by Lynne, Donya
“Once. Last night. Before dinner with her parents.”
“And . . . ?”
“She seemed . . . I don’t know . . . I thought things were going well, but then we got into a huge argument, and she didn’t bring it back up, even though we made up today.”
“And I take it you didn’t bring it back up, either.”
“No.”
Rob cleared his throat and rested his arms on the bar. “Okay, I don’t know exactly what type of sex acts we’re talking about here, and I don’t want to know. That’s between you, your god, and Karma. But maybe she’s still getting used to the idea. You ever think of that?”
“Yeah, maybe.” He didn’t really think that was the case, but what did he know? He was too caught up in the thick of the situation to see clearly.
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, eating peanuts, Rob sipping his water. Then Rob set his bottle down in a way Mark had come to know meant he was about to get smacked with a Rob-ism. One that would hit him right between the eyes. Hard.
“Go ahead,” he said, glancing at Rob. “I know you’ve got something on your mind.”
Rob sighed and bowed his head. A couple of seconds later, he looked up and said, “Okay, I’m just going to put this out there. Don’t get mad. Just hear me out.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just say it.”
“Did you ever stop to think you’re subconsciously pushing her away?”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re you, Mark. You spent six years pushing away every woman you got involved with. You even pushed Karma away. Which led to some fabulous stories we all laughed over tonight, I might add, but that’s beside the point. The point is, you pushed her away.”
“But that was before.”
“Do you really think it’s that easy to change?”
“What are you saying? That I’m intentionally pushing Karma away again without realizing it?”
“I don’t know, but it’s possible.” Rob sat forward. “Think about it. Keeping women at arm’s length became a way of life for you after Carol. Then you met Karma, and she changed everything. Except you can’t just walk away from your past like it never happened. You can’t just snap your fingers and make all your bad habits evaporate. It’s not that easy.”
“You don’t think I know that, Rob?” He thumped the side of his fist on the bar.
“I don’t know, man. You tell me.”
Mark sat back and waved his hand down the front of him. “You call this easy? What I’m going through? Does this look easy to you?”
“Mark, come on, give yourself a break.”
“Getting to this point hasn’t been easy. Opening up to her about my past wasn’t easy. Sitting back waiting for her to acknowledge what I told her?” He shook his head. “Not easy, Rob. So, don’t preach to me about shit being hard, because I’m living it. I’m there. Right in the middle of fucked up. Because it’s not just all this shit I’m dealing with. It’s the wedding, too.” And here he went through part two of his troubles. “I’ve proposed. I’ve given her the ring. I can’t see my life without her. But every time I think about the actual ceremony, I freeze. I panic. I get a pain deep down in the center of my chest.” He poked the tip of his index finger against his sternum. “I get nauseous, start perspiring. I freak out.”
“Have you told Karma this?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve already upset her enough by sharing my past with her. She won’t even talk about the other shit. I can’t throw this on the fire. It’d be like a can of kerosene.” He made a noise like an explosion, popping his splayed hands out in front of him. Then he sighed and grabbed another peanut. “I can’t disappoint her again. I can’t tell her that I’m scared shitless of our wedding. That I’m terrified of standing at the front of the aisle wondering, worrying, fucking freaking out that she won’t appear at the end of it and walk down that aisle toward me! That would devastate her. She deserves better than that.”
“She deserves to know the truth.”
“And what if the truth is too much for her to take, and she leaves?”
Rob leaned away, his eyes narrowing. “That’s what you’re really scared of, isn’t it? That she’ll leave.”
Mark stared at him for several seconds, hardly breathing. The thought of Karma leaving him was enough to send ice through his blood.
“Yes,” he finally said. “I’m terrified she’s going to walk away.”
“Why?” Rob searched his eyes. “I saw how she looked at you back there. I heard the tone in her voice when she talked about you. She loves you, man. Maybe your relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? I don’t see a woman preparing to run when I look at Karma. I see a woman in love. A woman who just wants to marry you.”
He lowered his gaze to the pile of peanuts and broken shells on the bar. “Yeah, and I can’t even suck up enough courage to set a damn date.” He frowned at himself as he met Rob’s gaze again. “I can’t even give her the one thing she wants.”
“You will. Have faith.”
“I don’t know, Rob. I just don’t know. Maybe I’m not redeemable. Maybe I’m too fucked up to be good for any woman, anymore.” He shook his head shamefully. “Two years ago, I had my shit together. I—”
“Hold up.” Rob raised his hand. “Your shit was not together. If you think that, you’re delusional.”
Mark huffed. “Yeah, well at least I knew what I wanted and how to go after it. Now . . .”
“Are you saying you regret this? That you regret meeting Karma?”
He scowled. “No. Hell, no. But I’m stuck. Something in my head is stuck. I want to marry Karma, but every time she wants to talk about the wedding I go into a total lockdown. Shouldn’t I be excited about this? I thought all that shit with Carol was behind me by now. Like now that I know I’ve found the woman I’ll be spending the rest of my life with I should be more than ready to walk down the aisle—unable to wait even one more day.”
“And you’re not?”
“No.” The shame exhausted him. For weeks, he’d forced himself not to show how heavily his thoughts weighed on him, but now he let himself give in. His shoulders caved, he closed his eyes, and he let the morose take him.
“Why not?” Suspicion dripped from Rob’s words. Obviously, Rob knew there was more. And he knew it was bad.
And he was right.
“There’s still something I haven’t told Karma. One last thing I haven’t shared with her.” He thought about the last item on his list. The one he’d crossed off but weighed so heavily on his soul he could barely stand sometimes.
Was that why he’d been thinking more about Carol as the weeks passed? He couldn’t understand why she kept infiltrating his thoughts. It wasn’t that he wanted her back or that he regretted things hadn’t worked out. He was completely devoted to Karma and wanted no one but her. But his thoughts kept taking him back to Carol. Not constantly, but at some of the most inopportune times. Like when he was lying in bed at night. When he was just about to fall asleep. Then his subconscious threw an image of Carol—of some past memory—into his head. A memory of happier times. And then of his wedding day. He’d even dreamed of that day, waking with a start, covered in sweat, heart racing, breath coming in hard bursts. It was like there was some vital component he was missing. Some key that would unlock everything and finally let him go. But he couldn’t find it. Couldn’t figure out what it was.
“I keep thinking about Carol,” he said quietly.
“Excuse me?” Rob sounded fit to bust something. “What do you mean, you’ve been thinking about Carol? Like, you want to get back with her or feel like you’re settling for second best by choosing Karma?”
Mark rose back to his full height, scowling. “Hell no. That’s not what I meant. Not even close. That’s why I’m so confused. I don’t want her. But I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I have fucking nightmares about it, for Christ’s sake. Isn’t that g
oing to be just fabulous when Karma and I are living together and sharing a bed every night instead of just a few nights a week? So far, I’ve only had the nightmares when I’m alone.”
“Well, maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”
He scoffed, feeling tapped out. “Like what?” He’d been trying to solve this riddle for over a month.
“Like maybe it’s time you and Carol talk. Bury the hatchet. Discuss what happened, so you can both move on once and for all.”
He crumbled another peanut shell. “We already talked, and I know what happened.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rob leveled him with a cut-through-the-bullshit stare. “Do you really know what happened, Mark, or are you relying on that emotionally heated confrontation the two of you had at her place after you found her in bed with Antonio on your wedding day? Because that’s the last time you two actually talked to one another. And I use that term loosely, because from how you’ve described it, there was more yelling than talking going on that day. And yelling usually doesn’t go hand-in-hand with rational, air-clearing conversations. So, I’ll ask again. Do you really know what went wrong with Carol? Or are you still running from the truth?”
Mark frowned, words failing him.
“I thought so.” Rob finished his bottle of water and tossed it in the recycle bin.
“Okay, so maybe you’re right. Maybe Carol and I haven’t talked. What do I do about it now?”
Rob tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Well, let’s see. How about you . . . gee, oh, I don’t know . . . talk to her.”
Could the solution to his problems really be that simple? It sounded too good to be true. Besides, the last person he wanted to see was Carol. The last time he’d seen her, he’d barfed his guts out. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain his upchuck response if he had to face her again.
“I don’t know, Rob.”
“Well, think about it.” He stood. “It could go a long way toward making things right. Not only for you and Karma, but for Carol, too.”
“You say that is if I should feel sorry for her.” He scowled. “I don’t care how she feels.”
“Well, maybe you should. Maybe that’s what’s eating at you. Because I’m sure she still carries a lot of guilt over what happened. Then again, I could be wrong about that, but for all Carol’s faults, she seemed like a pretty conscientious woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been burdened with her actions for the past eight years. Giving her the opportunity to apologize and clear her conscience could go a long way toward helping you both let go of the past.”
Mark cleaned up the bar and tossed the remaining peanuts back into the cupboard.
“I’ll think about it. No promises. We’ll see.”
They started for the exit. “Are you and Karma sticking around tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to come over for lunch with Holly and me?”
“Can’t. We’re going furniture shopping.”
Rob nodded. “That’s right. You’re moving into your new place Friday.”
“Yep. Less than a week.” And his head was in every shithole known to man instead of focusing on the happiness that he and the love of his life were finally going to be under the same roof.
Rob opened the door out of the pool room then stopped. “You’re on the verge of having it all, Mark. Don’t blow it.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Try harder. And while you’re at it, open up to Karma about what it is you want. If she hasn’t brought up whatever the two of you talked about a few weeks ago, and it’s that important to you, then you do it. You bring it up.” Rob nodded in the direction of the party. “Now, go find your woman and tell her how much you love her. Better yet, show her.”
That much he could do. Telling and showing Karma how much he loved her wasn’t the problem. The problem was in getting out of his own way long enough to do what needed to be done to cement their future.
Chapter 18
Never give up on something you really want. It's difficult to wait, but more difficult to regret.
-Xuan Ta
“Knock-knock.”
Karma jumped and nearly dropped the picture of a young Mark holding a basketball she’d been looking at. She turned to find Giada standing in the doorway.
His mom smiled warmly and glanced down at the two small plates she held in her hands. “I brought you a piece of cake.”
She’d been caught prowling through the house like a sneaky thief.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“I see you found Marcus’s room.” She entered and extended one of the plates and a gold fork toward her as if she found nothing whatsoever amiss of Karma’s secret snooping.
Karma set down Mark’s picture and took the plate. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I was just looking for a quiet place to think.”
“You mean a quiet place to get away from those stuck-up high-society girls, don’t you, dear?” Giada slipped a small piece of her own cake into her mouth as if she were eating a bite of caviar.
Karma’s face heated as she stammered for a proper response. Had she insulted Mark’s mom without realizing it? “No, I . . . it’s just that—”
Giada bumped arms with her, smiling. “I needed to get away from them, too.” She dabbed a cocktail napkin on her lips. “These parties can be so tedious.”
“But it’s your birthday party.”
Giada scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, but if I don’t invite everyone—including those I’d rather not—I would never hear the end of it.” She gestured for Karma to join her as she sat on the edge of Mark’s childhood bed. “It’s one of the compromises I’ve had to make to live the life I do.”
It sounded like there was a lesson in there somewhere.
“I put up with those people because I have to.” Giada waved her fingers dismissively toward the door. “But they’re such bores. Not like you.” She wrapped her free arm around Karma’s and squeezed like they were best friends who’d run off to tell each other secrets. Then she pulled away and picked up her fork again. “Have some cake, dear. Let’s eat my birthday cake and talk about you and Marcus and how wonderful it is you two are together.”
She stabbed off a piece of cake. “You’re really happy he’s engaged, aren’t you?”
Giada’s eyes danced as her entire face lit up. “Ecstatic.”
The orange flavor of the confection exploded over her taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible.”
“I know.” Giada winked and took another bite. “I love orange cake, so I hired this fabulous pastry chef who makes the tastiest treats to make my birthday cake. He trained in France and is the best baker in Chicago. If only you lived here, we could hire him to bake your wedding cake.” She took another bite then waved her fork back and forth. “But don’t worry. I’ll ask him to recommend someone in Indianapolis.”
“But we don’t even know when the wedding will be, yet.”
“Yes, but you will.” She patted Karma’s leg reassuringly.
Karma took a few more bites of her cake, glancing around the room at all the pictures, trophies, and trinkets lining the shelves. There was one of Mark with a woman who had blond hair. He looked a bit older than he’d been in the basketball picture. Still young, though. Eyes not as wise . . . or jaded. Happy.
“When was that picture taken?”
Giada followed her gaze then pursed her lips as she glanced away. “About nine years ago.”
Karma stood and set down her plate, inspecting the picture more closely. “Is this Carol?”
Giada stood and placed her plate next to Karma’s on the desk. “Yes,” she said so softly she was barely audible. “You know about Caroline?” Was that disappointment in her voice?
Karma nodded. “What can you tell me about her?”
Maybe if she learned something about Carol, she could figure out how to break her spell
on Mark. Unlikely, but right now, anything was worth a shot.
“Well . . . Caroline was the daughter I never had,” Giada said wistfully. But a note of distress fell over her words. “She still is, despite what happened.”
Karma wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. How do you think of the woman who jilted your son as a daughter?
Her confusion must have shown, because Giada offered her a patient smile and patted her hand. “She was an orphan, dear.”
Ooohhh.
Giada glanced away as if staring into the past. “Her mother died when she was four. Then her father passed away five years later. Only nine years old, and she’d lost both her parents.”
“Oh my God.” Karma looked back toward the picture of Carol and Mark on the shelf. She was finally beginning to understand Carol a little bit better, even if this wasn’t what she’d expected.
Giada guided her toward the couch. “She ended up moving to Milwaukee to live with an aunt,” Giada said as they settled on the leather cushions. “But she’d been very close to her father, especially after her mom died. She missed him terribly and fell into an awful depression after his death, from what her aunt told us. So, understandably, she started seeing a therapist twice a week to help her sort out her feelings and adjust to her new circumstances.”
Giada dipped her head to one side. “I guess she mentioned a few times in her sessions that she enjoyed dancing, which gave her therapist the idea to try classes as a means to give Caroline focus again. So her aunt signed her up for lessons.” Giada smiled. “And to hear her aunt tell it, she was a natural, taking to the Latin ballroom dances instantly.”
Giada sighed, and fond recollection filled her eyes. “Her aunt told me dance gave Caroline purpose again, and she worked hard to earn money to take more lessons. She cut the neighbors’ lawns in the summer, shoveled snow in the winter, sold lemonade, washed cars, worked in horrible fast-food restaurants.” Giada let out a soft laugh. “Every cent went toward dance lessons.
“And she was good. What Adler and I call a natural talent. We discovered her at a junior competition when she was sixteen. Just a sophomore in high school, and already a star. She ended up winning that competition, and Adler and I introduced ourselves. We wanted her to come and dance for us after high school. We already knew she would make a valuable addition to our company, and we knew we could make her even better.”