Unsuitable (9 page)

“What about the footbridge?” Carrie asked, taking a sip.

“It’s open. The crew was out at first light. Power’s back on, too, as you can see.”

In view of what had taken place between them only a few hours before the conversation was ludicrous, but Carrie went along with him. She knew why he had chosen to ignore their nocturnal encounter. She had seen past his guard, and in the cold, clear air of morning he resented it. She had witnessed his terror and his need for warmth and closeness in its aftermath. But now Jason was himself again and his vulnerability embarrassed him.

“Should I say goodbye to Johnny?” she asked abruptly, setting down her cup.

He was picking up his dishes, his back to her. He shook his head. “He’s still sleeping, won’t be up for an hour or so.
I
’ll tell him that you wanted to see him but decided not to wake him.”

Carrie watched as he put the dishes in the sink and then faced her. They looked at one another, and for an instant she thought he was about to say something significant. But then he looked away and said casually, “I’ll walk you out.” He returned to the hall and put on his boots.

Carrie went to the closet and got her coat. Jason took it from her and helped her into it, releasing it the second her arms touched the sleeves. He picked up her pile of books from the stand by the entrance, and they went out in silence.

Outside the breeze was crisp and invigorating, redolent of autumn, but the ground was a mess. As he had said, the grassy areas were ankle deep in mud. She’d ventured only one step when Jason took her arm.

“Wait, you’ll ruin your shoes. Let me put this stuff in the car and I’ll come back for you.”

He was off before she could protest. He quickly dropped her things on the passenger seat of the car and returned for her. Without a word he swung her up into his arms and proceeded to carry her across the lawn.

The feel of his arms about her was disturbing, calling up memories of the last time she had experienced his embrace. Jason looked straight ahead, and if he were uncomfortable he gave no sign. But then just as he was about to set her down, he glanced at her face. His eyes blazed into hers until she turned her head, and she knew that he was remembering every moment, just as she was.

Her feet touched hard macadam, and she knew they had reached the driveway. When she fished in her pocket for her keys he handed them to her.

“I took them to move the car earlier,” he explained.

“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 prominent 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.”