All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(55)

“Exactly. The woman who cleans my room at the hotel was telling me about her kid playing football. She invited me to the game.”

Dante sounded outraged, as if the woman had suggested he violate laws of nature.

“You don’t like football?” Clay asked.

“Sure. But pro games. Or college. Why would I go to a high-school game?”

“For fun.”

Dante’s confusion made Clay laugh.

“This is Fool’s Gold,” Clay told him. “Embrace it. It’s the parade capital of California.”

“I’m not a parade kind of guy.”

“You will be.”

“When hell freezes over.”

“Famous last words.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

BEING AWARE THAT she was reacting out of guilt didn’t change the facts, Charlie thought as she stirred the simmering pot of pasta sauce. In a moment of weakness, she’d invited her mother over for dinner. Now, as the moment of Dominique’s arrival neared, Charlie kept looking longingly at the back door. Was it wrong to want to bolt? Surely she could find a good job somewhere in Nebraska. Or Costa Rica.

Precisely at five, her doorbell rang. Charlie wiped her hands on a dish towel and walked to the front of the house. She pulled open the front door and forced herself to smile.

“Hello, Mother,” she said, stepping wide to allow the other woman in.

“Chantal.”

Dominique had dressed for the occasion. She wore a simple wrap dress in a subdued pattern. Her green eyes were enhanced by makeup. Pearl and diamond earrings glinted from her earlobes and a pearl necklace hung around her neck.

Charlie was aware that despite putting on dark-wash jeans and a blouse rather than a T-shirt, she was still nowhere in her mother’s league. She wasn’t wearing makeup or jewelry and her lone concession to fancy was a pair of rhinestone covered flip-flops she’d been given as a gift by someone who obviously didn’t know her.

Dominique followed her into the house, then passed over a bottle of red French wine. “A Bordeaux,” the other woman said. “It goes with nearly everything.”

“Thanks. I made pasta.”

“That sounds lovely.”

Dominique followed her into the kitchen. Charlie had set the small table with place mats and the brightly colored stoneware dishes she favored. She collected two wineglasses, then easily opened the bottle. After pouring them each a glass, she handed one to her mother.

They stood looking at each other. Dominique cleared her throat, raised her glass without saying anything and took a sip. Charlie did the same.

“Nice,” she murmured as the wine slipped smoothly down her throat. She was off tomorrow. Getting drunk was completely fine and perhaps the best way to get through the evening.

Silence filled the kitchen. It was too early to start the pasta or serve salad. Charlie studied the floor, then the far window. Finally she sighed. “We could, ah, go into the living room.”

“Of course.”

Unfortunately the quiet followed them. Charlie sat uneasily on the sofa, searching for a topic of conversation.

“How are you enjoying Fool’s Gold?” she asked.

“The town is very nice. Small and quiet, but the people are pleasant enough.” Dominique took another drink. “I met May Stryker. She lives on the ranch where you board your horse.”

Charlie nodded. “May’s nice.”

“Yes. She is. Nice.”

Charlie sucked in a breath and tried again. “I’m friends with May’s new daughter-in-law. Heidi married May’s oldest son last month. They’re in Paris right now.”

“Paris,” Dominique said with a sigh. “I do love Paris.”

“When was the last time you were there?”

“Two years ago. There was a celebration for one of the theaters where I danced.”

She mentioned the name, which was meaningless to Charlie.

“It was wonderful to see everyone after so long. Time is not always our friend, but at least we’re still alive. One night we stayed up late drinking too much wine. Dmitry tried to recreate his solo in Swan Lake. A disaster, of course. He nearly broke a hip and we had to rush him to the hospital.” She gave a soft laugh. “So many good memories.”

She smiled at Charlie. “The dance world is inescapable. I was taking a flight to New York the other day and lo and behold, there was Johanna Howard. Remember her? She used to come to the house when you were a baby. She was so beautiful. Well, time has not been kind. She made a fortune, so why she doesn’t have a little surgery done, I’ll never know. Muriel got fat. And Elizabeth...”

Her voice trailed off. “You probably don’t remember any of these people.”

“Not really, but it’s nice to hear you talk about them.”

Dominique raised her eyebrows. “Nice again? Is it really that bad between us, Chantal? We’re mother and daughter.”

“Biology doesn’t guarantee communication.”

“Obviously.”

Charlie thought longingly of a ten-mile run. At the end, she would have accomplished something and be assured a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately this dinner didn’t promise anything close to either.

Dominique looked at her. “Why a firefighter? It’s not a traditionally feminine occupation.”