Joy Argento - Carrie and Hope (7 page)

“Then why don’t you write?”

“I went to college with the intention of majoring in journalism. I really wanted to be a writer. I dropped out after my first semester because I was pregnant with Derrick. I got married five months before he was born. I put my career goals on the back burner so I could take care of my child and new husband.
My
ambitions took a back seat to
their
needs. I figured that being a dental hygienist would be a good choice because I knew the hours would allow me to be home with my family at night.”

“And what about now?”

“Now?”
Hope repeated. “Hmm, now I guess I am just where I am. I haven’t really thought about it much.”

“Do you still write?”

“I write poems and short stories, but I don’t ever do anything with them. I haven’t even showed them to anyone. They are just written in notebooks stacked in my closet. I haven’t written in probably a year or more. I just haven’t had anything inspire me lately.”

Carrie put her coffee cup on the end table. She slipped off her shoes and pulled her feet up under her. “I would love to read your stuff if you’d let me. I think it’s time they came out of that closet.” She picked up her cake and licked some frosting from her fork.

“I’m not sure how good they are. I would hate to have them bore you.”

“I doubt they would bore me. But I understand if you don’t want to show me. I won’t push.”

“I’ll think about it.
How about that?”
Hope asked.

Carrie tilted her head. “Okay. I can live with that.” She took a bite of her cake.
 

“Is Derrick your only child?”

“Yes, one and only.
He always wanted a little brother, but I thought one child was enough for me. So I got him a puppy instead.”

Carrie laughed. “And did that satisfy him?”

“No. But it helped. You know how you hear about parents getting their kids a puppy and the parents end up doing all the work?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we got this puppy…the cutest little mutt…and Derrick actually took care of it. Derrick was seven at the time. He named him
Mork
and Derrick really did all the work. He fed him and took him for walks and just loved that dog to pieces.”

Carrie finished up her cake and reached for her coffee again. “That’s great. Is he still with you?”

“No, when Tom got sick and Derrick went to college in Buffalo, it just got too much for me to take care of him. My sister and her husband took him. So, at least he stayed in the family. I didn’t have the heart to ask for him back after Tom died. They really love that dog. Derrick and I have visitation rights. It has worked out fine, and my sister has twin boys so
Mork
gets lots of attention.”

“That’s good. Can I get you more coffee or another piece of cake?”

“No, thank you. It was great, but I couldn’t eat another bite. I won’t have to eat for a week now.” Hope stole a quick glance at her watch. “I hate to do this but I need to get going. I have to work in the morning. I imagine you do, too.” She rose from her chair and picked up her empty cup and plate.

“You don’t have to do that,” Carrie said indicating the dishes Hope was carrying to the kitchen.

“That’s all right,” Hope said, setting the dishes down on the counter. Carrie retrieved the leftovers that she had packaged for Hope and walked with her to the door. She plucked Hope’s coat from the coat rack and handed it to her.

“I had a really nice time, Carrie. Thank you.”

“Me, too.”
Hope gave Carrie a quick hug and took the bag of leftovers that Carrie held out.

“Thank you so much for coming over.”

Carrie closed the door after Hope left and headed back to the art room.

Chapter 7

Hope fingered the piece of paper in her hand. She felt like a stupid teenager. It had been several days since she had had dinner at Carrie’s house. She wanted to call Carrie but didn’t really have a reason. She just felt like talking. Hope had friends throughout the years, but they were all friends
with a reason
. They were the mothers of her son’s friends, so they talked about the kids. They were the wives of her husband’s business partners, so they talked about their husbands. They were friends from her job, so they talked about work.

Carrie was different. She was a friend just because Hope liked her and enjoyed her company. She hadn’t had that since college. She hadn’t had that since…well, in a really long time.

Hope looked at the seven numbers written on the slip of
paper,
and punched the numbers into her cell phone. Carrie picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, Hope,” Carrie said cheerfully. “How are you doing?” Hope realized that either Carrie memorized her number or had it programmed into her phone. It took her by surprise.

“Hi Carrie.
I am doing just fine. How are you doing?”

“Great. I’m glad to hear from you. I was thinking about you.”

Hope smiled to herself at Carrie’s reaction to her call. “You were, huh? Something good, I hope.”

“Very good.
I was thinking about how much I enjoyed your company when you were here the other night. We’ll have to do that again soon.”

“I would like that,” Hope said. “What are you doing on Friday? We could go out to dinner or I could cook something here, although I don’t think I could ever top that meal you made.”

“I didn’t know it was a competition.” Carrie laughed.

“Well, truth be told…I’m not the best cook,” Hope admitted.

Carrie laughed. “In that case, there’s a movie I wanted to see. What would you think about going to the movies and then going out and grabbing a bite to eat? Or we could eat first and then see the movie. I don’t care which way we do it as long as it involves food.” Carrie laughed again. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds good. I haven’t gone out to the movies in years. In fact, I think the last movie I saw in the theater was…hmmm…
Finding
Nemo
, I think.

“Oh yeah, then I think you’re due. The movie is playing at the Plaza Theater. Hang on a sec and I will tell you the times.” Hope could hear the sound of paper rustling. “I’m back. Okay, let’s see here. It’s playing at seven, nine and eleven. What do you think?”

“How about we go out to eat at seven, and then we can catch the movie at nine?”

“That’ll work. Seeing I picked the movie, you get to pick where we eat.”

“All right.
I will check out what is around there and let you know. Would you like me to pick you up?” Hope paced as she talked. It was a habit she picked up when Derrick was a baby, and the only way to keep him quite when she was on the phone was to walk with him.

“Sure,” Carrie said. “Just let me know ahead of time where you decide we should go so I know how to dress. If we are going to Burger King I’ll just wear jeans. But if you want to go to La
Shareese
, well that place is fancy, and I may have to pull out my old bridesmaid dress to wear.”

Hope laughed. “I don’t think we are going to Burger King or La
Shareese
. But I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“So how are you doing? How is Derrick doing? Has he changed girlfriends yet? I’m assuming you’ve changed your underwear since you met her.” This was the reason Hope wanted to talk to Carrie. She seemed to really care about Hope and her life…and apparently her underwear. Hope chuckled to herself. Carrie was a bright spot in Hope’s day.

“Yes, I’ve changed my underwear a time or two since Derrick was here. And yes, as far as I know, she is still his girlfriend. I talked to him this morning and he mentioned her name several times. I do believe my son is smitten.”

Carrie laughed. “Smitten, huh? Guess that means he likes her.”

“What’s wrong with the word
smitten
? It’s a perfectly good word.” Hope feigned being offended.

“Nothing at all, it just sounds like something that would have come out of my grandmother’s mouth.” Hope could hear the amusement in Carrie’s voice.

“I’ll take that as a compliment then, because I hear your grandmother is special lady.”

“Yep, that’s how I meant it…as a compliment. That’s exactly how I meant it.”

“I thought so. Speaking of grandmothers, how is she doing? Any change at all?”

“No. No change. I went to see her today. I played her some Lady Gaga music. I figured if anything would bring her out of the
coma, that
would do it.”

“Why, is she a Lady Gaga fan?”

“No, not at all.
I thought maybe she would wake up to tell me to turn it off.” Hope was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. “You can laugh. I’m just joking. I am trying to keep my humor here.”

“Humor is important at a time like this, that’s for sure.”
     

The two women chatted away for close to an hour. Hope found it very easy to talk to Carrie. Her ear was numb by the time she hung up the phone. But she didn’t mind.

Hope tossed her cell phone on a chair in the living room and sat at the desk in the corner. She opened the cover on her laptop and pressed the button to turn the computer on. Her fingers tapped out a rhythm on the desk as she waited for the welcome screen. When at last it appeared, she signed onto the Internet and opened up Google. She needed to find a nice restaurant to take Carrie to on Friday. When she was done she opened the desk drawer and found and old notebook and pen. For some reason she was in the mood to write. The poem she wrote was one of happiness and joy.

Chapter 8

Hope didn’t know why she was having such a hard time deciding what to wear. She stood in only her bra and underwear and peered into her closet. The pile of clothes on the bed was growing larger as she tried on another shirt and then tossed it on top of the mountain.
 
She pulled a light blue silk blouse from her closet. She held it up in front of her and took a look in the full-length mirror.
This shirt might work,
she thought. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and watched herself in the mirror the whole time she buttoned the shirt. She left the top button undone. She examined herself in the mirror again and undid one more button. It showed more of her throat, but didn’t come anywhere near showing her cleavage. She undid another button and looked again. She added a pendant on a thin silver chain around her neck and nodded her approval.

 
I guess I should pick out a nice pair of slacks to go with the shirt. I am not sure that showing up in just my undies would be a good idea.
She looked through her closet again and selected a dark gray pair of polyester pants with pleats down the front. She slipped them on and pulled up the zipper in the back. She turned sideways and looked into the mirror, this time checking out her hips and butt. She turned again so her back was to the mirror. She twisted to look back over her shoulder and once again checked out her rear end. Satisfied that she looked good she picked up the clothes from the bed to hang back in the closet.

Her attention was drawn to the cardboard box on the shelf above her head. She reached up and pulled the box down and put it on the now cleared off bed. She lifted the lid, avoiding the layer of dust on it and set it on the floor. She sat down on the bed next to the box and pulled out a spiral notebook. She flipped through the pages, stopping here and there to read the words there in her own handwriting.
 
A poem she wrote during the time she was preparing to leave Tom caught her eye.

Now I don’t believe in good fortune

And I don’t believe in accidents

And I’ve gone against all of my instincts

In complete disregard of good sense

And I’ve put myself in this position

All at good judgment’s expense

Since I’ve accepted this mission

I cannot claim innocence

I should run

Now I stand here before you on guard

Yet we’re willing to play this game

These walls that surround me are hard to get through

But I know that you’ll try just the same

I should run

You should go your way and I’ll go my way

Say it’s been nice and move along without delay

I struggle in my head and it argues with my heart every day

I know better that’s why I can’t stay

I can’t help but trust my suspicion

You want more than I’m able to give

But you shouldn’t mistake my submission

As love, because it’s all relative

Because this broken heart that I carry

Will cause you nothing but grief

I was willing to give you my body

But our moments of joy with be brief

You should run

She pushed away the memories that the poem brought to the front of her mind, pulled out a couple more notebooks, and thumbed through them. Hope set aside one of the notebooks and covered the box again. She left the box on the bed and took the notebook with her when she left the room.

Hope slipped her cell phone into her purse and took her car keys off the hook where they hung by the door. She primped her hair in the hallway mirror applied a thin layer of lipstick and headed out the door.

The traffic on the express was light for a Friday night. Fifteen minutes later she pulled into Carrie’s driveway. Hope glanced in the rear view mirror. She checked her hair and teeth once more before going to the door.

Carrie opened the door several seconds after Hope rang the bell. She stood there wearing a long sleeve tan cardigan sweater and black dress pants. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore a simple gold chain around her neck.