Right Next Door (18 page)

Carol's eyes connected with her son's. “Have you been watching soap operas again?”

“Mom,” Peter cried, “you're not taking me seriously.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, trying to hide the smile that raised the corners of her mouth. “It's just that my life is full. I'm simply too busy to spend time developing a relationship.” One look from her son told her he didn't accept her explanation. “Sweetheart,” she told him, setting her fork aside, “you don't need to worry about me. I'm a big girl. When and if I decide to see another man, I promise it'll be someone muscular so you can brag to your friends. Would a wrestler be all right?”

“The least you could've done was get married again,” he muttered, his patience clearly strained. “Dad would've wanted that, don't you think?”

Any mention of Peter's father brought with it a feeling of terror and guilt. They'd both been far too young and foolish to get married. They were high school seniors when Carol learned she was pregnant. Given her very tra
ditional Catholic family, marriage had seemed the only option. She'd also believed her love and their baby would change Bruce. For those reasons, Carol had agreed to marry him. But from that point to the moment Bruce had died in a terrible car accident three years later, Carol's life had been a living hell. She'd have to be crazy to even consider remarriage.

“Peter,” she said, pointedly glancing at her watch and pushing her plate away. “I'm sorry to end this conversation so abruptly, but I've got to get to class.”

“You're just being stubborn, but fine. It's your decision.”

Carol didn't have time to argue. She dumped the remainder of her meal in the garbage, rinsed off her plate and stuck it in the dishwasher. She left Peter after giving him instructions to take care of his own dishes, then she hurried into the bathroom.

She refreshed her makeup and ran a brush though her shoulder-length dark hair, then examined her reflection in the mirror.

“Not bad,” she muttered, eyeing herself critically. Thirty-four wasn't exactly retirement age.

Releasing her breath, Carol let her shoulders fall. “Who are you kidding?” she said with a depressed sigh. She faced the mirror and glared at her image again. Peter might not think she needed Oil of Olay, but the dew was definitely off the rose.

Tugging at the skin on her cheekbones until it was stretched taut, she squinted at her reflection, trying to remember what she'd looked like at eighteen. Young. Pretty. Stupid.

She wasn't any one of those now. And even if she'd had
the opportunity, she wouldn't go back. She'd made plenty of mistakes, but there wasn't a single, solitary thing she'd change about her current life. Although after Peter got his driver's license, she might modify that thought.

No, the only option open to her was the future, and she'd face that, sagging skin and all.

“Hey, Mom.” Peter's voice cut into her musings. “Can I invite a friend over tonight?”

Carol opened the bathroom door and frowned at her son. “I can't believe you'd even ask that. You know the rules. No one's allowed here when I'm not home.”

“But, Mom,” he whined.

“No exceptions.”

“You don't trust me, do you?”

“We're not discussing this now. I have a class to teach, and I'm already five minutes behind schedule.” She blamed Peter for that. If he hadn't tried to convince her how attractive she was, she wouldn't be late in the first place.

 

Class went well. They were into the third week of the eight-week course sponsored by Ford Hospital in a suburb of Portland, Oregon. The couples were generally first-time parents, and their eagerness and excitement for the adventure that lay before them filled each session with infectious enthusiasm.

If Carol had known when she was carrying Peter that he was to be her one and only pregnancy, she would've taken time to appreciate it more.

Since she was the last to leave the building, Carol turned off the lights and hauled her material out to her car. The parking lot was well lit, and she hurried through the
rain, sliding inside the car. She drew in a deep breath and turned the ignition key. The Ford coughed and objected before roaring to life. Her car had been acting a little funny lately, but it was nothing she could pinpoint. Satisfied that there wasn't anything too terribly wrong, she eased into traffic on the busy street.

It wasn't until she'd stopped for the red light at the first intersection that her car released a series of short pathetic coughs, only this time it really sounded…sick.

“What's wrong?” she cried as the light turned green. Pushing down on the accelerator, she leaped ahead, but it was apparent that the problem, whatever it might be, was serious.

“All right, all right,” she said, “I get the message. You need a mechanic and fast.” A quick glance down the business-lined thoroughfare revealed there wasn't a single service station in sight.

“Great,” she moaned. “How about if I promise not to let Peter behind the wheel for a while. Will that help?”

The ailing car belched loudly and a plume of black smoke engulfed the rear end.

“Okay, so you're not interested in a deal.” Turning into the first driveway she happened upon, Carol found herself in a restaurant parking lot. The minute she entered an empty space, the car uttered one last groan and promptly died. And of course she'd left her cell phone charging—at home.

For a full minute Carol just sat here. “You can't do this to me!” Her car disagreed. Climbing out, she walked around it, as if she'd magically discover a cure lying on the ground. The rain was coming down in sheets, and within seconds, she was drenched.

In an act of angry frustration, she kicked a tire, then yelped when the heel of her pump broke off. She wanted to weep.

With no other alternative, she limped into the restaurant, intent on heading for the ladies' room. Once she composed herself, she'd deal with the car and call Peter to tell him she was going to be late.

 

Alex thought that if his date giggled one more time, he'd have to walk away from the table. Thanks to this woman, he was going slowly insane. He should know by now never to accept a blind date.

The first thing Bambi did when they were seated at the restaurant was to pick up the saltshaker and start discussing the “amazing” qualities of crystal.

It took Alex five minutes to make the connection. The saltshaker was made of crystal.

“I'm crazy about hot tubs,” Bambi said, leaning forward to offer him a generous view of her ample breasts.

“They're…hot, all right,” Alex murmured, examining the menu without much enthusiasm. His friend—at least someone he
used
to consider a friend—claimed Bambi was every man's dream. Her name should have been his first clue. Once they'd met, he'd learned her given name was Michelle, but she'd started calling herself Bambi because she loved forest animals so much. Animals like deer and chipmunks and hamsters.

Alex didn't have the heart to tell her that in all the years he'd been camping, he had yet to stumble upon a single family of hamsters grazing in a meadow.

When the waitress came to take their order, it took Bambi five minutes to explain how she wanted her salad
served. Okay, he was exaggerating. Four minutes. He ordered a steak and asked for it rare.

“I'm on a diet,” Bambi said, once the waitress had left.

He smiled benignly.

“Do you think I'm fat, Alex?” she asked.

Her big brown eyes appealed to him to lie if he must. Once more she bunched her full breasts together and leaned toward him. It was more than obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. He suspected that he was supposed to swoon at the sight.

“You do think I'm fat, don't you?” Bambi asked, pouting prettily.

“No,” Alex told her.

“You're just saying that to be nice,” she purred, and demurely lowered her lashes against the high arch of her cheek.

Alex smoothed out the linen napkin on his lap, thinking he was getting old. Far too old for someone like Bambi/Michelle. His teenage son might appreciate her finer qualities, but he suspected even James had better sense than that.

“Do you have a hot tub?”

Alex was so caught up in his thoughts, mentally calculating how long it would take to get through dinner so he could drive her home, that he didn't immediately realize she'd directed the question at him.

“I love hot tubs,” she reminded him. “I even carry a swimsuit with me just in case my date has a tub. See?” She reached inside her purse and held up the skimpiest piece of material Alex had seen in his entire life. It was all he could do not to grab it out of her hand and shove it back in her purse.

“I don't have a hot tub,” he said, making a strenuous effort to remain civil.

“Oh, that poor, pathetic thing,” Bambi said, looking past him to the front of the restaurant.

“I beg your pardon?”

Bambi used this opportunity to lean as far forward as possible, drape her breasts over his arm and whisper, “A bag lady just came into the restaurant. She's drenched, and I think she might be hurt because she's limping pretty bad.”

Although he really wasn't interested, Alex glanced over his shoulder. The instant his gaze connected with the woman Bambi was referring to, he twisted his chair around for a better view. “That's no bag lady,” he said. “I know that girl.”

“You do?”

“Yes, she was with my son and his best friend this afternoon. I think she's another friend of theirs.” He paused. “She might be in some kind of trouble.” He wasn't in the business of rescuing maidens in distress, but someone had to do something. “Will you excuse me a moment?”

“Alex,” Bambi cried, reaching out for his arm, stopping him. Half the restaurant turned to stare at them—including the woman at the front. Even from halfway across the room, Alex could feel her eyes on him.

“You can't involve yourself in other people's problems,” Bambi insisted.

“She's just a kid.” He pulled his arm free.

“Honey, one look at her and I can tell you she's no kid.”

Disregarding Bambi's unsought advice, Alex dropped his napkin on the table, stood and walked away.

“Hello, again,” he said when he reached his son's friend.
Bambi was right about one thing. She looked terrible—nothing like the way she'd looked earlier. Her hair fell in wet tendrils that dripped on her jacket. Her mascara had left black streaks down her face, and she held the heel of her shoe in one hand. “I'm James's dad—we met briefly this afternoon.” He held out his hand to her. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course I do,” she said stiffly, clearly resenting this intrusion. She glanced longingly at the ladies' room.

“Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” she echoed. “What could possibly be wrong?”

She thrust out her chin proudly, but he resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. Sarcasm always set his teeth on edge. “I'd like to help if I could.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no thanks. Listen, I think you'd better get back to your date.” She nodded toward Bambi, and a smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. She had difficulty meeting his eyes.

Briefly Alex wondered what she found so amusing. But then again…he knew.

“I thought she was supposed to be tall,” she said next, and it sounded like she was trying not to laugh outright. Alex didn't appreciate her sense of humor, but he wasn't going to respond in kind. She was the one standing there looking like a drowned rat. Not him.

Her brows rose as she studied Bambi. “Actually two out of three isn't bad.”

Alex had no idea what she was talking about. His expression must have said as much because she added, “Jim was telling Peter how your date for this evening was tall and blond and had big—”

She stopped abruptly, and Alex could swear she was
blushing. A bright pink color started creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.”

Bambi apparently wasn't about to be the center of their conversation while sitting down. She pushed back her chair, joined them near the hostess desk and slipped her arm through Alex's. “Perhaps you'd care to introduce us, Alex darling.”

Alex wanted to roll his eyes at the way she referred to him as “darling.” They'd barely met. He doubted Bambi knew his last name. He certainly didn't remember hers.

Since he wasn't sure of anyone's name, Alex gestured toward Carol and said, “This is a friend of my son's….”

“Carol Sommars,” she supplied.

Alex was surprised. “I didn't know Peter had a sister.”

Carol shot him a look. “I'm not his sister. I'm his mother.”

“H
is mother,” Alex echoed, clearly distressed. “But I thought…I assumed when you were with the boys that…”

“She's got to be
way
over thirty!” the blonde with her arm wrapped around Alex's exclaimed, eyeing Carol as possible competition.

Unwilling to be subjected to any debate over her age, Carol politely excused herself and headed blindly toward the ladies' room. The way her luck had been going this evening, it shouldn't be any shock that she'd run into Alex Preston of all people—and his infamous “hot date.”

As soon as Carol examined herself in the mirror, she groaned and reached for her purse, hoping to repair the worst of the damage. No wonder Alex had mistaken her for a teenager. She looked like Little Orphan Annie on a bad day.

To add to her consternation, he was waiting for her when she left the restroom.

“Listen,” he said apologetically. “We got off to a bad start. Can I do something to help?”

Carol thanked him with a smile. “I appreciate that, but
I don't want to ruin your evening. My car broke down and I don't have my cell. I'm just going to call the auto club from here and have them deal with it.” She already had the phone number and a quarter in her hand. The pay phone was just outside the restrooms.

“All right.” Carol was grateful when he left. She was horrified by the way she'd spoken to him earlier and wanted to apologize—later. Alex had caught her at a bad moment, but he'd made up for it by believing she was Peter's sister. That was almost laughable, but exceptionally flattering.

She finished her call and tried three frustrating times to get through to Peter, but the line was busy. Sitting in the restaurant foyer, she decided to give her son a few more minutes before calling again.

Alex strolled toward her. “Is the auto club coming?”

“They're on their way,” she answered cheerfully, flashing him a smile.

“Did you get hold of Peter?”

Her facade melted away. “I tried three times and can't get through. He's probably talking to Melody Wohlford, the love of his life.”

“I'll contact James on my cell and have him get in touch with Peter for you. That way, you won't have to worry about it.”

“Thank you.” She was more gracious this time. “Knowing Peter, he could be on the phone for hours.”

Alex stepped away and returned a minute later. “Jim was talking to Peter. Fortunately we have call waiting so I got through to him.” He shook his head slightly. “They're doing their algebra homework together, which is probably good because Jim needs all the help he can get.”

“In this case it's the blind leading the blind.”

Alex grinned, and the mouth she'd found so arrogant and haughty earlier now seemed unusually appealing. His smile was sensual and affable at the same time and Carol liked it a whole lot. It had been a good many years since she'd caught herself staring at a man's mouth. Self-conscious, she dragged her gaze away and looked past him into the restaurant.

Alex glanced uncomfortably at his table, where the other woman was waiting impatiently. “Would you like to join us and have something to eat?” he asked eagerly.

“Oh, no,” Carol said, “I couldn't do that.”

Alex's gray eyes reached out to hers in blatant appeal. “
Please
join us.”

Carol wasn't sure what was going on between Alex and his date, and she was even less sure about putting herself in the middle of it, but…Oh, well, why not?

“All right,” she agreed in a tentative voice.

Alex immediately looked grateful. He glanced back at the woman who was glaring at him, clearly displeased that he was paying so much attention to Carol.

However, if her disapproval bothered him, he didn't show it. He led Carol back to the table and motioned for the waitress to bring a menu.

“I'll just have coffee.”

As soon as the waitress was gone, Alex introduced the two women. “Bambi, Carol. Carol, Bambi.”

“I'm pleased to make your acquaintance,” Bambi said formally, holding out her hand. Carol thought she'd never seen longer nails. They were painted a fire engine red and were a good inch in length.

“Alex and I have sons the same age,” Carol explained.
Her coffee arrived, and she quickly took a sip to disguise her uneasiness.

“Eat your dinner, Alex,” Bambi instructed. “There's no need to let our evening be ruined by Carol's problems.”

“Yes, please,” Carol said hurriedly. “By all means, don't let me keep you from your meal.”

Alex reached for the steak knife. “Is Peter trying out for track this year?”

“He wouldn't miss it. I'm positive that's the only reason he's managed to keep his grades up. He knows the minute he gets a D, he's off the team. Who knows what'll happen next year when he takes chemistry.”

“Jim's decided to take chemistry his junior year, too.”

“I took chemistry,” Bambi told them. “They made us look inside a worm.”

“That's biology,” Carol said kindly.

“Oh, maybe it was.”

“I need to apologize for the way I blew up this afternoon,” Alex continued. “I felt bad about it afterward. Yelling at Jim in front of his friends was not the thing to do. It's just that there are times my son frustrates me no end.”

“Don't worry about it. I feel the same way about Peter when he does something I've specifically asked him not to do.” Feeling guilty for excluding Bambi from the conversation, Carol turned toward her and asked, “Do you have children?”

“Heavens, no. I'm not even married.”

“Children can be extremely wonderful and extremely frustrating,” Carol advised Bambi, who seemed far more interested in gazing lovingly at Alex.

“Jim only has one chore around the house during the week,” Alex went on to say. “He's supposed to take out
the garbage. Every week it's the same thing. Garbage starts stacking up against the side of the refrigerator until it's as high as the cabinets, and Jim doesn't even notice. I end up having to plead with him to take it out.”

“And two days later he does it, right? Peter's the same.”

Alex leaned forward and braced his forearms against the table, pushing his untouched steak aside. “Last week, I didn't say a word, wanting to see how long it would take him to notice. Only when something began to stink did he so much as—”

“Pass the salt,” Bambi said, stretching her arm between Carol and Alex and reaching for it herself. She shook it over her salad with a vengeance, then slammed it down on the table.

Apparently Alex felt contrite for having ignored his date. He motioned toward her salad. “Bambi's on a diet.”

“I am not fat!” Bambi cried. “You said so yourself.”

“I…no, I didn't mean to imply that you
needed
to be on a diet, I was just…making small talk.”

“Well, if you don't mind, I'd prefer it if you didn't discuss my eating habits.”

“Where's the protein?” Carol asked, examining Bambi's plate of greens. “You should be having some protein—eggs, lean meat, that sort of thing.”

“Who are you?” Bambi flared. “Jenny Craig?”

“You're right, I'm sorry. It's just that I'm a nurse, and I work with pregnant women, and nutrition is such an important part of pregnancy that—”

“Are you suggesting I'm pregnant?”

“Oh, no, not in the least.” Every time Carol opened her mouth, it seemed she made an even worse mess of the situation. “Look, I think the auto club might need some
help finding me. If you'll both excuse me, I'll wait outside.”

“You should,” Bambi said pointedly. “You're over thirty, so you can take care of yourself.”

Carol couldn't get away fast enough. The rain was coming down so hard it was jitterbugging across the asphalt parking lot. Standing just inside the restaurant doorway, Carol buried her hands in her pockets and shivered. She hadn't been there more than a few minutes when Alex joined her.

Before she could say anything, he thrust his hands in his own pockets, sighed and said, “I gave her money for a taxi home.”

Carol wasn't sure how to respond. “I hope it wasn't on account of me.”

“No.” He gave her another of his warm sensual smiles. “It was a blind date. I should've known better than to let myself get talked into it.”

“I went out on one a while ago, and it was a disaster, too.” It got worse the longer she was single. Her friends seemed to believe that since she'd been alone for so many years, she should be willing to lower her standards. “How long have you been single?” she asked Alex.

“Two years. What about you?”

“Thirteen.”

He turned to face her. “That's a long time.”

“So Peter keeps telling me. According to him, I'm about to lose it and need to act fast. I haven't figured out precisely what
it
is, but I have a good idea.”

“Jim keeps telling me the same thing. Between him and Barney—that's the guy who arranged this date—they're driving me crazy.”

“I know what you mean. My brother's wife calls me at least once a week and reads me ads from the personal columns. She's now progressed to the Internet, as well. The one she picked out last week really got me. It was something like—Male, thirty-five, dull and insecure, seeks exciting, wealthy female any age who's willing to love too much. Likes string cheese and popcorn. If you can do
Sudoku for Dummies,
I'm the man for you.”

“Maybe we should introduce him to Bambi.”

They laughed together, and it felt natural.

“Give me your car keys,” Alex said suddenly. “I'll check it out and if it's something minor, I might be able to fix it.”

“I don't think it is. When the engine died, it sounded pretty final.” Nevertheless, she handed him her key ring and stood under the shelter while Alex ran across the parking lot to test her car. She stood on her tiptoes and watched him raise the hood, disappear under it for a few minutes and then close it and come running back to her.

“I think you're right,” he said, rubbing the black grease from his hands with a white handkerchief.

“Excuse us, please,” a soft feminine voice purred from behind Carol. Bambi slithered past them, her arm looped through that of a much older gentleman. She cast Carol a dirty look and smiled softly in Alex's direction before turning her attention to her most recent admirer. “Now, what were you saying about your hot tub?”

The two were barely out of earshot when Alex started to chuckle. “It didn't take her long, did it?”

“I really am sorry,” Carol felt obliged to say. “I feel terrible…as though I personally ruined your evening.”

“No,” he countered. “On the contrary, you saved me. By the time you arrived, I was trying to figure out how long my patience was going to hold out. I had the distinct impression that before the evening was over I was going to be fighting her off.”

Carol laughed. It didn't require much imagination to see Bambi in the role of aggressor. Come to think of it, Carol had dealt with a handful of Bambi's male counterparts over the years.

The rain had diminished and it was drizzling when the auto club van arrived. Alex walked the driver to Carol's car, and together the two men tried to determine what was wrong with her faithful Ford. They decided that whatever the problem was, it couldn't be fixed then and there and that the best thing to do was call a tow truck.

Carol agreed and signed on the dotted line.

“I'll give you a lift home,” Alex volunteered.

“Thanks.” She was already in his debt; one more thing wouldn't matter.

Within minutes, they were sitting inside Alex's car with the heater running full blast. Carol ran her hands up and down her arms to warm them.

“You're cold.”

“I'll be fine in a minute. If I wasn't such a slave to fashion,” she said with self-deprecating humor, “I would've worn something heavier than this cotton jacket. But it's the same pale green as my slacks and they go so well together.”

“You sound just like Jim. It was forty degrees yesterday morning, and he insisted on wearing a shirt from last summer.”

They smiled at each other, and Carol was conscious of
how close they were in the snug confines of Alex's sports car. Her dark eyes met his warm gray ones. Without warning, the laughter faded from Alex's lips, and he studied her face. After viewing the damage earlier, Carol knew her hair hung in springy ringlets that resembled a pad used to scrub pots and pans. She'd done the best she could, brushing it away from her face and securing it at the base of her neck with a wide barrette she'd found in the bottom of her purse. Now she was certain the tail that erupted from her nape must be sticking straight out.