Falling Angel

  “You’re right. There are some definite upsides to getting enmeshed.”

  Cara looked at him in astonishment. Ben, too, appeared disconcerted by his own remark. He stepped backwards from the car, giving her a half-wave and a sheepish grin.

  Cara was amazed. Could noncommittal Ben have just referred to the two of them as enmeshed? Looking at him, a feeling akin to homesickness flooded her body. She didn’t want to leave him. She would have liked nothing more than to play hooky and take off with Ben for the rest of the day. “Want to do something later this week?” she asked, surprised at her own boldness.

  “Sure. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Ben said.

  . . .

  Ann was already ensconced on the couch when Cara got home that evening.

  “Hey there, social butterfly,” she said with a smirk.

  Fighting her exhaustion, Cara smiled pleasantly. “Hey Ann.”

  Pulling her hair from its pony tail, Cara kicked off her shoes and sank onto the couch with a sigh.

  “Out late last night?” Ann queried.

  “We missed the ferry by about five minutes and had to wait for the next one.” She closed her eyes. “To tell you the truth, I’m beat.”

  “I don’t know how you have the energy to juggle men the way you do.”

  Cara opened her eyes and looked at Ann. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your date tonight, silly.”

  Cara was irritated by Ann’s smug tone. “I don’t have any plans tonight other than to cook some pasta, have a hot bath and go to bed.”

  “Whatever you say,” Ann smirked.

  The door buzzer sounded loudly. The two women stared at each other.

  Ann grinned knowingly. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  “Fine,” Cara snapped, getting to her feet.

  She activated the downstairs door release and pulled the door to the apartment ajar. Ann took up a position in front of the door, and Cara sat in a kitchen chair nearby. They listened in silence to the tramp of feet up the stairs. A moment later, a well-groomed head appeared in the doorway.

  “You must be Ann,” David said pleasantly, holding out his hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” Ann shook his hand, turning with a triumphant look to Cara. “Look who’s here for you!”

  David turned to Cara.

  “Sorry I’m late. Something unexpected came up at work. I guess Ann gave you the message?”

  Suddenly, the events of their previous date flooded back. Cara remembered her promise to go out with David to use his free meal certificate on Monday night, a promise she had forgotten in the flurry of dealing with the dead car battery, seeing Ben again, and riding the roller coaster of intense emotions and experiences of the past 48 hours.

  “Hi, David,” she said faintly.

  He took in her rumpled appearance and pursed his lips. “Do you need a few minutes to freshen up?”

  Grateful for the momentary reprieve, Cara jumped up. “Yes! I’ll be right back.”

  Retreating down the hall to the relative privacy of the bathroom, she heard Ann saying brightly, “Can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?” as though she’d morphed into a 1950s hostess at cocktail hour.

  At least Cara understood now why she’d been smirking and making stupid remarks. This whole situation must have delighted her to the core.

  The sound of Ann’s laughter floated through the half-open bathroom door, and Cara felt ashamed of herself for thinking such uncharitable thoughts about her roommate and friend. How could Ann know that David was the last person she wanted to see right now?

  Pulling a brush from the drawer, she ran it through her hair. Her curls, unusually unruly tonight, formed a blonde halo around her face.

  Even the knowledge that David was in the apartment made her feel guilty, as though she were somehow going behind Ben’s back. Which was truly a ridiculous notion. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. It isn’t as though she and Ben had promised to date each other monogamously. This was romance in the modern world, post-ritual and post-rules. If Ben knew what a quandary she was in over this quasi-date with David, he would probably start teasing her mercilessly again. She thought of the way his green eyes crinkled when he laughed. Thought about telling him about it later. She could just imagine what Ben would think of David, with his corporate climbing, sharp suits and country club aspirations. “He’s a perfect match for you,” he’d say with a hint of sarcasm. “Your knight in shining armor. Go for it, girl.”

  Cara inspected her face critically in the mirror. Smudges of fatigue were visible under her eyes and her cheeks were drained of color. She applied foundation and blush to bring a glow to her pale face and hide the dark circles under her eyes. Using a dark brown pencil, she outlined her eyelids, and then applied mascara. A touch of lip gloss and she was done.

  In her room she changed quickly into a fresh white shirt and a denim skirt that ended just above the knee. She grabbed her jacket from the closet and put on a pair of brown leather boots. From her jewelry box, she took out her favorite ring; a turquoise set in a platinum band, and slid it onto her ring finger.

  At the door to her room she paused.

  Maybe she should cancel their dinner; tell him she had a headache. Why drag things out, when she really wasn’t that into him?

  But David was already out there, waiting for her. It would be rude to back out now. Besides, it wasn’t really a date. David had merely asked her to join him for a free meal.

  Part of her wanted to go out with him again, to do a thorough ‘compare and contrast’ in her head. To determine whether to pursue a relationship with David, who met all her dating criteria, or get further involved with a man who was the antithesis of all she had claimed was important.

  Cara’s eyes turned again to the statue of the flying woman by her bed. What an apt metaphor for my life, she thought; constantly torn between taking a risk and playing it safe. How amazing that Ben was able to see through me so easily after just one encounter. But did the sculpture also serve as a warning that her involvement with Ben Kilpatrick was akin to flying too close to the sun? Was she going to get burned?

  Chapter Sixteen

  David drove them to the restaurant in his car, a shiny silver BMW 325Ci convertible with luxurious leather seats. The evening was fairly warm, and he kept the hood down as they purred through the evening traffic.

  “It’s my present to myself,” he said. “184 horsepower, 6 cylinder, 2.5 liter engine with rear wheel drive and an optional 5-speed manual transmission. Pretty sweet, huh?”

  “It’s very nice,” Cara said. “I only wish I’d brought a headscarf and some oversize sunglasses. You could put the top down and I could look like a glamorous movie star.”

  David laughed. “You’re funny. Actually, the car’s an early graduation present to myself, for getting through the MBA program. I figure owning a luxury vehicle will whet my appetite, give me a taste of things to come, you know?”

  “You must be doing pretty well for yourself already, to afford this.”

  David was silent for a minute before confessing, a bit defensively, “My parents helped out a bit. They’re very supportive of my career.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Cara said, hoping she hadn’t offended him.

  She thought about Ben at the wheel of his beat-up old Ford pickup, extolling the virtues of the utility vehicle and its rugged endurance. What would he think about luxury vehicles whetting a person’s appetite for material things? He’d probably consider David some kind of capitalist fat cat, out to exploit the masses. She wondered briefly about Ben’s political affiliation; she’d never thought to ask him. If she had to guess, though, she’d guess liberal, left-wing. Perhaps he was even a Socialist, she thought with a thrill of excitement. Given Ben’s Bohemian lifestyle and his time spent in France, she wouldn’t be surprised. Cara smiled secretly to herself. She’d never gone out with a bona fide Socialist before. In fact, the whole idea smacked of something slightly illicit,
like smoking in the girls’ bathroom, or getting a tattoo. The kind of things that Cara Walker had never done, and would never dream of doing. David, on the other hand, was most likely a staunch Republican, given his choice of career, the fact he considered Donald Trump a personal mentor, and his addiction to the nightly financial report on Fox TV. She smiled to herself at the contrast between them. She probably couldn’t have found two people more diametrically opposed to date had she tried.

  At the restaurant, David took her arm in a proprietary manner as the maitre d’ led them to their seats. They sat at a small table, placed prominently before the plate glass windows that looked out onto 4th Avenue.

  “That’s one thing I like about going out to eat on a Monday,” David said. “The restaurant is usually half empty and the service is good.”

  “And you get the best seating!” Cara exclaimed. “I love people-watching.”

  David looked at her. “There are some people I enjoy watching more than others.”

  Cara blushed.

  “You cleaned up nicely. I like the way you dress, very modest. Not like most women these days.”

  “I guess I’m kind of old-fashioned in my tastes,” Cara said. “For myself at least,” she amended. “I don’t mind what other people wear.”

  “Apparently not, or you wouldn’t be sharing an apartment with Ann. Was that a kilt she had on tonight, or a plaid blanket?”

  In spite of herself, Cara giggled.

  “And those piercings!” David snorted and rolled his eyes. “That girl must set off every metal detector in town.”

  “Ann has her own sense of style. She likes to be provocative, get a rise out of people.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Cara took a sip of her water. “Ann thrives on drama. Some people are like that.”

  “Not you, though.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Cara said. “I think perhaps because I’m not like that, I’m drawn to people who are. I find them . . . interesting.”

  The waiter appeared, and David ordered two martinis and crab cakes as an appetizer.

  Cara’s stomach turned. She hadn’t had a martini since an unfortunate night in college, which had ended with her puking her guts out in a bush. “I don’t really drink hard liquor,” she said. The waiter hovered uncertainly, but David waved him away.

  “Tonight we’re celebrating,” he said. “I met with my boss today, and he confirmed what I’d been hoping for. As soon as I graduate from the MBA program, I’m getting promoted to branch manager.”

  “Congratulations! What good news.”

  The drinks arrived, and he held up his glass. “Cheers.”

  “To your promotion.”

  They toasted, and Cara forced herself to take a sip of her drink.

  Putting down his glass, David smiled broadly. He leaned forward and covered her hand with his. “Seriously, though, it’s amazing how everything in my life seems to be falling into place.”

  Cara smiled. David was a cocky guy, but he could be sweet, too.

  She excused herself before the main course arrived to reapply her lip gloss and wash her hands.

  As she resumed her seat, a young woman came over to their table.

  “Excuse me. I think you left this in the bathroom.” She held out Cara’s turquoise ring.

  “Oh my gosh!” said Cara. “I took it off to wash my hands and totally forgot about it. Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would have done if it had been lost.”

  “No problem. I’m glad I could help.” The girl gave them a little wave and returned to her table.

  “Let me see,” said David, holding out his hand. She passed the ring to him. He turned it over and read the engraving on the inside of the band. “Angel Face? Is that you?”

  Cara laughed at the look of consternation on his face. “Don’t worry; it’s not from some old boyfriend. It was a gift from my dad. One of the few things I have from him.”

  “Give me your hand.” Cara held it out self-consciously as he slipped the ring back onto her finger. “It’s beautiful. Maybe one day I’ll be able to buy you jewelry.”

  “David, please.” Cara looked down, embarrassed. “We don’t even know each other that well.”

  “That’s something I hope to change,” he said. “I’m a good judge of character. Even though we’ve only gone out a couple of times, I feel like I know you pretty well already.”

  The main course arrived, a steak with mashed potatoes for David and shrimp skewers with stir-fried vegetables and rice for Cara.

  David dug into his meal with relish, but Cara had little appetite.

  What would David think of her if he knew that this time yesterday she had been kissing and cuddling another man on the beach? Or that only hours before their dinner, she had eaten lunch with a certain handsome artist? What would that visual do to his perception of Cara as a sweet, old-fashioned, innocent girl?

  She picked at her meal as David ordered another round of martinis. Cara protested, but he waved her arguments away.

  “Live a little,” he said. “I know they’re not covered by the gift certificate, but don’t worry, it’s all on me.”

  Cara decided that David was right. She needed to loosen up.

  To entertain him, she started to tell the story of her experiences at work that day, the lead singer with no voice and the confiscated wedding veil material. “This bride is a total fruitcake,” she said, embellishing the story a little for David’s amusement. “She practically accused me of hijacking the container ship myself. I’m just waiting for the caterer to drop the cake en route to the table, or the groom to run off at the last minute. It’s gearing up to be that kind of a wedding. And of course it will probably pour with rain the whole time. At least we’ve ordered canopies and tents as a backup. Not to mention 75 oversize umbrellas, in white.”

  David finished a mouthful of steak and put down his knife. “Crazy,” he agreed, raising his eyebrows. “Hey, how’d you like to go out on the Sound with me this weekend? One of my friends is taking his yacht out Sunday morning. We’ll sail to Blake Island and spend the day there. There’s swimming and fishing, even a latte stand. No cars, it’s very peaceful. I’m giving up my golf game for the day. I’m sure he won’t mind if I bring you along.”

  Cara’s mind raced. She had planned to spend her only day off this weekend with Ben, although no formal plans had been made. “I’m going to be wiped out Sunday, after the wedding. I don’t think I’ll be up to it.”

  “A pity. I was looking forward to showing you off to my friends. What about Saturday night, after the wedding? We could grab dinner, or dessert?”

  Cara didn’t know how to turn him down again without sounding rude. “Maybe,” she said at last. “Though I don’t think I’ll be much fun.”

  David looked past her, out the window. “That was weird.”

  She put down her fork and leaned forward inquiringly. “What was?”

  “That guy, outside the window.”

  Cara turned to look, but the street was empty.

  “He was staring at you with this intense look on his face.”

  “What kind of a look?”

  “I don’t know. Angry.”

  “Great.” Cara attempted a laugh, even as a chill ran down her spine. “Now I’ve got some psycho stalking me.”

  “There are a lot of crazy people out there,” David said. “That’s why you should never go out alone at night downtown. Speaking of which, whatever happened with your car last week?”

  “Oh, I took care of it,” Cara replied breezily. “A friend drove me down and we got it jump-started.” She felt a pang of guilt at not mentioning Ben’s name, or the fact that he was significantly more than a friend.

  “I wanted to apologize for not coming back and helping you out,” David said. “I should have.”

  “That’s okay. I know how addicted you are to your financial show.”

  “You’re more important than a stupid TV program.” He finished his steak a
nd sighed with satisfaction. “That was great. Are you up for dessert?”

  “Sure.” Cara pasted a smile on her face. “You pick.” As David looked over the menu, Cara glanced sideways out the window, half-expecting a wild-haired man to be staring in at her with dark malevolent eyes. She’d thought that sitting by the huge glass window would give her a great view of what was happening outside. Instead, she now felt vulnerable and exposed, as though she were a rabbit in the middle of a meadow with a wolf lurking nearby, under cover of the trees.

  . . .

  It was almost nine by the time they left the restaurant. As they drove up Madison Street, the broad expanse of Lake Washington came into view, its placid waters mirroring the dark sky.

  To Cara’s surprise, David drove a couple of blocks past her apartment to where the street ended abruptly at the edge of the lake. A small wooden pier jutted out into the water. To the right, beyond a grove of evergreens, an expanse of grass sloped down to a crescent of sandy beach. It was a popular spot for sunbathing and fishing in the summertime.

  David parked the car to face the water and turned expectantly toward Cara.

  His arms went awkwardly around her as his mouth sought hers. Cara turned in her seat and allowed him to kiss her, but pulled away after a moment, brushing her hair back from her face and adjusting her earring with a trembling hand.

  “I’m sorry, David. I’ve had a tiring day. Do you mind taking me home?”

  David released her. “I’m not going to push you,” he said in a level voice. “But I want you to know that I really like you, Cara. I hope you feel the same way about me.”

  Tell him! Cara’s internal voice urged her. Tell him that you’re seeing someone else. That although he’s a perfectly nice guy, he doesn’t thrill you to the core the way that Ben does.

  “I like you too,” she said instead. Coward, the voice hissed.

  David smiled, oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm. He dropped her off outside her apartment with promises to call about Saturday evening.

  The night was cool and foggy and a fine mist settled on Cara’s arms like dew as she stood by her front door. An elderly couple emerged from the Red Radish, the man carrying a plastic bag of groceries. The woman was hunched over almost double. She walked with a cane and held on to the man’s arm for support as they gingerly made their way across the street toward the retirement high-rise a couple of blocks away. Cara heard the low murmur of their voices, and the woman’s sudden laugh, ringing out in the night air, sounding surprisingly young and joyful.