Read Online Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3) by Gretchen Galway - Free Book Online Page A

glowed in her mother’s eyes. “Do you think Liam and Bev could do without us that long?” She glanced over at the door to the bedroom. “We could try to bring Merry with us. We can practice using that baby carrier.”
    “No baby. Just us. We couldn’t really do it right with her along.”
    “What about the dogs?”
    “Stool has settled in,” April said. “He gets along with the others pretty well.” She glanced at the trio still snoozing in a puppy pile on the sofa.
    “Wouldn’t you rather do that with one of your girlfriends? You’re surrounded by family day and night.” Trixie glanced at April out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve heard some people don’t like that.”
    “Let’s do it. You and me,” April said, thrilled finally to have diverted her from her fixation with Zack. “Saturday. I’ll get us in at that salon on College.”
    Trixie beamed, touching her hair with the tips of her fingers. “I haven’t had a proper cut in ages.”
    “Perfect. Me either.”
    “I’m so excited.” Trixie laughed and stood up. “We’ll both be gorgeous.”
    “Totally gorgeous.”
    Cupping April’s cheek with her hand, her mother added, “And when Zack comes back and sees you, he’ll know you’re interested in dating.”
    * * *
    The Monday after his long Thanksgiving holiday, Zack walked into the Fite building and felt the muscles between his shoulder blades loosen for the first time in eight days.
    Why had he gone back? Meg’s parents loved him—they often told him so—but at this point he’d spent more holidays with them than he ever had with his late wife. The painful absurdity of that weighed on him more every year.
    I have to move on . He’d told them not to expect him at Christmas, which hadn’t gone over well, especially with Meg’s older sister, Sarah. Working in California for several more months was a good excuse, and he’d stuck to it—but what about next year?
    He wished he’d never told them his own family didn’t observe holidays—any holiday, even birthdays. As children, both of his parents had belonged to a church that didn’t approve of holidays, and although they didn’t belong to that particular sect anymore, the habits were there. Even before she died, Meg’s parents saw it as their duty to make up for the first twenty years of his life. Just a couple of years earlier, they’d hired caterers and a band for his thirtieth birthday party.
    Sometimes he felt like they loved him more than Meg ever had. It wasn’t something he’d ever said out loud, to anyone, and he never would. It might sound like he blamed her, when all she’d done was hold on as tightly as she could, afraid of facing the darkness alone. If he’d been the one who’d found out he had cancer just as his first college loan payments were coming due, he might’ve felt his love for his girlfriend deepening, felt a need to hurry and do as much as he could as long as he could, right now, while he still could.
    He didn’t regret marrying her. He’d known he wanted to marry her on the fourth date. He’d proposed two months later.
    But she’d said no. It was only when she’d gotten the diagnosis that she suddenly seemed eager to make it forever…
    It’s not only me who has to move on. But how can I do that to them? Take away another one of their children?
    He greeted Virginia at the front desk as he strode past to his office. Just a quick stop to file a few things in the cabinet before returning to his cubicle in the art room next to April.
    He would move out of the art room today. He’d decided that several times on the plane. Rita had shown him plenty, proving to him that the art room was more than pulling its weight, even with the expensive software and other equipment. They managed pretty well, actually, with less staff than they needed. Rita had told him about the freelancers she’d had to send home within the last year, assuring him that although April was new and untrained, she could draw and