by Leger, Lori
“What the hell?” Her foot tangled in the sheet and sent her tumbling to the floor, only half-freed from the multiple bed coverings.
The door flew open and Sam stood there, his face a road map of concern until he saw the tangled mess hanging off the bed. “Hey, Babe. Looks like you’re going’ nowhere fast.”
“Dammit!” She raised one arm toward him as her head fell forward. “Help me.” It was more of a command than a request.
His laughter reached her before he did. “I will, as soon as I figure out where the quilts end and you begin.” He reached under her arms and hauled her up off the floor.
Carrie stood cautiously, assuring herself there was something solid under her feet before stepping free from the tangle. “Where’d you get the blankets?”
“Two other beds and a futon.”
She looked up, still trying to adjust to the brightly lit room, and noticed his sunbeam of a smile. “Don’t laugh at me. I can’t take it right now.”
“I’m not laughing,” he confessed. “Even with puffy eyes, rumpled clothes, and wild hair, I know I’ve never loved you more than I do right now.”
She sniffed. “Thanks for not saying I’m still beautiful.”
“Did you want me to lie?”
“If you did, I may have to shoot you. What time is it?”
“Almost eleven.”
“Half the day’s gone,” she groaned, and froze when she heard the distinctive wall-knocking sound again. “That!” She pointed to a spot on the exterior wall of her bedroom. “What is that knocking?”
“It’s your dog. He’s happy.”
She pictured that big tail of his wagging, knocking on the wall. “Oh. I get it now.” She stumbled to the bathroom to survey the damage to her face.
Carrie groaned at her reflection. She splashed cold water on her face, ran a brush through her hair, and started brushing her teeth. “Wait!” She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “Why’s Lucas so happy?”
“His kids are here. Didn’t you hear them outside?”
She rinsed her mouth, gave Sam a quick kiss, and rushed out through the front door, suddenly desperate to see them.
Carrie called for her kids and they came running. She pulled them close, needing the contact of her babies, even if they weren’t babies anymore. Then she hugged each one separately as her silent tears fell. About that time, Lucas barreled through his kids to get to Carrie. She hugged the dog, praising him for his courage, as he wagged that huge tail hard enough to hurt whomever it contacted. They made their way into the warmth of the house. Carrie stopped to wave at Sam, as he stood on his own steps. He raised his hand slowly, and she blew him a kiss before closing her door.
Carrie turned to her kids. “God, I’m glad to see y’all.”
Grant leaned forward on the couch. “Was it dangerous, Mom?”
She wondered how much he knew. “Did Sam tell you what happened?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you know that I was never in any danger.”
“Something could have gone wrong.”
“But it didn’t, and Tim Hardin isn’t a threat anymore.” She sat across from the couch where she could see all three of them. “Maybe now I can start to enjoy this place.”
Gretchen spoke first. “I can never live here, Mom.”
Her daughter’s words had her bolting upright. “Gretch, nobody’s asking you to make a decision now.”
“I don’t want to stay here, either,” Lauren added.
Carrie’s breath hitched as she tried to come up with compromises. “You could all finish your school years in Gardiner. Girls, you could start your sophomore years in Kenton. And Grant, I’m still convinced you should graduate from here.”
Grant shook his head but kept his silence.
Carrie sighed and turned to Lauren. “By next year you—”
“I don’t ever want to see this place again.”
“I don’t ever want to see this town again,” Gretchen added.
“Do you understand that Officer Hardin lived in Gardiner, and that he was the one making the phone calls?”
This time Grant spoke up. “We don’t care, Mom. Toto was killed here. That guy tried to get to you here.”
“Sometimes things happen that we can’t contr—”
“Don’t you think this place has, like, bad mojo or something?”
Carrie stared at Gretchen, felt a miniscule crack in the foundation of her brave, new, independent world. “Bad mojo?”
“Toto died here. I can’t live here,” Lauren tag teamed with her sister.
Carrie refused to give in. “We’ve had pets die in our home before. Heck, we had two die in one day, but we stayed, because it was our home.”
Lauren stood suddenly. “But they weren’t murdered!” Her large brown eyes pooled with tears. “That man murdered Toto! Our dog died right there, on the back porch.”
Gretchen pointed to the street. “And then that man died, right there in the street. In front of the house.”
Carrie’s heart pounded, trying to pump blood back into the half of her body that felt drained. “This is my life, girls. This is my future. Our future. Someplace better for me.”
Lauren shook her head. “Different doesn’t mean better, Mom.”
“And even if it’s better for you, that doesn’t mean it’s better for us,” Gretchen added.
“I have legal guardianship of the both of you.” Carrie resorted to her big gun. “You will live with me. End. Of. Story.”
Gretchen’s chin lifted. “Dad said we can choose, because we’re old enough now, and we all choose Gardiner.”
Lauren’s eyes welled with tears. “You promised me. You said if things didn’t work out, you’d stop seeing Mr. Sam.”
Carrie felt the color drain from her face, imagined the small crack in the foundation widening. “This is not a matter of things not working out with Sam. He was with me through all of this. He never let me down. You three like Sam, as well as Nick and Amanda and Joe. Don’t try to tell me you don’t.”
Tears slid down Lauren’s cheeks. “I believed you when you said you wouldn’t choose your boyfriend over us. I should have known better.”
“Lauren—”
Grant shifted his stance. “Mom, if you hadn’t moved here, Toto might still be alive.”
“He would be alive,” Gretchen finished for him.
Carrie collapsed into the nearest chair as Lauren’s quiet sobs filled the space. The crack opened fully, engulfing everything in its path until any future with Sam crumbled into dust. She let her head fall back against her shoulders and pressed the heel of her hands to both eyes. She couldn’t find the words to argue her children’s theory. How could she blame them for feeling this way, when everything they said was true?
She stood, walked to the back porch, realizing she’d never be able to see it without seeing Toto’s dead body lying there. It had been torture to leave Lucas there the previous night. He’d sniffed the floor where Toto had died and gazed up at her with those sad eyes, almost as if he’d known. At the time, it had felt as though he blamed her for Toto’s death.
Now she knew her kids did, too.
She turned back, her eyes pleading, and made one last ditch effort to change their minds. “Please, kids. This is so important. I’m begging you to give this a chance.”
The teenagers exchanged looks before facing her, shaking their heads.
Carrie took a deep shaky breath and released it. She ran her hands through her hair, suddenly resigned to the fact that no matter what she did, she’d have to do it alone. “All right, then. No more Kenton. No more Sam.” She suddenly felt much older, and a lot less independent. “Pack your things. Everything you’ll need for the weekend. We’re going back to Gardiner tonight.” She walked to the front door, reached for the handle and paused, filled with anger. Anger at the situation, at them, at herself for falling for Sam when her life was one, big question mark. Anger was good. Anger would help he
r get through the next five minutes.
“Make damn sure your stuff’s packed by the time I get back. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Where are you goi—” Lauren began.
“Shut up, dumb ass!” Grant’s hiss cut off his sister’s question.
Carrie tensed and threw open the door, stared out toward Sam standing on his porch—waiting for her. “Whatever’s not in the car or truck by the time I get back will stay here until everything else gets moved.” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Sam’s stomach tightened, knotting with tension at Carrie’s approach, knowing damn well he wouldn’t like what she had to say. She walked up the sidewalk, determined in her purpose, her jaw tight with anger and hurt. “Ah hell, here it comes,” he murmured softly to himself.
She marched up his steps and stopped in front of him. “We have to talk.”
He nodded, reaching for her shoulder. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”
“No.” She pulled away, avoiding his touch.
“Carrie—”
“I’m moving back to Gardiner.”
“Talk to me.”
“They don’t want anything to do with this place, Sam. Not the house, or the school, or the town or—” She faltered suddenly but caught her stride again as she finished, her tone hard and cold. “Or anyone in it.”
He wasn’t surprised, especially after speaking to her kids when they’d first arrived. He didn’t like it, but at least he’d had time to think of alternative methods of keeping their relationship intact. “Babe.” He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. “It’ll be okay. I’d rather have you here, but I understand. At least we’ll see each other every day at work. We’ll survive until the weekends get here.”
“I made them a promise, Sam. If things didn’t work out between us—all of us—I’d walk away.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Carrie. It’s only an hour drive. I’ll take it.”
“No, Sam.”
He paused when he caught her meaning. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying … I … I can’t choose you over my children. It’s over.”
His breath rushed out at the two words capable of blowing his world apart. He’d been through this before, and damned if he wasn’t going through it again. “You can’t be serious.” He nearly laughed at the lameness of his reaction, knowing she was dead serious.
“I am. And if you were in my shoes, you’d do the same thing, you know you would.”
“I would stop to consider what I’d be giving up, I can promise you that.” His shock morphed into indignation, then fury—fury that deflated when he saw the tremble of her chin.
“You don’t think I know what I’m giving up?” She turned her gaze on him. “I’m giving up everything. I’ve done it once before for my kids, and I guess I’ll have to do it again. It’ll hurt like hell, but we’ve both been through worse than this and lived through it. I am sorry. I don’t want to do this.” She covered her mouth with her hand, before attempting to turn away from him.
Sam caught her by the arm and turned her back to face him. “Then don’t, Carrie. Come on, Baby.”
“Sam, stop it.” Her gaze dropped to the floor as she pushed away from him, her hands fisted and unyielding. She stopped then, opened her hands as she raised her gaze to meet his, and then placed one hand on his face. “If you had to choose between me and your children, you would choose your children, don’t tell me you wouldn’t.”
He caught her hand in both of his. “It doesn’t sound much like a choice. It sounds like an ultimatum, bordering on blackmail.”
“Maybe it is, but my children’s feelings are no less important than ours. I have to go, Sam.” She pulled her hand free and turned away from him.
“Carrie, please don’t do this.”
Ignoring his tortured plea she walked-ran back to her place before she changed her mind. Throwing the door open, she barked at her children. “Girls, get in my car. Grant! I want Lucas riding inside the truck cab with you.”
“He’s gonna smell up my truck.”
“Too bad. His leg’s hurt and he won’t be able to keep his balance back there.” She stopped in front of her girls. “Didn’t I tell you two to get in the car?”
“I need my—”
“Now!” She pointed to the doorway.
As her kids scrambled to the door, Carrie rushed to her bedroom closet. She threw two pair of jeans and some blouses in a shoulder tote, along with her makeup kit and a few other items. Hoping to avoid a confrontation with Sam, she locked up and jumped inside her car.
“Can we ride with Grant while Lucas rides with you?”
Not bothering to look at the twin who’d asked the insensitive question, she ground out a reply through clenched teeth. “Sit your butts down and buckle up.”
Carrie drove in silence, gripping the steering wheel so hard her hands turned numb. Every mile that took her further from Sam made the gnawing pain in her chest grow worse. Every minute away from him weakened her resolve not to cry. By the time she pulled into Dave’s driveway, her heart ached, knowing how badly she’d left Sam hurting.
She pulled the trunk latch and got out to help her girls with luggage, only to find it empty. Remembering how she’d rushed them, she turned to the twins. They stood with their magenta and pink duffle bags, looking hesitant.
“I guess that’s all you had time to pack. Sorry, but I had to get out of there.”
“Mom—”
“Love you.” She embraced Gretchen as she cut her off. She released her and pulled Lauren close for the same kind of hug. “Love you, too.”
Carrie walked over to meet Grant, who’d pulled up seconds after her. “Love you, Son.” Her voice tight with the need to cry, she hugged him also.
“Mom—”
She raised her hand to shush him and turned to give Lucas a grateful scratch behind the ears. “Good boy.” She turned toward her still running car. “Be sure and tell your dad I said thanks, and that Lucas will be fine in a few days.”
She peeled out onto the roadway, suspecting her kids watched her leave. They wouldn’t understand how badly she didn’t want to cry in front of them. She didn’t want them to see how much their rejection of Sam hurt her.
Sam awoke to the ringing telephone. A double dose of nighttime pain reliever had cured his headache, but hadn’t done a thing for the hollow ache in his chest. He’d slept fitfully, dreaming and waking several times during the night. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, willing the damn ringing to stop. The only person he cared to talk to wouldn’t be calling him. She’d been ignoring his calls for over twenty-four hours.
The ringing quit and Nick pushed through his bedroom door. Sam lifted his head from the pillow. “If it’s not Carrie, I’m not here.”
Nick’s eyes widened as he shoved the phone at his father. “I’m not telling her that. It’s Carrie’s Mom.”
Sam sat up and reached for the phone. “Ms. Elaine?”
“Well, thank God somebody is answering their phone. Carrie sure won’t. Is it out of service again?” Elaine sounded more annoyed than frantic.
“No, ma’am, it’s working. She’s not there.”
A moment of quiet preceded her next comment. “Look, Sam, I know my daughter is all grown up, but if your intentions toward her aren’t honorable, I may have to go slap you around a little.”
Sam frowned, confused until her meaning dawned on him. “She’s not here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“She’s not?”
“No, ma’am. I expect she’s back at her sister’s place.”
Another pause before she spoke again. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Not a thing, ma’am, and you’ll have to talk to her to find out why. This wasn’t my choice. If I read her right, she wasn’t thrilled about it, either.”
“Well, dammit. Now I’m really confused.”
“Yes, ma’am, I imagine you are. All I can tell you is th
at shortly after her kids’ arrival yesterday morning she walked over and broke it off. She said something about a promise she made them. The whole bunch of them left town before I could collect my thoughts and ask her to reconsider.”
“Did you say a promise? What promise?”
Sam passed a hand over sleep-crusted eyes. “Like I said, you’ll have to ask her.”
“I’ll do that. Are you all right?”
“Far from it, Ms. Elaine, but I’ll live.” He waited through her long pause.
“Well, you keep the faith, Sam.”
“I’ll try, Ms. Elaine, but …” He paused to swallow the catch in his voice. “I’ll try,” he repeated, before ending the call.
Elaine hit the button and dialed Christie’s number.
“Ha-wo.”
“Hey Max, my good boy. It’s Maw Maw.”
Max yelled for Christie. “Mom, it’th Maw Maw Lain!”
“Maxie, is Aunt Carrie at your house?”
“Aunt Cawee thwept in my bed.”
“She did? Is she still sleeping?”
“Yeah. She—she cwied.”
“Uh huh,” Elaine said. Within a few seconds, Max handed the phone to Christie.
“Mom?”
“What’s going on with Carrie? Sam said she broke it off because of some promise she made the kids.”
“Christ, is that what happened? I haven’t been able to get a word out of her about why. She goes to work, but when she comes in, she goes straight to the bedroom and cries. All she said was that it was all her fault and she should have known better.”
“Oh my goodness, Sam’s as upset about this as she is.”
“I figured as much, but this is out of our hands, Mom.”
Carrie’s New Year’s Eve held all the excitement and promise of a yearly physical, with a pap smear thrown in for kicks. She and Christie spent the evening with Dick Clark, watching the ball drop, along with millions of other Americans. They’d splurged on a bottle of cheap wine and a quart of Blue Bell Heavenly Hash ice cream, and although Carrie drank her share of the wine, she was too depressed to eat any ice cream. She seriously missed talking to Sam, but couldn’t decide what was worse; not seeing him or seeing him. By the time she met her ride to work in early January, she’d dropped ten pounds and couldn’t seem to get more than a few hours of sleep a night.