Unsuitable Page 7

“Yes, of course.”

  “Drive carefully,” he said, as he opened her door and she got in. “There will probably be tree limbs and other debris in the streets.”

  “I will,” she answered.

  She started the motor, and as she reached for the shift he tapped on her window. She lowered it.

  He leaned in through the opening, folding his arms on the jamb. “About last night,” he began, his voice controlled. “I know my behavior was inexcusable but I hope you will excuse it, for Johnny’s sake if not for mine.”

  Carrie’s heart went out to him. This was clearly the last subject in the universe that he wanted to discuss. But he was too much of a gentleman to let her go without apologizing again for something which must be a source of humiliation for him. His body language was expressive: fists clenched on the windowsill, his broad shoulders straight and stiff, his mouth hard and unsmiling. She wanted to open his hands, press a kiss into the palm of each one, and tell him that she would forgive him anything.

  “It’s all right,” she said evenly, meeting his haunted gaze and then looking away. “No harm done. Goodbye, Mr. McClain.”

  As soon as she said it she realized how ridiculous the formal address must have sounded.

  “I think,” he said dryly, “in light of recent events, you might as well call me Jason.”

  “Goodbye, Jason,” she amended, feeling the heat come up under her skin. She put the car in gear and drove away.

  * * * *

  The trip back to her apartment was slow. While the roads were fairly clear they were still muddy and partially flooded. She spent a lot of time steering around marshy patches and large puddles until she reached the highway. Then it was a straight shot through to her house, where she arrived at about eight. She didn’t have to be at work until nine and she was deciding what to change into as she unlocked her door. Then she halted, her heart jumping. There was an opened suitcase on the hall floor and a figure wrapped in a blanket on the living room couch.

  “Well,” it said, sitting up at her entrance, “where the hell were you?”

  Chapter 5

  Gloria,” Carrie said, expelling her breath in relief. “What are you doing here?”

  Gloria stood up, shrouding herself in the blanket like a Roman senator and walking toward Carrie. “I asked first,” she answered, peering through her curtain of lush blonde hair at the wrinkled clothes Carrie revealed when she took off her coat.

  “Not now,” Carrie said, sighing. “I have to be at work in one hour. I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

  “Looks like our Juliet has not been to bed this night,” Gloria chirped wisely.

  “And the sweeter rest was not mine,” Carrie replied wearily. “How long are you staying? And by the way, how did you get in?”

  “I’m staying long enough to worm the truth out of you, that’s for sure,” Gloria said firmly, readjusting her makeshift toga. “And as for the second question, that Cerberus stationed in the guardhouse took pity on me, which from the look of him I didn’t think was possible. Where did you find him anyway, central casting? I mean, the man has a cauliflower ear. But I digress. I arrived in the middle of that monsoon last night, which was not predicted—I do listen to newscasts—and of course you weren’t home. I explained, rather patiently I thought, that we were old and fast friends, practically shared the same cradle. I asked if he couldn’t be a dear and let me in to wait for you. Little did I know how long the wait would be. He’s a hard sell, that one. I had to show him that picture of us taken last Christmas and a letter you had written to me which, thank God, I happened to have in my purse. Otherwise I would have spent the night trudging around in the rain like an army recruit. I ask you, Carrie, do I really look like a burglar?”

  “He’s paid to be careful,” Carrie replied, when Gloria ran out of steam. “It’s one of the fringe benefits of living here. I have the same security as the people at the main house.”

  “Security is one thing; paranoia is another,” Gloria said huffily. “That creature could snap my spine with a twitch of his wrist. Did he think I was going to walk off with the silver with him salivating twenty feet away in his little cabin?”

  “There is no silver to walk off with around here, as you very well know,” Carrie answered. “Why didn’t you call me and tell me you were coming?”

  “I did call. There was no answer.”

  “I mean in advance,” Carrie said, exasperated, unbuttoning her blouse. “I would have told Rolf to look for you.”

  “Rolf!” Gloria piped, clapping her hands. “His name is Rolf. I love it.”

  “Gloria,” Carrie said patiently, stepping out of her skirt.

  Gloria made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, they canceled the New York appearance at the last minute and bumped up the date for Hartford. I just found out and decided to take advantage of the change for a visit. And I can see that I arrived just in time too, with you sneaking around at all hours and creeping back home at dawn to change your telltale clothes. What gives? What happened to prim, straitlaced little Carrie?”

  “She’s still alive and well,” Carrie replied, taking off her shoes. Gloria was a dancer with a Boston based troupe and spent most of the year on tour. They had grown up together on the same street. Gloria’s parents had retired to Florida so Carrie was her usual stop on the New England route.

  “It’s a man, of course,” Gloria said triumphantly. “Couldn’t be anything else. Nothing but romance could make you appear so disheveled at this hour of the morning. You usually look as if you just stepped out of a bandbox.”

  Carrie met Gloria’s eyes and then looked away. Gloria crowed with delight. “Oh, ho, I do believe that love has found Andy Hardy. No, not Andy, but his girlfriend. What was her name in those ancient movies? You know, Judy Garland’s role.”

  “You’re not funny, Gloria,” Carrie said darkly, picking up her discarded clothes.

  “Well I must say, this is news! Does he know you’re the only twenty-four-year-old virgin left in Fairfield County? Or has that vital statistic changed since my last visit?”

  “Nothing has changed, Gloria, including your big mouth,” Carrie said, heading for the stairs.

  Gloria trailed after her, completely unoffended. She picked up the dragging end of the blanket and tossed it over her arm. “Aren’t you going to tell me about him?” she persisted, following Carrie to the second floor.

  “Gloria, is this really a topic we have to pursue at eight in the morning? I had about four hours of sleep last night and I’ve got a full day ahead of me. It’s Halloween, for your information. Do you know what Halloween is like in an elementary school?”

  “Tonight, then,” Gloria said, undaunted. “You’ll tell me all about him tonight.”

  “Fine. Now please let me find something to wear before I’m late.”

  Gloria stepped out of her path to the closet, rubbing the back of her neck. “That couch downstairs must be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the Western world. I’ll have to see a chiropractor to realign my spine.”

  “Why didn’t you sleep in the bed, for heaven’s sake?” Carrie asked, struggling into a sweater.

  “Because I kept expecting you to return at any minute and I thought you would need it,” Gloria replied pointedly. “Why didn’t you? Return, I mean? As if I didn’t know.”

  “I got stranded by the storm. I thought we weren’t going to discuss this until later, Gloria.”

  “Boy, you’re no fun. Can’t you tell me anything? Not even his name?”

  “His name is Jason.”

  “Really? Did you spot the Golden Fleece while you were there?” She grinned hugely, enjoying her obscure joke.

  Carrie threw her a dirty look as she retrieved a pair of tailored slacks from the gloomy depths of her closet. Examination revealed the reason for their placement: the zipper was broken, and she remembered that she had meant to have it fixed. Carrie replaced the reject on a hanger and withdrew another pair of pants, which featured a prominen
t coffee stain on one of the legs. She closed her eyes. It was clear that it was going to be just one of those days.

  She settled on a wool skirt that wasn’t the best match for the sweater but she was in no position to be choosy. She was putting it on when Gloria asked, “Did you tell him about Jerry, your erstwhile fiancé?”

  Carrie surrendered. “I told him that Jerry couldn’t keep his hands off his models.”

  “Jerry couldn’t keep his hands off you either and that was the real problem.”

  “I wasn’t sure I was in love with him, you know that. He was my dad’s assistant. He was always around and I knew him a long time. Now I’m glad I held out because this time I know the difference.”

  “This time you’re sure you’re in love,” Gloria clarified.

  “Yes.”

  The conviction in Carrie’s voice put an end to Gloria’s levity. She sat on the love seat by the window and nibbled her thumbnail.

  “I guess it had to happen sooner or later,” she said thoughtfully.

  Carrie went into the bathroom to brush her hair. “Did you take a cab from the station?” she called out to Gloria.

  “Yup.”

  “You can drop me off at the school if you think you’ll need the car,” Carrie said, emerging into the hall.

  “No, that’s okay. I plan to go back to bed and sleep until noon. Think about me when you’re inverting fractions.” She did a swan dive onto Carrie’s bed and kicked up her heels.

  “Thanks, I will.” Carrie padded back down the stairs and grabbed up her coat and purse. She remembered that her briefcase, with its uncorrected tests, was still in the car. She locked the door behind her and ran out to meet the day.

  * * * *

  The day proved to be one that should never have been met. Ordinarily she enjoyed the parade of costumed kindergarteners and the excitement of her students as they planned for the evening ahead. But she was just too tired and worried and confused to get into the holiday spirit. To top it all off there was a faculty meeting after school. She and Lois Bonner exchanged pained glances while the other teachers nattered on about nothing until almost four o’clock.

  By the time she got home Carrie was ready to drop. She was barely inside when the doorbell rang behind her as she greeted Gloria.

  “Who can that be?” she said aloud.

  Gloria was doing stretching exercises on an improvised barre: a broom handle propped between the wall and Carrie’s piano. “It’s Halloween, remember?”

  Carrie groaned. “Oh, no. I have nothing for the kids. I meant to pick something up on the way home and forgot all about it. I just wasn’t thinking.”

  Gloria lowered her left leg, executed a perfect plie, and turned toward Carrie. “Fortunately for both of us, I’m here and I’m thinking. I walked into town earlier and bought two big bags of those individually wrapped candy bars. They’re on the kitchen table.”

  Carrie ran to her friend and kissed her. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “You didn’t think so this morning,” Gloria observed, with perfect equanimity. They had been close too long for either one to pay much attention to moods.

  Carrie went to the kitchen and retrieved the goodies, dumping the lot into a hollow plastic pumpkin she kept in the pantry for the purpose. She put it out on the front porch and turned the light on above it. She was a favored stop on the Halloween trail, since the kids went past her bungalow on the way to the main house. In the past, the pumpkin device had worked well when she had had papers to correct or lesson plans to do and couldn’t stop every five minutes to answer the door. She was delighted that the kids usually took only one treat apiece and went on their way rather than grabbing a greedy handful . It restored her faith in human nature.

  “I guess the first group gave up,” she said to Gloria as she came back inside. “They were gone when I opened the door.”

  Gloria raised her right leg to an impossible height and held it there. “I’m waiting,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  Carrie got two soft drinks from the refrigerator and handed one to her friend, who popped the top and drank thirstily. Carrie stretched full length on the couch and nudged her shoes onto the floor.

  “Fire away,” she said, propping a throw pillow under her head.

  Gloria, attired in a sweat stained blue leotard and candy pink leg warmers, assumed the lotus position on the rug. “From the beginning. How did you meet this guy?”

  Carrie recounted the whole story, starting with her parent conference concerning Johnny and ending with Jason’s behavior that morning. By this time Gloria’s blue eyes were like saucers and her attention was riveted on Carrie’s face.

  “I can’t believe this,” she exclaimed, when Carrie stopped talking. “You almost slept with the father of one of your students? Talk about an unsuitable relationship! When you decide to cross the line you really go for the gusto.”

  “It’s not unsuitable. It’s not even a relationship. We haven’t done anything.”

  “You don’t have tenure, Carrie. Fooling around with your student’s dad could prevent you from getting it. Don’t you see that?”

  “I see that nothing has happened. That’s what I see.”

  “Nothing has happened yet. Still, for you to even contemplate the next step is a walk on the wild side for cautious Carrie. I’m struck dumb, darling. Speechless.”

  “Not for long, I bet,” Carrie said dryly.

  “And you think he pulled away from you last night because he’s still obsessed with his dead wife.”

  “If you could have seen him you would know I was right.” Carrie propped herself up on one elbow. “He saw that nightgown and it reminded him of her. That’s why he reacted the way he did.”

  “Would you have gone through with it?” Gloria asked, alert to her response.

  “Yes.”

  Gloria whistled under her breath.

  “I love him, Glo. I know the whole thing is a mess and probably hopeless but that doesn’t make me love him any less.”

  “How old is he?” Gloria asked.

  “Thirty-four or thirty-five, I guess.”

  “What does he look like?”

  Carrie indulged Gloria’s rapacious curiosity and gave her all the details. “He’s tall, slim, and blond, but not like you. His hair is several colors mixed, shaded brown and gold and russet. His eyes are sort of a hazel color, very changeable, sometimes green, sometimes gray. I think he’s beautiful.”

  “Apparently. How bad is the scarring you described?”

  “Pretty bad on his body but not visible at all on his face. I don’t know, Gloria, I don’t even see it anymore.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Carrie rolled over and hugged the pillow. “I don’t know,” she said miserably.

  “You haven’t told him he’d be the first?”

  “How can I tell him that?” Carrie answered, exasperated. “It’s not the sort of thing you bring up in casual conversation.”

  Gloria let that drop and began to twist her hair around her index finger, a bad sign. When they were children this gesture always presaged some diabolical plan sure to land Carrie in trouble.

  “What are you thinking?” Carrie asked warily.

  “What makes you so sure he’s still in love with the boy’s mother?” Carrie asked pensively.

  “Oh, Gloria, you should see the pictures of her. She was just incredible.”

  “So are you,” Gloria said loyally.

  “Not like this. Not like her. She was tall and regal and cover girl perfect. Confidence just exudes from those photos of her. You can tell there wasn’t a thing in life she went after that she didn’t get.”

  “Including the wonderful Jason, right?”

  “His face changes as soon as somebody mentions her,” Carrie murmured. “The pain is so real you can almost touch it. How can I compete with a memory like that?”

  “What about the boy?”

  “I’m very fond of him and I think he likes me. No
problem there. Unfortunately John can’t make his father fall in love with me.”

  “But you can.”

  “I’m trying,” Carrie whispered. “I’m trying so hard.”

  “And you’re succeeding! Why do you think he made love to you last night?”

  Carrie shook her head. “He was scared, Gloria. I’ve never seen anyone so terrified by a dream. I was handy; I was there. That’s all it was.”

  “You never did give yourself much credit,” Gloria said sourly.

  “It’s the truth,” Carrie insisted. “This morning he was entirely different: polite, distant, aloof.”

  “He was embarrassed! You said so yourself.”

  Carrie sat up and pressed her palms to her temples. “I have no experience dealing with things like this. I’m afraid I’m going to say or do the wrong thing.”

  Gloria got up and went to her purse, which was sitting on the piano bench, and removed an envelope. She sat next to Carrie and tapped it against her thigh.

  “Two tickets to my Hartford performance next week,” she said, dropping the packet in Carrie’s lap.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Gloria assumed an air of injured innocence.

  “Nothing at all. I just wanted you to have them in case you might need them, that’s all.”

  “I’ll come by myself, Gloria.” She put the tickets on the coffee table.

  “Won’t be much fun that way.”

  “But considerably safer,” Carrie said, rising to replace her shoes and go into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and put it on the stove.

  “How about some tea?” she called brightly to Gloria.

  Gloria followed her and lounged indolently in the doorway. “You’re dodging the issue,” she said, singsong.

  “I just don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Carrie said in a tired voice.

  “I’ve never heard you say that you loved a man before,” Gloria observed quietly. “Never. Don’t you think some positive action is required?”

  “I took action last night and wound up creating an impossible situation. I thought I was helping when I went into Jason’s room and now the man treats me like I’m a stranger. I couldn’t have made a bigger mistake if I had set out deliberately to ruin everything.”