Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)(54)
“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 New York Times bestselling author can handle the competition.”
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. “I don’t believe any of them.”
The room went silent as everyone turned to stare at Liz. Her warm fuzzies about the signing, the town and ever thinking it was smart to come back, disappeared. She sat in her seat, embarrassed, angry and determined not to blush. Speaking any words seemed impossible, let alone the right ones. What was she supposed to say?
“Let’s stay on topic, everyone,” Pia reminded from the front of the room. “We’re here to talk about the book festival.” She glanced at the young mother. “Melody, I know Rayanne was your friend, but this isn’t the time or the place to have this conversation. Can we please finish up here.”
Both her voice and her gaze were sympathetic. Liz appreciated the support, although she still felt sick to her stomach. Then the woman next to Marti rose.
“Melody, you need to get your head out of your butt. Liz didn’t do anything wrong. She was a kid, dealing with a lot of crap.” The older woman cleared her throat, then faced Liz. “I knew your mother and I had a bad feeling about what was going on at your house every night. I knew she drank and I knew there were men in and out of that place. A lot of us knew and we didn’t do anything to protect you. We should have. You were just a little girl.”
The woman drew in a breath. “I’m sorry for my part in that. I’ve given money to the scholarship and I’ve acted differently since then. But that doesn’t make up for me turning away when you were growing up.”