Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(55)

“Perhaps,” Marsha said. “I still have that album for you. It’s downstairs.”

Charity nodded and followed her back to the living room. Together they looked through pictures of Sandra. There were laughing photos of a toddler, then more familiar poses and smiles as she got older.

Marsha gazed lovingly at each photo. She told stories about when they were taken and what happened next. Charity shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

“Is this why you hired me?” she asked abruptly. “Because I’m your granddaughter?”

Marsha smiled at her. “While I did want the chance to get to know you, I have devoted most of my life to this town. I wouldn’t have risked the future of so many just to have you around. When we hired the recruiter to fill your job, I gave her your name. I said I’d heard good things about you, but that was all. She wouldn’t have put you on the slate if you hadn’t been an excellent candidate.”

That made Charity feel better. “Will people be upset when they find out? Won’t they think you tricked the city council into hiring me?”

“You’ve been in meetings. You know how stubborn everyone can be. Do you really think I could have convinced them to hire an unqualified candidate?”

“No,” she admitted. “They would rebel.”

“Exactly.” Marsha touched her arm. “You’re very good at what you do. You’re honest, caring and you have a fresh perspective. You have the experience necessary and the energy to get the job done. You’re the one we wanted. I would have hired you even if you hadn’t been my granddaughter. I hope you believe me.” She hesitated. “I know that coming to meet you directly would have been more straightforward, but I was terrified. I thought by bringing you here, we could get to know each other.”

Charity nodded. “It’s okay. I understand why you’d be cautious. I want to get to know you. I want us to be family.”

“We already are,” Marsha told her. She smiled again, but the sadness had returned to her eyes. “You’re probably still trying to figure this all out. Do you want to pick this up another time?”

“If you don’t mind,” Charity said, grateful Marsha understood. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“We have time,” Marsha told her, rising. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Charity stood and started for the door. When she reached it, she turned and hugged Marsha. The older woman hugged her back. The brief embrace made her feel both better and worse. The nagging sense of having lost nearly twenty-eight years tugged at her.

As she stepped out into the afternoon, she wondered what she could have done to make the outcome different, but knew there was no answer. She’d been a kid, dependent on what her mother told her. Even if she’d wanted to go looking for family, she hadn’t known Sandra’s real last name. After her mother’s death, she’d gone through her things and hadn’t found even a hint about her life before Charity had been born.

If only, she thought sadly. But there was no way to change the past. There was only the future and what she chose to do with her life.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHARITY RETURNED TO the hotel and climbed the stairs toward her room. She wrestled with dozens of emotions, most of which she couldn’t identify. Without thinking, she stopped in front of Josh’s door and knocked.

It was a Saturday afternoon, she reminded herself. He wasn’t likely to be there. But seconds later he opened the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in a T-shirt and jeans. He needed a haircut, she thought, taking in the slightly shaggy hair. And a shave. She had to admit the scruff looked good on him.

“Hey,” he said, motioning for her to come in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad. I went to see Marsha.”

He shut the door behind her, then took her hand and led her toward the sofa. But when they got there, she couldn’t sit. She felt restless and uneasy.

“Why?” she asked, facing Josh. “She was my mother. I know she cared about me. She knew I wanted to be part of a family. She knew that mattered to me more than anything. But she didn’t tell me, not even when she was dying. Not even after she was dead. That’s all it would have taken. A little note with a name and an address. But she didn’t bother.”

Charity couldn’t reconcile the information. “So where does that leave me? Was she just incredibly selfish or am I fooling myself, thinking she gave a damn about me?”

He reached for her.

She shook her head. “No. Don’t. I need to say this.”

He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Then I’ll stand here and listen.”

She drew in a breath. “When I was a junior in high school, we moved again. I told her this was the last time. That I wanted to graduate from a school I’d attended for at least a year. I made her promise.” She struggled against the memory but it was everywhere, surrounding her with how things had been.

“Did she keep it?”

“No. She left and I stayed. I had a job and the rent on our mobile home was cheap. She sent money every now and then. I got by and I graduated with my class. I had friends. I was able to send out college applications and know I would still be at the same address when they sent the answers. But she wasn’t.”

Charity felt the burn of tears and willed them away. She didn’t cry. Giving in accomplished nothing.