Together With You (21 page)

At the end of the hall, he flipped on a light in a room he used two or three times a day for laser surgery. As she took in the sophisticated equipment, he told her a little about the procedures he performed.

Carly ran her hand along the table holding a laser. “It's amazing what you can do.”

“It's science.”

“It's healing,” she said, lifting her chin.

Ryan expected more from her, maybe a pitch for Christianity, but she walked out of the room, leaving him with a thought that often plagued him. As an ophthalmologist, he understood the workings of the human eye, but he couldn't explain the randomness of conditions like macular degeneration, retinopathy, cataracts. Some people lost their vision; others didn't. No matter how skilled Ryan was, he couldn't make the blind see. Some things in life really were a mystery.

He showed Carly the four exam rooms, the break room, and the optical shop with its wall of eyeglass frames. She plucked a pair off the wall, put them on, and faced him. “What do you think?”

They were big, black, and goofy. Ryan laughed. “Those are the Groucho glasses.” He reached for a pair above her head. “Try these.”

They were from a line named for a Hollywood actress, diamond studded, and a deep purple. Old ladies loved them. Carly put them on and giggled. “Does anyone actually
wear
these?”

“Only Mrs. Wigglebottom.”

Chuckling, she plucked them off her nose. Ryan handed her another pair. They were like the Groucho glasses but for women. He had a hunch she'd look cute in them.

She balanced them on her nose, then made a goofy face in the mirror. “Nerd girl!”

“Or a librarian.”
A sexy one.

As she pouted into the mirror, it occurred to him that taking her out to dinner bordered on a date. And if he told the truth, he didn't mind that idea at all.

As soon as Carly walked with Ryan into the candle-lit restaurant, she wished she'd turned down his invitation. She had no business eating alone with him, especially in a place lit almost solely by pillar
candles in wrought-iron sconces. There were even more candles on the tables, and the high-backed booths made each table private.

They had agreed on Rosa's Hacienda because of the food. Without Penny, whose taste buds rebelled at anything spicy or slimy, they were free to indulge in enchiladas, salsa, and guacamole. Normally Carly's mouth would have watered at the delicious aromas, but when she thought of the conversation about Denise, dread stole her appetite. Nervous, she followed the hostess to a booth in the back corner, Ryan trailing behind her. A waiter brought chips and salsa and they ordered.

As soon as the menu left his hand, Ryan turned to her. “So what happened with Denise?”

Where did Carly start? A slow buildup or a running jump off the cliff? Taking a breath, she jumped off the cliff. “She thinks you and I are romantically involved. It's ridiculous, of course.”

Ryan said nothing. Not a word. But candlelight danced in his eyes as he reached for a chip. “I don't think it's ridiculous at all. It's not true, but it's not ridiculous.”

“Of course it's ridiculous.”

“Why?”

Refusing to be flustered, she ignored the roguish quirk of his dark brows. “It has to be ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because it is. Denise is looking for trouble.”

“Maybe.” Ryan dipped a chip in the salsa. “A lot of people would make the same assumption. You and I are both mature adults. It's how most people live now.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What do you mean?”

Carly had all sorts of opinions about the modern dating culture, especially as a social worker who'd seen both teenagers and twenty-something moms struggle to raise their kids alone. The teens, unable to support themselves, ended up with a parent or
relative. The twenty-somethings broke her heart even more. They were stuck in dead-end jobs in retail or call centers. On their own, they juggled rent, day care, child-rearing, and dating in a never-ending battle for both financial and emotional security.

Carly loved talking about relationships, romance, and everything in between, but she didn't want to have that conversation with Ryan, especially not the part where she talked to teenage girls about treating their bodies with respect. When her father preached about purity from the pulpit, he spoke for Carly, too.
“The God-given instinct to
procreate is one of the strongest forces of nature, and what do we do? We put off marriage until we finish school, have jobs, and buy houses with big mortgages.
That's a long time, folks. I have to wonder
if we've put material needs before the need to love and be loved.”

With Ryan seated across from her, his eyes glinting with something indecipherable, she understood her father's lament in a deeply personal way. She struggled with that exact trade-off. She loved her work, but she very much wanted to be a wife and mother. And, like her father said, physical desire was one of the strongest forces of nature, one she battled as much as any human being.

Seated across from Ryan now, she couldn't help but notice his strong jaw, the width of his shoulders, the amused-yet-serious set of his mouth.

He reached for a second chip. “You know what I'm saying, Carly. Surely you've had a boyfriend or two.”

Her almost-fiancé in college was none of his business, but if she reacted too strongly, he'd wonder why. Determined to be true to herself, she kept her voice casual. “A few. A serious one in college.”

“So you get it.”

“Get what?” She knew what he meant but wanted to hear his idea of what
it
was. He stared at her as if she were an idiot, which she wasn't. “Of course I know what
can
happen. But we all make
choices—
personal
ones.” She'd made hers to wait for marriage, and while the choice wasn't easy, she had no regrets.

“Is ‘personal' code for ‘mind your own business'?”

“Yes.”

His hand rose in mock surrender. “You brought it up. Not me.”

“
Denise
brought it up.” Carly nudged the chip basket closer to him. “I thought you should know.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the waiter arrived with their meals—carne asada for him and chiles rellenos for her. The food smelled delicious and she was hungry. With a little luck, Ryan would be quiet now and eat.

When he cut into the steak, she relaxed. But he stopped short of lifting the fork to his mouth. With his hand poised over his plate, he studied her. “I have the feeling I hit a nerve.”

“You didn't.”

“Are you sure? Because if I crossed a line, I want to apologize.”

“Drop it. Please.” She did
not
want to have this conversation. He was too male, too strong, and a reminder that she was twenty-eight and single. Determined to shove her rattled nerves back into place, she cut the chile relleno with her fork, pressing so hard metal scraped on the plate.

As she raised the bite to her lips, she glanced at Ryan. With the candle throwing shadows on his face, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, ever met, ever known as a friend. A wanting took root in her belly, and she thought of the teenage crushes she'd had on movie stars, even the boy in her chemistry class. Those crushes had been safe, because they were pure fantasy, even the crush on the boy in chemistry, because he was a football star and didn't notice her.

But Ryan was sitting across from her. He was real, one hundred percent male, and studying her as if she were an exotic flower. His thoughts were a mystery to her, which she supposed was for the best. He belonged in “crush” land, not in reality.

“Carly?”

She saw determination in his eyes and braced for a battle with two enemies—her heart, because her feelings had to be hidden, and with Ryan, who needed to be told again to mind his own business. Except dodging him seemed cowardly. If she didn't stick up for her beliefs, who would? The thought unnerved her, but she was also her father's daughter
and
her Father's daughter. If Queen Esther could stand up to a powerful Persian king for the sake of her people, surely Carly could handle an awkward conversation with Ryan.

With that thought firmly in her mind, she met his gaze and held it. “All right, we'll talk. What do you want to know?”

I
don't mean to pry, but I wonder if someone hurt you.”

Carly's mouth was full, so she couldn't reply. But displeasure shot from her eyes and she chewed faster, obviously eager to tell him to back off.

Ryan took advantage and spoke his mind. “Whoever the guy was, he was an idiot.”

Finally she swallowed. “That's not it.”

“Then what is it?”

She paused with the fork poised over the plate, her eyes slightly narrowed and her chin up. The coolness in her expression rankled him, or maybe what rankled him was the intensity of his curiosity about that boyfriend.

She set down the fork. “You won't agree with what I'm about to say.”

“Say it anyway.” Ryan inhaled the scents of cilantro and candle wax, distinct smells that burned into his consciousness. There was no reticence in Carly's expression now, only a quiet confidence.

She set down her fork, blotted her lips with the napkin, and met his stare with a strong one of her own. “I don't take sex casually.”

The bones in his spine snapped into a rigid line. “That's candid.”

“Like you said, we're adults.” She sat straighter, her shoulders square and her chin firm. “I can handle frank talk if you can.”

“Go for it.”

“For two years I worked with teenage girls at Sparrow House. I saw a little bit of everything—teen pregnancy, abandonment issues, attachment disorders. Every one of the girls at Sparrow House was hurting. Every one of them had an empty place in her heart, one she tried to fill in ways that offered temporary relief but not long-term satisfaction.”

“So far, we agree.” He snagged another bite of his dinner.

“That part is a no-brainer,” she replied after swallowing another bite for herself. “The question is, what do we give them to fill that empty place in their hearts?”

“Are you asking my opinion?”

“Yes.”

“The obvious answer is that we give them a strong sense of self. We teach them to be smart and confident, to care for others and work for what they want. I'm trying to do that for Kyle and Eric. And Penny, too.”

“Yes, you are.” She sounded amenable enough, but Ryan sensed a trap. “And how are you doing that?”

“By being their father.”

“Exactly. But the girls I counseled at Sparrow House didn't have fathers. Some of them were victims of tragedy, orphans with no family at all. A couple of the girls ran away from horrible abuse, wisely in my opinion. And the last one—” Carly inhaled sharply. “That's a story for another time.”

Ryan wondered again about that raw nerve. He had assumed a man broke her heart, but maybe it had been someone else, maybe that mystery client at Sparrow House.

Carly took another bite, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. “This is just my opinion, but I think our social troubles come down
to the breakdown of the family. Without love and at least some stability, children suffer. If they're lucky, they find a caring adult, maybe a teacher or a neighbor, someone who'll shield them a little, teach them, and help them to make safe choices.”

“You were that person.”

“I tried, but—” She clenched her jaw so hard that it shook. “Leave me out of it. Okay?”

“All right.” But he'd learned something important. Carly had a secret, and it was festering the way Ryan's failings had festered into a disaster for his family.

She picked up where she left off. “If a girl
doesn't
find that adult, or if the adult fails her, she turns to her friends, television, music, social media. You've seen the messages she gets.”

Ryan considered the magazine covers that were all about being sexy, music videos that bordered on pornographic, and news stories about teenagers “sexting.” As much as he believed in an individual's right to set his or her own moral compass, how did a teenager set that compass without a sense of morality? “It gets messy, doesn't it?”

“Yes, very.” Carly dabbed at her lips with the napkin. “And it gets even messier when a girl is told to define herself through the eyes of others, particularly men. She's told she has to be beautiful and sexy to be loved.”

“That's just wrong.”

“It's also a reality.” She took a sip of her Pepsi. “When a girl matures, nature kicks in. She becomes sexually aware, and she's told sex can be whatever she wants it to be—casual or special, fun or forever. But that's not true. It takes a two-way commitment for a relationship to be special and forever.”

Ryan agreed in one sense but not another. “
Forever
is a long time. Not every relationship needs to last that long to have meaning.”

“Maybe for some people,” she said diplomatically. “But memories are forever, both good and bad. At Sparrow House I worked
with a pregnant sixteen-year-old choosing between adoption and keeping a baby she couldn't support. She chose adoption. She'll heal from the experience, but she won't ever forget her son's birthday, the name she wanted to give him, or the one time she kissed his face.”

Ryan felt a pang. Who wouldn't? But logic trumped emotion in his world, and he enjoyed a good debate. He also liked to win, and Carly was running circles around him and eating her meal at the same time.

“There's more.” Excited now, she swallowed fast. “Everyone agrees teenage girls are vulnerable, but what about older women? What about the woman who doesn't want marriage and kids in her twenties but changes her mind in her thirties?”

“Women like Denise.”

“Exactly.” Carly set down the fork. “She had a great career and saw the world. She's never said anything, but I assume she had a few relationships.”

“Yes.” Ryan knew the details through Jenna. “She dated an attorney for ten years, but they never married. Back then, she didn't want kids.”

“But now she wants Penny.” Carly's voice softened, maybe with her own longing for children. “I have to wonder if Denise feels a little cheated by life. She had a great career, and it fulfilled her in important ways, but a job won't love you.”

He agreed but only in part. “It's a little old-fashioned to say women have to be married and have kids to be happy.”

“I'm not saying that at all. But I
do
think human beings have a hole in their hearts that's meant to be filled by God and other people.”

He ignored the “God” part. She had faith. So what? It made her a nice person. It shaped her the way being Japanese or Hispanic shaped other people. It was a matter of culture. A Kentucky culture, unsophisticated but genuine. “So no man—or woman—is an island.”

An earnest glow beamed from her eyes. “To paraphrase John Donne, a poet and a clergyman, yes.”

Ryan saw a hole in her argument. “If no man's an island, what's wrong with two people connecting in a way that meets their needs, whether it's long-term or short-term?”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, then studied him with the saddest expression he'd ever seen on her face. “I don't mean to be callous here, or harsh. But I think you know the answer.”

She meant Penny, the devastation to Heather and the boys, the guilt he wore like a hair shirt. As much as Ryan wanted to argue with her, his own life testified against him. They both knew it, but he felt compelled to fight for his convictions. “You said earlier that we all make choices.”

“I believe that.”

“So if two people want the same thing and are willing to be responsible for the risks, what's wrong with that?”

“A one-night stand?”

Her gentle tone unnerved him. He felt judged, even condemned, but he couldn't accuse Carly of casting stones. The pressure welled from some place deep and internal. He blinked and recalled his mother's reaction to the divorce. She'd hugged him and told him to forgive himself and start over.
“You're human, Ryan. I pray for you
every day.”
A peculiar yearning to embrace that mysterious deliverance tugged at him, but he forced it back with a sneer aimed at Carly. “You're being unrealistic. What's wrong with adults doing what adults do? It's just nature. Sex is part of life.”

“Of course it is.” She held his gaze without blushing. “God created it, and I hear He did a bang-up job of it.”

Like honey dripping from a wooden spoon, the implication of what she admitted sank into Ryan's mind.
I hear . . .
Carly was a virgin. He knew she was a Christian, but the depth of her commitment—and innocence—stunned him. He didn't know anyone who had resisted the temptation to have sex before marriage, not
a soul, and he didn't know what to think now, except she was the strongest woman he'd ever met.

And the most beautiful.

And the kindest.

And so much more.

The man who earned her love would be the luckiest fellow on earth, a thought that filled him with jealousy in one breath, hope in the next, and a love so strong he barely kept from telling her how deeply he cared about her. She deserved a man like herself, not someone with Ryan's lousy track record and semicynical attitude.

Had she meant to reveal her innocence? Apparently not, because her cheeks looked sunburned. The blush implied more than embarrassment over a sensitive subject. It revealed awareness of him as a man, awareness of the attraction simmering between them. Denise wasn't nearly as off base as Carly wanted him to believe. She had feelings for him, the same kind he had for her.

Back off,
he told himself. But this was Carly, and he cared about her. He worried about her, too. The world was a big bad place, especially for Little Red Riding Hood with her tender heart. A long time ago, Ryan had been the Big Bad Wolf. He'd never repeat that mistake, but what did he do with this attraction to Carly? Unsure and annoyed by his weakness, he finished the meal in silence. So did Carly, until she set down her fork.

The blush had faded, and in its place he saw a quiet determination. “So that's my opinion,” she said with dignity. “And my choice.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”

A busboy took their plates. Ryan settled the bill, and they headed to the car with the awkwardness sharp until Carly mentioned the weather. Ryan agreed it was a tad bit chilly. The atmosphere between them was chilly, too. He supposed it needed to stay that way, but he didn't like that choice at all.

Penny hated the airplanes at Aunt DeeDee's house, but she loved Aunt DeeDee because they talked about Penny's mother. Aunt DeeDee had the same pretty voice. Best of all, tonight she'd made Penny's favorite kind of soup for dinner, the one her mother made with chicken and lots of noodles.

They were eating now, and Penny was happy—except for the noisy airplanes. When a big one zoomed by, she dropped her spoon and covered her ears the way Carly told her. Carly said it gave her
control.
Penny wasn't quite sure what
control
was, but Carly helped her all the time, and Penny trusted her.

Aunt DeeDee set down her spoon and said something.

Penny couldn't hear, because her hands were on her ears. When the airplane was gone, she lowered her hands.

“You'll get used to it, honey.” Aunt DeeDee patted Penny's arm. “You know what it sounds like to me?”

Penny shook her head.

“A cat purring. A great big cat,” Aunt DeeDee said in her fun voice. “Maybe we should get a kitten. Would you like that?”

Penny forgot all about the jets. “A cat like Wild Thing?”

“Who's Wild Thing?”

“She's Carly's cat. So is Tom, but he's not cuddly.” Penny thought Wild Thing was the sweetest cat in the world. Sometimes Carly would sit with Penny on the couch, and they'd pet Wild Thing together. That way Wild Thing wasn't scared, and Penny wasn't too rough.

“You like Miss Carly, don't you?”

“A lot.” Carly did special things for her, and she didn't get too mad when Penny messed up, which was a lot. No matter how busy Carly was, she talked in a nice way that Penny could understand.
“Your mind fills
up,”
Carly had said to her.
“Sometimes mine does,
too. Not because of how my brain works, but because
my heart gets too full.”

Penny understood being filled up, because the airplanes were filling her head with noise. Carly said Penny should close her eyes and picture the clouds when she needed to be quiet, so she did it now.

“Penny?” Aunt DeeDee tapped her shoulder with her fingernail. Penny's eyes popped open, but her mind stayed in the clouds.

“Pay attention,” Aunt DeeDee said. “I asked what you wanted to do tomorrow. We could go to the zoo or a big toy store. Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Aunt DeeDee smiled in that giant way that showed lots of teeth. “Where do you want to go?”

Penny knew exactly where she wanted to go. She wanted to go where her mommy lived. Last weekend, when Dr. Daddy's magic car took her to his house instead of home to her mother, she wondered if she needed to ride in a boat like the one that took her mother's ashes to the ocean. “I want to go to the beach.”