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"Bull to the shit,'' Hilda said, lifting her chin. ''That's a bunch of malarkey piled on malarkey. I knew the minute I saw you there was something special about you, and being around you, watching you work on this festival, and generously giving your time and charm to Abigail, I knew you fit this town like a glass slipper."
Leif gave a humorless laugh. “That slipper was dropped and shattered weeks ago. I fit this town like a pair of too small Birkenstocks. Look, I've loved my time here, but when the school year is over, regardless of whether I've found the man who fathered me or not, I'm heading west. Abigail's better off sticking to what she knows."
"Like Cal?"
"Or a man who fits her world better. We had fun, but that's all it can be."
"Well, I’ll be damned, you love her, too.”
Leif almost laughed because he wasn’t sure he knew what love was. Maybe he had fallen for Abigail. Or maybe he just longed for something to fill him that never would. “Remember how you said approval is too easily given?"
She nodded.
"Well, so is the concept of love.”
Hilda's brow wrinkled just like her younger cousin’s. “So you're discounting love because…?”
"In my case, it doesn’t lead to anything good.”
Hilda twisted her lips, a few seconds ticking off, before she said, “Did I ever tell you about Sherburn? My late husband?"
Leif looked desperately toward the front door. He needed to get home and pour a drink, not get a lecture about love from Hilda.
"Well, he was a horrible man."
Leif made a face. "So why did you marry him?"
"Because he was rich as hell and spent almost all his time at the office."
"You could be doing more harm than good here, Hilda."
''Anyway, Sherburn worked incessantly to make money, never really caring what I did with my time as long as I attended his business and family functions in New Orleans. When he died, he was loaded to his jowls with money but had absolutely nothing toshow for his life aside from his picture hanging on the wall of the firm he slaved years working for."
''And your point is?"
"I was the moron who thought I didn't belong here with Denny Trosclair. Denny was a plumber and wanted nothing more than a snug little house in Magnolia Bend, a bunch of babies, and me in his bed every night. My mama told me I was too good for Denny. She told me Magnolia Bend was a Podunktown full of backward, fashion-challenged busybodies."
''And it isn't?"
"No, this townisfull of the fashion-challenged, but my point is I believed what someone else told me about myself. Do I like having Sherburn’s millions at my disposal without having to look at his sour face every night over dinner? You betcha. But I'm jealous as hell of Kathy Trosclair with her cute window boxes and three pretty grandbabies. Who in the hell was my mother to convince me I was this?" Hilda waved a hand over her silk pantsuit, the large diamond rings catching the light from the crystal chandelier above them.
Her intense gaze caught his. "Don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong somewhere... that you are destined to be their image of you. You can take that however you wish, but just because you're pretty and you've left a string of broken hearts doesn't mean you are only that."
Leif watched the strong emotions storm across the face of a woman who normally reveled in her own bored indifference. He saw through to her pain and regret. There was nothing left to do but hug her.
"Oomph," she wheezed as he rose and gave her a squeeze.
"Thank you for sharing that with me. You're a remarkable woman who smells fantastic."
"Well, I can afford good perfume," she said, giving him a squeeze before releasing him.
"I know I'm more than what most people think of me, and I don't suffer from low self-esteem. But lately, I've felt like I'm walking across a sheet of thinning ice. I can't find my footing, my heart is in my throat, and any second I'm sure it will end in disaster."
"Yeah, sounds like love to me," Hilda said, catching one of his hands. "I would have loved a son like you. You're one of a kind, honey."
As Leif left Hilda's, he wanted to think he had a better grasp of what he needed to do, but he didn't. He felt more confused because his heart and his mind were at war, and sitting between the two was the search for his father. Perhaps if he could settle that, he would have a clearer picture of where he belonged in life. He didn't know why he thought this way, he just did.
But the road ahead lay obscured by indecision, fear of rejection, and all things Leif Lively was un accustomed to being.
