Shadow Chasing, page 12
Philip’s letter arrived in Saturday’s mail.
My dearest love,
It’s been only a few hours since I left you in Seattle. I couldn’t sleep, and it’s too late to phone. As I flew back tonight I couldn’t drop the picture of you from my mind. This week is hectic, but I’ll phone you Tuesday night. I’m involved with three other friends from the force in a canoe race—don’t laugh. Ever hear of the Great Soap Lake Canoe Race? Well, yours truly is captain of the motley crew. We’re planning to arrive at Soap Lake Friday afternoon. The race begins early Saturday morning. The others have their own cheering squad. I have only you. Tell me you’ll come. I want to introduce you to my friends and their wives. And for all the trouble I’ve been giving Jeff Griffin, my partner, since Mexico, he claims he has a right to meet you. Let me warn you now that you shouldn’t believe everything he says. Jeff likes to tease, and believe me, he’s had a lot to kid me about the last few weeks. I want you to talk to Jeff’s wife when you come. Sylvia is pregnant with their first child. I know you’ll like her. Please tell me you’ll be there.
This is torment, Carla. I can feel your kiss on my lips, and the scent of your perfume lingers, so all that I need to do is close my eyes and imagine you’re with me. And, my love, don’t ever doubt I want you with me. I’m praying that this feeling can hold me until Friday.
I love you.
Philip
Carla read his letter again and again, savoring each word, each line. Several times she ran her index finger back and forth over his declaration of love. Philip sounded so sure of things. Sure that they were right for each other. Sure that she could put her insecurities behind her. Sure that she would eventually marry him.
And Carla felt none of it. Every day the list of pros and cons grew longer. Philip, like her father, was an idealist. Carla wasn’t convinced that being in love made everything a rose garden.
As for his invitation to have her come and root for him in the canoe race, Carla was sure that the real reason was so she could meet his friends. And she didn’t need to be told that policemen usually socialized with other policemen. Her parents had few friends outside the force; the same undoubtedly held true for Philip. Friday was only a few days away, and finding someone willing to trade workdays would be difficult with half the staff scheduled for vacation time. It was a convenient excuse until she made up her mind what to do.
“Have you decided what you’re going to tell him?” Nancy asked Tuesday evening, as she carted her luggage into the living room. After her last date with Cliff, Nancy had returned convinced she knew what she was feeling for Eduardo. When he’d pressed the invitation for her to meet his family, she hadn’t hesitated.
“No,” Carla answered dismally. “I’m afraid that I’ll be dragged into his life little by little until we’re married and I don’t even know what happened.”
“I think Philip’s counting on that.”
“I know.” Carla nibbled on her bottom lip. Philip would be phoning later, and she still didn’t know what she was going to tell him. If she told him outright that she wouldn’t come, he’d accuse her of burying her head in the sand again. And he’d be right. But if she did agree, Carla realized that things would never be quite the same again. He had come to Seattle and invaded her world. He’d played checkers with Gramps and had dinner with her parents. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Inch by inch, he was entwining their lives until it would be impossible for her to escape.
A happy, excited Nancy had left for Mexico by the time Philip phoned. Carla stared at the phone for five long rings before she had the courage to answer.
“Hello.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t disguise her unhappiness.
“Carla, what’s wrong?” She wanted to cry at the gentle concern that coated his voice. “You aren’t coming,” he said, before she could answer.
“I…I don’t know. Friday’s a busy day at the hospital, and finding a replacement—”
“You don’t want to come,” he interrupted impatiently.
“It’s not that.” Carla leaned her hip against the counter and closed her eyes in defeat. “It’s too soon for this sort of thing. I don’t think I’m ready.”
“For a canoe race!” Carla could feel his anger reverberate through her cell.
“You said you’d give me time and then you immediately start pushing at me. You’re not playing fair, Philip Garrison. Don’t force me into something I’m not ready to deal with yet.”
“You mean to say you can’t handle a social outing with my friends?”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
An unnatural, tension-filled silence followed. Carla struggled for some assurance to give him and found none. Maybe Philip was seeking the same. A full minute passed, and neither spoke, yet neither was willing to break off the connection.
Carla heard Philip take a deep breath. “All right, I won’t push you. I said I’d be patient. When you decide if you’re going to come, phone me.” From the tone of his voice, she knew that he was hurt and discouraged. “I’ll be out most of the week—practicing with the rest of the team.” Apparently, he wanted her to realize why be wouldn’t be available. “If you can’t reach me, I’ll be waiting at the B & B Root Beer Drive-In in Soap Lake from seven to nine Friday night. It’s on the main road going through town. You can’t miss it. If you don’t come, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll call you before then.” The lump in her throat made her voice sound tight.
“I’d appreciate that.”
Again there was silence, and again it was obvious neither of them wished to end the conversation.
“I…I have some good news about Nancy,” Carla said at last. “She’s flying to Mexico City to meet Eduardo’s family. From the way things have been progressing, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nancy returned wearing an engagement ring.”
“You could be, too,” Philip told her in a tight voice, and Carla regretted having said anything. It’d been a mistake to bring up the subject of Nancy and Eduardo in light of their own circumstances.
“I know.”
“But you’re not ready? Right?”
“Right,” Carla returned miserably.
The strained silence returned until Philip finally spoke, his voice devoid of anger. “Eduardo’s a good man.”
So are you, Carla mentally added.
“So you think Nancy may marry Eduardo?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Carla said, forcing an air of cheerfulness into her voice. “Nancy’s a lucky girl.” The second the words were out, Carla desperately wanted to take them back. “Philip,” she said contritely, and swallowed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“The problem is, I believe it’s exactly what you mean. I’m not a good-looking Latin American who’s going to impress your friends.” His words were as cold as a blast of wind from the Arctic.
“Philip, you’re everything I want in a man, except—”
“Except…I’ve heard it all before. Good-bye, Carla, if I see you Friday, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine, too.”
The phone clicked in her ear and droned for several moments. The entire conversation had gone poorly. She’d hoped to at least start off in a lighter mood, and then explain her hesitancy about meeting him for the weekend. But she’d only succeeded in angering Philip. And he’d been furious. She knew him well enough to realize this type of cold wrath was rare. Most things rolled off him like rain on a well-waxed car. Only the important matters in his life could provoke this kind of deep anger. And Carla was important.
She still hadn’t decided what to do by the time she joined her grandfather after work on Thursday for their regular game of checkers. Carla hoped he wouldn’t try to influence her to go. She’d taken Gramps out to dinner Sunday afternoon, and he had done little else but talk about what a nice young man Philip was. By the end of the day, Carla had never been more pleased to take him back to the retirement home. She prayed today wouldn’t be a repeat of last Sunday.
“Afternoon, Gramps,” she greeted him, as she stepped into his small apartment.
Gramps had already set up the board and was sitting in his comfortable chair, waiting for her. “The more I think about that young man of yours, the more I like him.”
“Philip’s not my young man,” she corrected, more tersely than she had intended. Carla had suspected this would happen when Philip met her family. Gramps and her dad had joined forces with Philip—it was unfair!
“ ‘The lady doth protest too much’—Shakespeare.”
Carla laughed, her first real laugh in two days. She and Gramps played this game of quotes occasionally. “ ‘To be is to do’—Socrates,” she tossed back lightly as she pulled out the rocking chair opposite him and sat down.
Gramps’s eyes brightened and he stroked his chin, deep in contemplation. “ ‘To do is to be’—Sartre.” He nodded curtly to Carla, and the set of his mouth said he doubted that she could match him.
“ ‘Do be do be do’—Sinatra,” she said, and giggled. For the first time in recent memory, she’d outwitted her grandfather. Soon Gramps’s deep chuckles joined her own, and his face shone with pride. “I’m going to miss you, girl.”
“Miss me?” She opened the game of checkers by making the first move.
“When you and Philip marry, you’ll be moving to Spokane to live with him.”
Miffed, Carla pressed her lips tightly together and removed her hand from the faded board. “Did he tell you that?”
“Nope.” Gramps made his return move.
With her fingers laced together in her lap, Carla paused and looked up from the checkers. “Then what makes you think I’m going to marry him?”
“You’d be a fool not to. The boy clearly loves you, and even more obvious is the way you feel about him.”
Carla returned her gaze to the checker pieces, but her mind wasn’t on the game. “He’s a cop, Gramps.”
“So? Seems to me your daddy’s been a fine officer of the law for twenty-odd years.”
“And Mom’s been miserable every minute of those twenty-odd years.”
“Your mother’s a worrier. It’s in her blood,” Gramps countered sharply. “She’d have fretted about your dad if he was the local dogcatcher.”
“But I’m afraid of being like Mom,” Carla declared vehemently. “I can’t see myself pacing the floors alone at night when Philip’s called on a case, or when he isn’t and just goes away for a while to settle things in his head. Don’t you have any idea of how much time Mom spends alone? She’s by herself when she needs Dad. But he’s out there”—she pointed to the world outside the apartment window—“making the city a better place to live and forgetting about his own wife and family.” Her voice was high and faltering as she spewed out her doubts in one giant breath. “Gramps, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of loving the wrong man.” Her fists were tightly clenched, and her nails cut painfully into her skin.
“And you think Philip is the wrong man?”
“I don’t know anymore, Gramps. I’m so confused.”
His gnarled hand reached across the checkers board and patted her arm. “And so in love.”
* * *
—
Talking out her fears with Gramps had a releasing effect on her, Carla realized, as she walked around the lonely apartment hours later. Only a few days ago, Philip had been sitting on that couch, holding her as if he’d choose death rather than let her go.
Her gaze was drawn to her cell. She’d promised to call him by now and let him know if she was coming. Her heartbeat accelerated at the thought of hearing his voice. With trembling resolve, she reached for her phone and waited for the electronic bleeps to connect their lines.
Philip answered on the first ring with a disgruntled “Yes?”
“Do you always answer your phone like you want to bite off someone’s head?” Just hearing his voice, unwelcome and surly as it was, had her heart pounding erratically.
A long pause followed. “Carla?”
“The one and only,” she answered. Her voice throbbed with happiness. She’d pictured him lying back in an easy chair and relaxing. Now she envisioned him sitting up abruptly and rolling to his feet in disbelief. The imagery produced a deep smile of satisfaction.
“You called!” This time there was no disguising his incredulity.
“I said I would,” she murmured softly.
“You’ve decided about the canoe race?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“First, I need to know if you’re wearing your glasses.”
“Good grief, Carla, what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Do you have your glasses on or don’t you?” she demanded arrogantly.
“Why?”
Carla was learning that he could be just as stubborn as she could. “Because what I’m about to say may steam them up, so I suggest you remove them.”
* * *
—
Washington was known as the Evergreen State, but there was little evidence of any green in the eastern portion of the state—and none at all in the sagebrush, desertlike area in which Carla was traveling. Divided by the Cascade mountain range, Washington had a wet side and a dry side. In Seattle, summers and winters were less extreme—for example, although it was already mid-July, there had been only a handful of days above eighty-five degrees.
Carla shifted in the driver’s seat of her compact car, hoping to find a more comfortable position. She’d been on the road for almost three hours and was miserably hot. Her bare thighs stuck to the seat of her car, and rivulets of perspiration trickled down the small valley between her breasts. Even Mazatlán hadn’t seemed as hot.
Exiting off the interstate freeway at the town of George, Carla gassed up her car at the gas station and paused to look over the map a second time. Within an hour or so she would be meeting Philip. They’d been apart only six days, yet it felt more like six years. Carla didn’t know how she was going to endure any long separations.
As he’d said he would, Philip was sitting at a picnic table in front of the B & B Drive-In. Carla savored the sight of him and did a quick self-inspection in her rearview mirror. Instantly, she was sorry she didn’t freshen her makeup while at the gas station.
As she pulled into the drive-in’s parking lot, she noticed that Philip had spotted her and was heading for her car. Carla’s throat was dry, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Hi.” Philip opened the driver’s-side door and gave her his hand, his face searching hers all the while, as if he couldn’t quite believe she wasn’t an apparition. The hand gripping hers tightened. “How was your trip?”
“Uneventful” was all Carla could manage.
Lightly, Philip brought her into his arms and brushed her cheek with his lips. Their eyes met as they parted, and still he didn’t smile. “You really came,” he said hoarsely.
She answered with a short nod. Philip had known without her fully explaining what her coming meant. The doubts, her determination to fight this relationship, were slowly dissolving. And coming here to meet his friends was a major step on her part.
“Jeff and Sylvia will be by in a few minutes.” He led her to a picnic table. “Sit down and I’ll get you something cool to drink.”
“I can use that.” Now that she was outside the car, the heat was even more sweltering.
Philip returned with two cold mugs of root beer. He set them on the table and sat opposite her. “I can’t believe this. My heart’s beating so fast I feel like an adolescent out on his first date.”
“I feel the same way.” She lowered her gaze to the root beer. Her fingers curled around the mug handle, and she took her first long drink. “I noticed in your note you said that you wanted me to talk to Sylvia.”
Philip’s hand reached for hers. “I think you two will have a lot in common.”
“Does she feel the same way about Jeff’s job as I do?” Carla asked tentatively.
“No.” His voice was gently gruff. “But you’re about the same age.”
“Didn’t you say she was pregnant with their first child?”
“Very.” He said it with an odd little smile. “You’ll be beautiful pregnant.”
Carla could feel herself blushing. “Honestly, Philip,” she murmured, her eyes looking troubled. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not? Last night after we finished talking, I was so happy that I lay in bed thinking I could run ten miles and not even feel it. But I didn’t run. Instead, I lay there and closed my eyes, picturing what our lives would be like five years from now.”
“And?” She was angry with herself for going along with this fantasy, but she couldn’t help herself.
“You were in the kitchen cooking dinner when I walked in the back door. A little redheaded boy was playing at your feet, banging pots and pans with a wooden spoon. When you turned to me, I saw that you were pregnant. I swear, Carla, you were so beautiful I went weak. My heart stopped beating and my knees felt like putty. I don’t think anything’s ever affected me like that. I’ve never made any pretense about wanting you, and I’m not going to start now.”
Carla busied herself by running her finger along the rim of her mug, and when she lifted her gaze, their eyes met. “That’s beautiful,” she said, and was shocked at how low her voice was. The closeness she felt with him at that moment was beyond anything she had ever known. But she wished he wouldn’t say such things to her. It only made her more miserable.
Silence fell between them, but Philip seemed content to watch her. Her hands trembled as she lifted the mug for another long drink. “Philip,” she said and moaned, finding his continued scrutiny uncomfortable, “please stop looking at me like that. You’re embarrassing me.”
My dearest love,
It’s been only a few hours since I left you in Seattle. I couldn’t sleep, and it’s too late to phone. As I flew back tonight I couldn’t drop the picture of you from my mind. This week is hectic, but I’ll phone you Tuesday night. I’m involved with three other friends from the force in a canoe race—don’t laugh. Ever hear of the Great Soap Lake Canoe Race? Well, yours truly is captain of the motley crew. We’re planning to arrive at Soap Lake Friday afternoon. The race begins early Saturday morning. The others have their own cheering squad. I have only you. Tell me you’ll come. I want to introduce you to my friends and their wives. And for all the trouble I’ve been giving Jeff Griffin, my partner, since Mexico, he claims he has a right to meet you. Let me warn you now that you shouldn’t believe everything he says. Jeff likes to tease, and believe me, he’s had a lot to kid me about the last few weeks. I want you to talk to Jeff’s wife when you come. Sylvia is pregnant with their first child. I know you’ll like her. Please tell me you’ll be there.
This is torment, Carla. I can feel your kiss on my lips, and the scent of your perfume lingers, so all that I need to do is close my eyes and imagine you’re with me. And, my love, don’t ever doubt I want you with me. I’m praying that this feeling can hold me until Friday.
I love you.
Philip
Carla read his letter again and again, savoring each word, each line. Several times she ran her index finger back and forth over his declaration of love. Philip sounded so sure of things. Sure that they were right for each other. Sure that she could put her insecurities behind her. Sure that she would eventually marry him.
And Carla felt none of it. Every day the list of pros and cons grew longer. Philip, like her father, was an idealist. Carla wasn’t convinced that being in love made everything a rose garden.
As for his invitation to have her come and root for him in the canoe race, Carla was sure that the real reason was so she could meet his friends. And she didn’t need to be told that policemen usually socialized with other policemen. Her parents had few friends outside the force; the same undoubtedly held true for Philip. Friday was only a few days away, and finding someone willing to trade workdays would be difficult with half the staff scheduled for vacation time. It was a convenient excuse until she made up her mind what to do.
“Have you decided what you’re going to tell him?” Nancy asked Tuesday evening, as she carted her luggage into the living room. After her last date with Cliff, Nancy had returned convinced she knew what she was feeling for Eduardo. When he’d pressed the invitation for her to meet his family, she hadn’t hesitated.
“No,” Carla answered dismally. “I’m afraid that I’ll be dragged into his life little by little until we’re married and I don’t even know what happened.”
“I think Philip’s counting on that.”
“I know.” Carla nibbled on her bottom lip. Philip would be phoning later, and she still didn’t know what she was going to tell him. If she told him outright that she wouldn’t come, he’d accuse her of burying her head in the sand again. And he’d be right. But if she did agree, Carla realized that things would never be quite the same again. He had come to Seattle and invaded her world. He’d played checkers with Gramps and had dinner with her parents. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Inch by inch, he was entwining their lives until it would be impossible for her to escape.
A happy, excited Nancy had left for Mexico by the time Philip phoned. Carla stared at the phone for five long rings before she had the courage to answer.
“Hello.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t disguise her unhappiness.
“Carla, what’s wrong?” She wanted to cry at the gentle concern that coated his voice. “You aren’t coming,” he said, before she could answer.
“I…I don’t know. Friday’s a busy day at the hospital, and finding a replacement—”
“You don’t want to come,” he interrupted impatiently.
“It’s not that.” Carla leaned her hip against the counter and closed her eyes in defeat. “It’s too soon for this sort of thing. I don’t think I’m ready.”
“For a canoe race!” Carla could feel his anger reverberate through her cell.
“You said you’d give me time and then you immediately start pushing at me. You’re not playing fair, Philip Garrison. Don’t force me into something I’m not ready to deal with yet.”
“You mean to say you can’t handle a social outing with my friends?”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
An unnatural, tension-filled silence followed. Carla struggled for some assurance to give him and found none. Maybe Philip was seeking the same. A full minute passed, and neither spoke, yet neither was willing to break off the connection.
Carla heard Philip take a deep breath. “All right, I won’t push you. I said I’d be patient. When you decide if you’re going to come, phone me.” From the tone of his voice, she knew that he was hurt and discouraged. “I’ll be out most of the week—practicing with the rest of the team.” Apparently, he wanted her to realize why be wouldn’t be available. “If you can’t reach me, I’ll be waiting at the B & B Root Beer Drive-In in Soap Lake from seven to nine Friday night. It’s on the main road going through town. You can’t miss it. If you don’t come, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll call you before then.” The lump in her throat made her voice sound tight.
“I’d appreciate that.”
Again there was silence, and again it was obvious neither of them wished to end the conversation.
“I…I have some good news about Nancy,” Carla said at last. “She’s flying to Mexico City to meet Eduardo’s family. From the way things have been progressing, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nancy returned wearing an engagement ring.”
“You could be, too,” Philip told her in a tight voice, and Carla regretted having said anything. It’d been a mistake to bring up the subject of Nancy and Eduardo in light of their own circumstances.
“I know.”
“But you’re not ready? Right?”
“Right,” Carla returned miserably.
The strained silence returned until Philip finally spoke, his voice devoid of anger. “Eduardo’s a good man.”
So are you, Carla mentally added.
“So you think Nancy may marry Eduardo?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Carla said, forcing an air of cheerfulness into her voice. “Nancy’s a lucky girl.” The second the words were out, Carla desperately wanted to take them back. “Philip,” she said contritely, and swallowed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“The problem is, I believe it’s exactly what you mean. I’m not a good-looking Latin American who’s going to impress your friends.” His words were as cold as a blast of wind from the Arctic.
“Philip, you’re everything I want in a man, except—”
“Except…I’ve heard it all before. Good-bye, Carla, if I see you Friday, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine, too.”
The phone clicked in her ear and droned for several moments. The entire conversation had gone poorly. She’d hoped to at least start off in a lighter mood, and then explain her hesitancy about meeting him for the weekend. But she’d only succeeded in angering Philip. And he’d been furious. She knew him well enough to realize this type of cold wrath was rare. Most things rolled off him like rain on a well-waxed car. Only the important matters in his life could provoke this kind of deep anger. And Carla was important.
She still hadn’t decided what to do by the time she joined her grandfather after work on Thursday for their regular game of checkers. Carla hoped he wouldn’t try to influence her to go. She’d taken Gramps out to dinner Sunday afternoon, and he had done little else but talk about what a nice young man Philip was. By the end of the day, Carla had never been more pleased to take him back to the retirement home. She prayed today wouldn’t be a repeat of last Sunday.
“Afternoon, Gramps,” she greeted him, as she stepped into his small apartment.
Gramps had already set up the board and was sitting in his comfortable chair, waiting for her. “The more I think about that young man of yours, the more I like him.”
“Philip’s not my young man,” she corrected, more tersely than she had intended. Carla had suspected this would happen when Philip met her family. Gramps and her dad had joined forces with Philip—it was unfair!
“ ‘The lady doth protest too much’—Shakespeare.”
Carla laughed, her first real laugh in two days. She and Gramps played this game of quotes occasionally. “ ‘To be is to do’—Socrates,” she tossed back lightly as she pulled out the rocking chair opposite him and sat down.
Gramps’s eyes brightened and he stroked his chin, deep in contemplation. “ ‘To do is to be’—Sartre.” He nodded curtly to Carla, and the set of his mouth said he doubted that she could match him.
“ ‘Do be do be do’—Sinatra,” she said, and giggled. For the first time in recent memory, she’d outwitted her grandfather. Soon Gramps’s deep chuckles joined her own, and his face shone with pride. “I’m going to miss you, girl.”
“Miss me?” She opened the game of checkers by making the first move.
“When you and Philip marry, you’ll be moving to Spokane to live with him.”
Miffed, Carla pressed her lips tightly together and removed her hand from the faded board. “Did he tell you that?”
“Nope.” Gramps made his return move.
With her fingers laced together in her lap, Carla paused and looked up from the checkers. “Then what makes you think I’m going to marry him?”
“You’d be a fool not to. The boy clearly loves you, and even more obvious is the way you feel about him.”
Carla returned her gaze to the checker pieces, but her mind wasn’t on the game. “He’s a cop, Gramps.”
“So? Seems to me your daddy’s been a fine officer of the law for twenty-odd years.”
“And Mom’s been miserable every minute of those twenty-odd years.”
“Your mother’s a worrier. It’s in her blood,” Gramps countered sharply. “She’d have fretted about your dad if he was the local dogcatcher.”
“But I’m afraid of being like Mom,” Carla declared vehemently. “I can’t see myself pacing the floors alone at night when Philip’s called on a case, or when he isn’t and just goes away for a while to settle things in his head. Don’t you have any idea of how much time Mom spends alone? She’s by herself when she needs Dad. But he’s out there”—she pointed to the world outside the apartment window—“making the city a better place to live and forgetting about his own wife and family.” Her voice was high and faltering as she spewed out her doubts in one giant breath. “Gramps, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of loving the wrong man.” Her fists were tightly clenched, and her nails cut painfully into her skin.
“And you think Philip is the wrong man?”
“I don’t know anymore, Gramps. I’m so confused.”
His gnarled hand reached across the checkers board and patted her arm. “And so in love.”
* * *
—
Talking out her fears with Gramps had a releasing effect on her, Carla realized, as she walked around the lonely apartment hours later. Only a few days ago, Philip had been sitting on that couch, holding her as if he’d choose death rather than let her go.
Her gaze was drawn to her cell. She’d promised to call him by now and let him know if she was coming. Her heartbeat accelerated at the thought of hearing his voice. With trembling resolve, she reached for her phone and waited for the electronic bleeps to connect their lines.
Philip answered on the first ring with a disgruntled “Yes?”
“Do you always answer your phone like you want to bite off someone’s head?” Just hearing his voice, unwelcome and surly as it was, had her heart pounding erratically.
A long pause followed. “Carla?”
“The one and only,” she answered. Her voice throbbed with happiness. She’d pictured him lying back in an easy chair and relaxing. Now she envisioned him sitting up abruptly and rolling to his feet in disbelief. The imagery produced a deep smile of satisfaction.
“You called!” This time there was no disguising his incredulity.
“I said I would,” she murmured softly.
“You’ve decided about the canoe race?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“First, I need to know if you’re wearing your glasses.”
“Good grief, Carla, what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Do you have your glasses on or don’t you?” she demanded arrogantly.
“Why?”
Carla was learning that he could be just as stubborn as she could. “Because what I’m about to say may steam them up, so I suggest you remove them.”
* * *
—
Washington was known as the Evergreen State, but there was little evidence of any green in the eastern portion of the state—and none at all in the sagebrush, desertlike area in which Carla was traveling. Divided by the Cascade mountain range, Washington had a wet side and a dry side. In Seattle, summers and winters were less extreme—for example, although it was already mid-July, there had been only a handful of days above eighty-five degrees.
Carla shifted in the driver’s seat of her compact car, hoping to find a more comfortable position. She’d been on the road for almost three hours and was miserably hot. Her bare thighs stuck to the seat of her car, and rivulets of perspiration trickled down the small valley between her breasts. Even Mazatlán hadn’t seemed as hot.
Exiting off the interstate freeway at the town of George, Carla gassed up her car at the gas station and paused to look over the map a second time. Within an hour or so she would be meeting Philip. They’d been apart only six days, yet it felt more like six years. Carla didn’t know how she was going to endure any long separations.
As he’d said he would, Philip was sitting at a picnic table in front of the B & B Drive-In. Carla savored the sight of him and did a quick self-inspection in her rearview mirror. Instantly, she was sorry she didn’t freshen her makeup while at the gas station.
As she pulled into the drive-in’s parking lot, she noticed that Philip had spotted her and was heading for her car. Carla’s throat was dry, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Hi.” Philip opened the driver’s-side door and gave her his hand, his face searching hers all the while, as if he couldn’t quite believe she wasn’t an apparition. The hand gripping hers tightened. “How was your trip?”
“Uneventful” was all Carla could manage.
Lightly, Philip brought her into his arms and brushed her cheek with his lips. Their eyes met as they parted, and still he didn’t smile. “You really came,” he said hoarsely.
She answered with a short nod. Philip had known without her fully explaining what her coming meant. The doubts, her determination to fight this relationship, were slowly dissolving. And coming here to meet his friends was a major step on her part.
“Jeff and Sylvia will be by in a few minutes.” He led her to a picnic table. “Sit down and I’ll get you something cool to drink.”
“I can use that.” Now that she was outside the car, the heat was even more sweltering.
Philip returned with two cold mugs of root beer. He set them on the table and sat opposite her. “I can’t believe this. My heart’s beating so fast I feel like an adolescent out on his first date.”
“I feel the same way.” She lowered her gaze to the root beer. Her fingers curled around the mug handle, and she took her first long drink. “I noticed in your note you said that you wanted me to talk to Sylvia.”
Philip’s hand reached for hers. “I think you two will have a lot in common.”
“Does she feel the same way about Jeff’s job as I do?” Carla asked tentatively.
“No.” His voice was gently gruff. “But you’re about the same age.”
“Didn’t you say she was pregnant with their first child?”
“Very.” He said it with an odd little smile. “You’ll be beautiful pregnant.”
Carla could feel herself blushing. “Honestly, Philip,” she murmured, her eyes looking troubled. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not? Last night after we finished talking, I was so happy that I lay in bed thinking I could run ten miles and not even feel it. But I didn’t run. Instead, I lay there and closed my eyes, picturing what our lives would be like five years from now.”
“And?” She was angry with herself for going along with this fantasy, but she couldn’t help herself.
“You were in the kitchen cooking dinner when I walked in the back door. A little redheaded boy was playing at your feet, banging pots and pans with a wooden spoon. When you turned to me, I saw that you were pregnant. I swear, Carla, you were so beautiful I went weak. My heart stopped beating and my knees felt like putty. I don’t think anything’s ever affected me like that. I’ve never made any pretense about wanting you, and I’m not going to start now.”
Carla busied herself by running her finger along the rim of her mug, and when she lifted her gaze, their eyes met. “That’s beautiful,” she said, and was shocked at how low her voice was. The closeness she felt with him at that moment was beyond anything she had ever known. But she wished he wouldn’t say such things to her. It only made her more miserable.
Silence fell between them, but Philip seemed content to watch her. Her hands trembled as she lifted the mug for another long drink. “Philip,” she said and moaned, finding his continued scrutiny uncomfortable, “please stop looking at me like that. You’re embarrassing me.”
