leaned toward Evie.

“Why did you leave Juilliard? Do you mind telling me? I never understood your decision.”

Evie shrugged. “I wasn’t good enough. After six months, I was called into the office and told I didn’t have the talent. I worked hard, but without the raw ability, I couldn’t achieve their standards. Rather than wait until they forced me to leave, I quit.”

May’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe that. You’re a wonderful dancer.”

“You’re not a professional. Trust me, I’m no Dominique Guérin.” She thought about being only a few weeks from her eighteenth birthday and knowing she was all alone in the world. She’d had nothing but a shattered dream and the blistered and callused feet of a dancer.

“I wish you’d come home,” her mother whispered. “I wish I’d told you I wanted you to come home.”

“Neither of us were ready then, Mom,” Evie said. “We needed time. I needed to grow up.”

“I think I did, too. I missed so much. I’m such a fool.”

“You’re a good person. You just got a little sideways.”

“You’re being generous with me. I don’t deserve it.”

“I think I get to decide that. Not you.”

Evie waited for the anger to reemerge, but there was only lingering sadness and a growing sense of peace. Yes, May had made mistakes. She’d been thoughtless. But she’d also had stresses and responsibilities. Evie realized she could spend the rest of her life hating her mother. But to what end? She would only end up bitter and alone. May had acknowledged what she’d done wrong and tried to make amends. Wasn’t it better to forgive and take what was offered?

“Is that lasagna?”

Evie looked up and saw Clay standing by the table, his gaze on her plate. She sighed.

“Is Charlie working?”

“Uh-huh. Move over, kid.”

She did as he asked, and he slid in next to her.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as he reached for the bread with one hand and her fork with another. “You weren’t going to eat this, were you?”

“Apparently not.”

“Good. I’m starving. So what are you two talking about?”

Evie flagged the server, knowing she would have to order another entrée if she expected to eat. Then she smiled at her mother and said, “Girl stuff. Just girl stuff.”

* * *

“HE DID NOT,” Charlie said as she dumped chocolate chips into a bowl.

“I swear.” Evie made an X on her chest. She’d just told Charlie about Clay showing up at the restaurant and eating her dinner.

“I’m going to have a serious talk with him,” Charlie promised. “He can’t do that.”

“He misses you when you’re working,” Heidi said, stirring butter in a second bowl. Evie wasn’t sure, but thought she might be making peanut-butter cookies.

Annabelle handed two eggs to Heidi. “She’s right. I mean I would have attacked him if he’d tried to take food from me, but he got lonely. Like a little puppy.”

“A puppy who needs some training,” Charlie grumbled.

Evie grinned.

The four of them were in Shane and Annabelle’s new house, making Christmas cookies. Evie had gotten the call the previous evening for a Sunday afternoon bake-fest. Just the four “sisters,” Annabelle had said. While she had a million things she needed to be doing, she’d found herself saying she would be there.

Now cooling racks overflowed with cookies. By the time these last batches were done, the sugar cookies would be room temperature and ready for frosting.

“When I was a kid,” Heidi said, breaking the eggs over the bowl, “Christmas was a big deal. We had our extended, carnival family and planned out who would cook what. Someone took the turkey, someone else the potatoes and so on.”

“My holidays were quiet,” Annabelle said. “When my parents were together, they were fighting, and after they were divorced, they traveled.” She smiled. “Don’t feel bad. I liked when they were gone. I spent the holidays with my friends, and their parents felt sorry for me, so they went out of their way to make me feel welcome. It was like being a visiting princess.”

“I liked the holidays,” Charlie told them. “Especially when my mom was away performing. Then it was my dad and me.”

“So we’re all dysfunctional,” Evie said, keeping her tone light. “Except for Heidi.”

“Yes, but not to worry.” Charlie grinned. “No one likes her.”

“Cheap talk.” Heidi stirred the peanut butter into her cookie batter. “I know you all love me.”

As far as Evie could tell, no one else knew about Heidi’s pregnancy. She really was keeping it a secret until Christmas Eve when she told Rafe. Evie wasn’t sure why she’d been Heidi’s confidant, but she had to admit she liked knowing about the tiny life growing inside of her sister-in-law.

“What was Shane like when he was a kid?” Annabelle asked. “Any embarrassing stories you want to share? Something I can torture him with later?”

“He was in a band,” Evie told her. “When we moved to L.A. For about six months.”

“A band?” Annabelle leaned against the counter and sighed. “You’ve just given me the best gift ever. Did he sing?”

“I think he played bass and maybe sang backup.”

Charlie and Heidi both stared at her, their expressions expectant.

“And?” Charlie prodded.

Evie tried to remember what her brothers had done when they’d been younger. “Clay dressed up like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz one Halloween and Rafe crashed his best friend’s car the same day his friend got it as a gift.”

Heidi’s eyes widened in horror.

“It wasn’t a bad accident,” Evie added quickly. “Just a fender bender. Actually I think it was the fender that had to be replaced.”

“Thank goodness,” Heidi said. “If it was serious, I couldn’t tease him about it.”

“He was humiliated, not hurt,” Evie assured her.

While they’d been talking, Charlie had finished mixing the chocolate chip cookies and was putting spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet. When she turned to put the trays into the oven, Annabelle picked up the spoon.

“I’m not supposed to eat raw cookie dough, right?” she asked. “It’s the eggs.”

Charlie pushed the cookie sheet onto the oven rack, closed the door and straightened, then grabbed the spoon from Annabelle’s hand.

“No, you’re not supposed to eat that.” She held up the bag of chocolate chips and shook it. A few rattled inside. “I saved you some.”

Annabelle smiled, then sniffed. “You’re so good to me.”

“I swear, if you cry, I’ll…”

“Yes? You’ll what? Hit me? Hit a pregnant woman? I don’t think so.”

“You’re so smug.”

“I know. It’s not as good as being tall like you, but I’ll take it.”

“They’re always like this,” Heidi told Evie. “They squabble and then they make up. I think it’s because they’re total opposites and yet completely alike.”

“That’s not possible,” Charlie said.

Evie studied the two of them. “I see what you mean.”

Heidi handed her a fork to start making the cross marks on the peanut butter cookies.

This time last year, Evie had been in Los Angeles, in her tiny apartment, working as a waitress and spending her Sundays as an L.A. Stallions cheerleader. She’d been pretty much on her own, with only a few friends she could depend on. This year everything was different. She was with her family, had new friends and was crazy in love.

Sure there were complications, but she had to admit, when comparing the two scenarios, her life had taken a turn for the better. The much better.

Chapter Sixteen

Evie stood on the stage in the high school auditorium and looked out at the rows of empty seats. With the upper-level seating, there were nearly eight hundred seats. That was a huge intimidation factor for her students, which was one of the reasons all their practices were now going to be here. They had to get used to the bigger stage and the—