Bittersweet Surrender (11 page)

“No. He lives in Colorado now. He met her there.”

“Colorado. Estes Park?”

Scott looked surprised. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“We were going to move there once he retired. Seems odd, I know, with older people going south, but we loved the quiet village feel of it all. We loved nature, skiing, all that, so it seemed a perfect place. We vacationed there a lot, don't you remember?”

“Yeah, I guess I'd forgotten that.”

“He probably married that young thing he flirted with at the
Egg and I
where we went for breakfast,” she said with a forced laugh.

Scott's expression turned somber. He didn't say a word.

She stopped this time and grabbed his arm. “He didn't.”

“He told me she was a waitress there.”

The air couldn't seem to reach her lungs. Nausea radiated through her stomach.

“You all right, Carly?”

She had curves in all the right places.
Her feet pushed hard against the pavement. Faster. Faster.

“Hey, wait for me,” Scott said.

Hot tears scalded her eyes and stung her cheeks. Gary had pledged his love forever. But he left her when she needed him most.

Faster. Faster. Her legs screamed for relief as she left the business district behind and passed an elementary school. A chain-link fence bordered the playground to protect the children. Why hadn't Gary protected her? She was exposed, raw. He walked away. No, he ran away, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. Inside and out. Like nothing she had ever known.

Searing pain burned her shins. Onward. Past the cluster of trees, around the bend, past the grocery store, past the pizza parlor.

Push. Don't quit. Pain upon pain. Don't turn back. Keep going.

Was it her? Was it the cancer? Was it her body? Too grotesque and mangled? Too hideous to endure?

He was Beauty.

She was the Beast.

He probably lived with that woman before they got married. How long had he been seeing her? Was there an affair? Was it possible? Was he searching for a “real” woman?

Scalding breath climbed her throat. Her lungs burned, her legs felt like drying cement.

How could she ever think someone might love her again? She was still an embarrassment. The gaping hole was still there, and she couldn't even afford to get it fixed.

What was she thinking? Jake couldn't move here. Not yet. There was no time. No money. She was marked. Unclean. Imperfect.

Gary had tossed her aside like the Velveteen Rabbit.

No longer needed.

No longer wanted.

No longer loved.

“Carly, stop.” Scott grabbed her, took one look at her, and pulled her so hard against him she could feel his heart beating against her chest. “I'm so sorry.” While one hand refused to release her, the other stroked her hair, soothing her pain, calming her fears.

Oh, Lord, please help me . . .

After a few minutes she pulled herself away and reached into her pockets for a tissue and wiped her nose. “I can't believe I'm reacting this way. Our marriage wasn't that great. Still, he was my husband. He promised . . . I thought I had worked through all this. It's Magnolia and her drums. I'm tired and overreacting.” She lifted a weak smile.

Scott laughed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Your reaction is understandable. You were married to him. That's not something you ever get over completely. But the pain will ease with time.” He pulled her gently back into his comforting arms. “For both of us,” he whispered.

“Hey, brother,” Brian showed up at his
front door with food in hand.

“What's this?”

“You had said you would be home today, so I thought I'd bring you Chinese to eat with me. I told you Ellie and the girls left for her parents' house. I'm bach-ing it, so it looks like you'll be seeing more of me.” Brian laughed.

“All right by me.”

“You seem kind of down today. Everything all right?”

Scott told him about the situation with Carly and Gary.

“Oh, that's tough.” Brian looked toward the paperwork strewn across the dining room table. “Still working, huh?”

“Yeah. Trying to get Carly's taxes completed so we don't have to get another extension.”

“Problems?” Brian pulled the bowls of fried rice from the paper bag while Scott lifted the chicken broccoli and egg rolls from the other bag.

“Things were in a mess. But, well, there's something else.”

“Yeah?”

Scott pulled some paper plates from the cabinet. They spread their steamed rice on the plates and then dumped their main course over the top. Scott said a quick prayer over their meal and they dug in.

“There's a lot of money going to a supplier. Chocolate Indulgence, I think was the name. An unusually large sum for supplies. I can't seem to find any invoices to match it up.”

“So what do you think?”

“That's just it—I'm not sure. Soda?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Scott set to work filling glasses with ice, then brought the drinks to the table. “Ivy recorded the checks, but Carly had to sign them, so I don't know who actually wrote the checks out.”

“Why don't you ask Carly about it?”

“I may have to if I can't find the answer. I just hate to bother her. She's got a lot on her right now.” He speared a piece of broccoli and waved it. “The thing is she's saving her money for something and is really counting on a big disbursement check. But I don't think she's going to get it.”

Scott and Brian talked over Carly's business, Brian's family, and life in general. They had a nice visit, though Scott's thoughts never strayed too far from Carly and her business. He just hoped she wasn't hiding something.

Once back in her room to shower before
work, Carly stood at the dark computer. Jake hadn't written yesterday, which meant he probably wrote late last night. One thing she had discovered early on was that he was a late-night person. Clicking the On button, she turned toward the shower to give the computer time to boot up.

All through the shower her mind was consumed with thoughts of Gary and the news of his remarriage. Truth be known, she was surprised it hadn't happened before now, so she had no idea why it hit her so hard. Maybe it was the fact he had married someone younger, shapelier, more beautiful. Maybe it was the moving to Estes Park. Their place. Now he was sharing it with someone else.

Would it all be different today if not for the cancer?

She refused to look at herself. Her body had betrayed her.

Panic sliced through her as she remembered afresh that Jake didn't know. How did she think she could pull this off? What would ever make her think that a man could love her for who she was rather than what she looked like on the outside? Melissa Winters sprang to mind and the way she and Scott had looked at each other. Carly had been fooling herself.

One thing for sure: she wasn't letting Jake around Melissa.

After smoothing on the new lotion that filled her bathroom with the sweet scent of apples, she dressed, then wandered over to the computer and saw Marine Man had written.

Hey, Squirt, how's it going? I've had a long day tying up loose ends here. I'm looking forward to being back home. It will be great to get with C. J. again. We sure had some fun times when we were kids. Never had a better friend than your brother. I've missed that. So how's the chocolate spa business? Katelyn can't wait to see it. She's into health, spas, and all that. You'll probably be her hero. She could use one, that's for sure. Her old man just doesn't qualify. All of my medals and achievements don't matter to her. But you and your chocolate spa, now that's an accomplishment in her book. Well, you take care, and I'll see you soon. Love J

His letter disappointed her, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the way he referred to the chocolate spa as though it was silly that his daughter was impressed by it. Also, was there anything even remotely in that note that should encourage her toward any romantic inclination on his part? He couldn't wait to get back home and hang out with C. J.? What about her?

With a sigh, she spritzed on some hairspray and joined Magnolia in the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said, though her shins hurt and her pride was wounded.

“Well, look at you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed from your morning run with Scott.”

Carly could hardly say the same for Magnolia. Despite the fact it was summer, Magnolia had on a soft pink robe and matching fluffy slippers. Sponge curlers dripped from her hair like the last leaves of fall refusing to, well, fall. She yawned and stumbled against the kitchen chair before grabbing a cup of coffee.

“I must say I'm impressed with how Scott has held you accountable.” Magnolia slipped into her chair and sneezed twice.

“Yeah, some friend, huh?” Carly yawned.

“I'll say.”

Carly was surprised to hear Magnolia say something nice about Scott.

Another sneeze. “What do you have on?” Magnolia asked.

“Oh, a new lotion I found at the store the other day. Like it?”

“Oh dear.” The older woman dabbed at her nose. Carly knew all too well what that meant.

“Is it bothering you, Magnolia?” Of course, Carly knew the answer before she asked, but it was a little ritual they had perfected, so she hated to disappoint.

Magnolia looked up with sad eyes and sniffed a couple of times for emphasis. “Well, it is a bit strong. I'm afraid it might throw me into a full-blown allergy attack.”

“Okay, I'll just go wash it off.”

Carly grumbled to herself all the way back to her bathroom. This was her house and her lotion, but she couldn't enjoy either.

Stripping the sweet scent from her body, she took a minute to regain her composure, then headed back to the kitchen. “Better?”

Magnolia had poured soy milk over her oatmeal and scooped up a bite. She took a cautious whiff. “Better.”

Carly grabbed a glass of orange juice from the fridge and a banana from the counter.

“Why the sudden interest in losing weight?” she asked.

“Oh, you know, a woman reaches a certain age where you can't skip a meal and lose five pounds anymore. It takes more work.”

Boy, was that the understatement of the year.

“I suppose. As long as I'm eating healthy, I don't worry too much about my weight.”

Is there no one left in this world who eats for the sheer enjoyment of food?

“I want to apologize for the drum episode the other night. I forgot to mention it at lunch, and I'm sorry.”

“No problem.”

“You know how I love to try new things?”

“Hmm. Can't say that I do.”

“Well, anyway, right after your father died, I decided to indulge in drum lessons. My therapist told me it would be a good way to work through my grief and anger. I figured I'd go downstairs while you were sleeping and that way it wouldn't interrupt your work.”

Carly noticed Magnolia had never bothered to tell her she was playing the drums
before
she moved in.

“It is helping me emotionally.”

“Maybe I should buy a bongo set and join you.”

Magnolia's eyes brightened. “Really?”

“No.”

“So you're all right with the drums?”

“What can I say, Magnolia? I mean, your therapist tells you it will help, you think it's helping, so who am I to stand in your way?”
Merely the owner of this house that once was quiet, peaceful, and roomy.
Besides, remembering her own emotional outburst this morning made Carly realize working through one's anger was a good thing. Hopefully, one day she would get there.

“Well, I'll be at the Vermont Historical Society meeting this afternoon if you need me,” Magnolia said.

“Thanks, but I should be fine. I have a morning appointment, and this afternoon I plan to soak in a hot tub, then curl up with a good book.”

A pleasant smile graced her stepmother's lips. “Sounds delightful. I have plenty of great old books if you want to look through them.”

“Thanks, but I have a couple that I bought at the library sale.”

A strand of gray had slipped from one of Magnolia's curlers dangling across her forehead. “Oh, nonfiction?”

“No, fiction,” Carly said happily.

With a grumble about what this world was coming to, Magnolia got up and rinsed out her bowl. “For the life of me I can't understand why people would want to waste their precious time reading stories when there's so much out there to learn.”

“One can learn from fiction as well, Magnolia.”

“Maybe.”