Carly's Gift (34 page)

“Thanks for reminding me,” she said, her mind already beginning to map out the strategy she would employ with Ethan.

Later that evening Carly studied Ethan as he sat across the kitchen table from her, trying to read the myriad of emotions she saw playing across his face. Her mother had been right about how upset he would be. The only thing she hadn't taken into consideration was how quickly he would recover and begin “putting things in perspective,” as he had succinctly summed it up.

“I understand why you want to go over there to be with her as soon as you can, Carly,” Ethan said with an obvious show of patience. “All I'm saying is that if you'd just wait a couple more weeks, you could get in on a super-saver rate and your ticket would be a third of what you're paying now.” He got up from the kitchen table to pour himself another cup of coffee. “I don't know what makes you think we have any more money to spend on something like this now than we did a month ago.”

“This isn't negotiable, Ethan,” she told him. “I'm leaving tomorrow whether it suits you or not. I guess I was wrong to think you'd be with me on this.”

“Now wait just a minute. That's unfair, and you know it. The only reason I'm not getting on that plane with you is that I'm not as ready to give up on her as you seem to be.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Face it, Carly. People don't go rushing to the bedside of someone they expect to live.”

“Is that right? What about Shawn's accident? As I recall, I was in a pretty big hurry to get to the hospital that time, too.”

“That was because you didn't know he only had a couple of broken bones.”

The memory dredged up old angers. “And whose fault was that?”

“There you go again, remembering what suits you and forgetting the rest. You know how upset I was at the time. I couldn't be expected to—”

“Skip it, Ethan. I've heard it before.” She swept up the sugar he'd spilled and took it to the sink.

His spoon made a loud clanking noise as it hit the sides of his porcelain mug. “I suppose you thought I was lying when I told you we didn't have the money to go to England this year?” he said, going back to their original argument.

“Why is it that when you want something, it's never a problem? If we're so tight, why did we get a new SUV when there wasn't anything wrong with the old one? Even the mechanic said it was good for a couple more years.”

“You know how I feel about trading in the cars while they still have some resale value.”

She propped her hip against the counter and glared at him. “How dare you? This is a child who calls you father and you have the nerve to tell me the trade-in value of a used car ranks higher than seeing her?”

“You can't squeeze blood from a turnip. Just because you want there to be more money, doesn't make it happen.”

“Why is it you resort to clichés every time you're wrong?”

“I'm sorry I'm not as clever with words as your first lover, but then I didn't know it was a criteria for having a civil discussion with you.”

She ignored the taunt. “If we don't have it in savings, then you can sell some those precious stocks of yours.” The stunned look on his face would have been comical if the subject hadn't been so serious.

“That's my retirement,” he said, much the same way she imagined he would have responded had she asked him to give the employees at the plant all of Christmas Eve off instead of only half a day.

“Then just sell my half.”

“It doesn't work that way.”

“What you're really saying is that I have nothing in this marriage I can call my own.”

“And you think I do?”

“You have the control, Ethan, that's as good as having everything in your name.”

“I suppose your mother gave you the money to buy your ticket this time, too?” he asked, blithely going on.

“I put it on MasterCard.”

He fixed her with another stunned look. “Without asking me?”

“You might as well know it all,” she said, taking perverse pleasure in what would come next. “I got an advance on the card, too. If I'm careful, it will be enough to see me through at least a month over there. As a matter of fact, I maxed the card out. I wouldn't try to use it if I were you. It could be embarrassing.”

“Goddamn it, Carly. Do you know what the interest is on a charge card? We could have gotten a loan at the bank for half that.”

“
Could
is the operative word.” She shrugged. “Of course you still have the option of taking out that loan if you don't want to compromise your portfolio.”

“What's happened to you, Carly? I feel like I don't know you anymore.”

A profound sadness stole over her. “Isn't that funny? I was just thinking the same thing about you. It's been years since I had a glimpse of the compassionate person you used to be. What happened to the man who married a scared and pregnant young girl in order to give her and her baby a home? You would have sold your soul to be a part of our lives back then.” Tired of the futility of their argument, she crossed the room to go upstairs and pack.

“The man you used to know grew tired of chasing a dream. I finally decided it was time to stop running and do what I could to hold on to what I had.”

Carly paused at the doorway. “And I guess I finally grew tired of trying to help you off your treadmill. Look where it's left us, Ethan.”

Thirty

Carly leaned her
head against the leather upholstery in the backseat of David's Bentley, the woman she'd claimed to want to meet less than three weeks ago sitting two feet away. She couldn't help but think about the old saying—be careful what you wish for. It wasn't that Victoria had been anything less than gracious, it was more that Carly had been hoping against all logic and reason that Andrea would be the one to meet her at the airport.

Carly had seen a dozen pictures of Victoria; none of them had done her justice. She had the bone structure of a high-fashion model, thick dark hair that swept her shoulders, and dark, wide-set eyes that could dismiss someone or something with a blink. It was obvious—by the way she moved, talked, and conducted herself—that she'd been born privileged. Carly had felt clumsy and tongue-tied from the moment they'd met.

“David said you would likely be exhausted,” Victoria said. “He meant to come himself, but was a bit pushed for time what with making the arrangements for Andrea to go to the hospital tomorrow morning.”

“I've felt better,” Carly admitted. “But I'm not sure whether it's fatigue or worry.”

A quick, sympathetic smile pulled Victoria's full lips into a less rigid shape. “It's a dreadfully sad business that's brought you here, certainly. Not at all like last time.”

Carly felt strange talking to Victoria about that trip. “I was sorry to miss meeting you then. I had hoped to thank you personally for all you've done for Andrea.”

“She's really a lovely child. Not as I'd expected at all. Keeps to her own company most of the time, but manages to conduct herself quite well socially when the occasion arises.”

It was the tone of Victoria's voice, not the words, that told Carly everything she had just said was intended as a compliment. “How is she today? Have you seen her?”

“Still resistant about going to the hospital, I'm afraid.”

“It seems like months since I've seen her.”

Victoria crossed her legs and adjusted her skirt before saying anything more. “I'm afraid it's inconvenient for me to be out of the city while you're here this time,” she said, with a slight crack in her confidence. “David assured me you'd understand that I felt it a bit awkward to have you staying at the house. Subject to your approval, of course, I've made other arrangements. I've a dear friend who has quite a nice flat near the hospital who's not using it at the moment and has let it to us. For the entire summer, if need be.”

“How close to the hospital is it?”

“Only a block and a bit.” She was obviously relieved to see that Carly wasn't upset at being turned away from the manor. “There's a woman who comes in twice a week and several quite good restaurants nearby.”

Carly's midwestern background demanded that she pay the rent on the apartment herself, but it was not the kind of thing you talked about with someone like Victoria. She'd settle up with David before she returned home. “I appreciate your finding something so close to Andrea. It will make visiting her much easier.”

“She's in for a bit of a rough go.”

An unreasoning surge of jealousy hit Carly. How dare Victoria know so much about what Andrea was going through when Carly knew practically nothing? “I wish she'd let us tell Jeffery,” she said. “He's wonderful with her and I think she's going to need him to get through this.”

The look on Victoria's face clearly indicated what a bad idea she thought contacting Jeffery was. “I'm sure the Armstrongs will appreciate Andrea's reluctance to tell Jeffery just yet. They have a high regard for him and for his studies.”

Plainly nothing she could say would turn Victoria into an ally where Jeffery was concerned. Carly let the subject drop. She stared out the window, looking for landmarks that would indicate how much farther they had to go to reach the city. “I would like to stop by the house to see Andrea before we go to the flat.”

“Of course,” Victoria said with a polite smile.

“Andrea tells me you've been working on a special project,” Carly said, steering the conversation onto safer ground.

It was all the encouragement Victoria needed to launch into a subject that carried them the rest of the way into London.

Carly held her breath as she walked slowly into Andrea's room, as much out of shock at seeing how fragile and pale her daughter looked as fear of waking her. How could so few days make such a difference? Or had she been blinded when she'd been here then, only seeing what she'd wanted to see? Looking at Andrea now, it was ludicrous to think anyone could ever attribute her illness to pregnancy.

Andrea stirred and opened her eyes. “Mom?”

Carly went to the side of the bed and knelt down on the floor, afraid she would disturb Andrea by sitting next to her. “I got here as soon as I could.”

Andrea frowned. “I told David not to let you come. Shawn and Eric need you at home.”

“Your brothers are capable of taking care of themselves—at their age, they'd better be.” Carly brushed the hair back from Andrea's forehead. “What time are you scheduled to be admitted tomorrow morning?”

Andrea rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I'm not.”

“But Victoria said—”

“I don't care what she said. I'm not going.”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I know what they're going to do.”

Carly flinched. “Well, I don't, so I'd appreciate your telling me,” she said, recognizing Andrea's need to get something off her chest. “Or at least I don't know everything.”

“There was a girl at my school who got cancer last year. After they operated on her, she had to take all this really strong chemotherapy junk. She got so sick she had to drop out of school.” She turned her head and pinned Carly with a pleading look. “I've only got a few more weeks, Mom. I can't let that happen.”

“There has to be a way you could keep up with your studies at the hospital. I'll help you. So will David.” She offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “I promise you, one way or another, we'll get you to Oxford.”

“I can't take the chance. It's only a couple of weeks.”

“Sweetheart, a couple of weeks can make—” Carly stopped at the smile Andrea gave her. “What's that for?”

“You always haul out the ‘sweetheart' when you intend to put the muscle on one of us.”

“Am I really that transparent?”

“Sometimes. Shawn said you called him sweetheart twenty times when he was in the hospital.”

Carly smiled. “Okay, so it's out with sweetheart. How does ‘baby' sound instead? Better yet, how about ‘sugarpie?' ”

Andrea laughed out loud. “Why don't you change to something really subtle, like lambkins? We'd never catch on.”

“What's all the noise in here?” David asked, filling the doorway.

Carly's heart added an extra beat when she turned to look at him. He'd still been at the hospital when she'd arrived. “Andrea was just unraveling my Super Mom cape.” She settled more comfortably on her haunches. “I'm afraid I'm grounded until I can get it fixed.”

David came into the room. He stopped at the foot of Andrea's bed and stared down at her. “How does Chinese sound for dinner?”

Andrea made a face. “I'm not very hungry.”