11. Carrie
11
CARRIE
I lay sprawled on my bed with my phone propped up on the nightstand facing me. Ethan sat on the subway with his wired headset plugged into his phone for our video chat. I missed him so much. It'd been weeks since we spoke, and I never really got a chance to tell him all the details yet. When he called me over an hour ago, I almost burst into tears. I missed life in Chicago.
"It's so good that your dad is doing better now. I was so worried." Ethan was such a sweetheart. He'd sent me good morning texts every day, and while my regular text-message updates kept me connected to him, this call made me so homesick for my life in the city.
"How did the date go with Jack?" I asked, purposefully using the wrong name. I liked to pick on him and he knew I did it with love.
"It's Jake," he said with a playfully harsh tone. "And we've been out a few times now. He's a good guy, but I'm just not feeling it. Might have to let him down easy." Ethan frowned at me, and I chuckled.
"You're such a perfectionist. You're never going to find a guy if you're so picky," I chided softly, but even as I did, my mind drifted to Ryan and what happened on Sunday.
It was Thanksgiving Day, and the week had been so busy with Dad's therapy and doctor's appointments, not to mention Mom and her church friends prepping for the Christmas bazaar and forcing me to help. I'd barely spoken to anyone, Ryan included. He stopped by to bring Mom something, but I was out.
"You have room to talk, Momma. You can't even land a real date. One-night stands don't count. When are you going to find someone?"
I reached over and turned the volume on my phone down a few notches so Mom and Dad didn't overhear my conversation. They were downstairs in the living room, and Mom hadn't even been upstairs in two days since moving everything down to the guest room downstairs, but I knew where this conversation was headed and I wasn't taking any chances.
"So, I'm sure this is just a fling and nothing will come of it, but I met someone." I was giddy inside at the idea of telling Ethan about Ryan. I hadn't said a word to a single soul and I was bursting with emotion. There was no way in hell I'd ever tell anyone here in Evergreen, but Ethan was hundreds of miles away in Chicago. My secret was safe with him.
"Oh, girl, now you know you have to dish."
I was so happy to finally have someone to talk to about all of this. It felt like I'd bottled up a year's worth of nervous energy as I spilled all the juicy details of how Ryan flirted with me and how sweet and kind he was. And I even told Ethan how Ryan stopped by to shovel the walk and help the family. When it got to the part about the hot sex on his counter, followed by round two in Ryan's bed, Ethan was just as giddy as I was.
"Sounds like you're graduating," he joked. "My girl has moved on from single flings to something more serious. Now tell me… What does he look like?" Ethan, more than anyone else in my life, was always so supportive. I was a bit nervous to tell him how old Ryan was, but I knew he'd take it in stride. He was so non-judgmental like that.
"Well, brace yourself," I told him, taking a deep breath. "He's forty-five." I bit my lower lip, and Ethan shrugged his shoulders.
"And?" he asked, leaning in. "I want to know what he looks like, honey. I have to picture this hunk who's stolen your heart."
I snickered again, thankful I had the best friend in the world. "He's so cute, and my God, his body is ripped. You'd be jealous."
Ethan and I carried on for a bit longer. He asked me details about Ryan and then cautioned me to be upfront and honest, not only with Ryan about what I might want, but also my parents. Thankfully, the conversation had mostly shifted back to the topic of when I might return to Chicago when Mom knocked on the door.
"Oh, gosh, I gotta go, Ethan. I'll text you later." I reached for my phone to end the call, but Ethan had one more thing to say.
"Oh! I forgot!" he said excitedly. Mom was already opening the door up, and I sat up holding my phone in my hands, praying his "one more thing" wasn't about Ryan. "I saw this epic marketing job available in New York and I put your resume in. I hope you don’t hate me."
"What?" I smiled at him, feeling honored that he'd think of me. "Why would I hate you? What firm is it with? How soon are they hiring?" Just hearing about this made me feel hopeful. Not that I didn't love working at Cox, but if Ethan thought this was a step up, I trusted him.
"It's Ogilvy, babe. They need a brand strategist, and they're hiring new creative directors." His words were music to my ears. I couldn't believe my luck.
I glanced up at Mom with a grin on my face, but she not only didn't have a clue how huge this could be, but she also didn't look happy to hear the news. Just seeing her glower at me as she listened to Ethan talk made me feel sad instead of energized.
"Okay, I’ll call you later, Ethan. I have to go now." I waited for him to say goodbye, then I stashed my phone on the nightstand and climbed off the bed. "What's up?" I asked her, pushing my hands into my jeans pockets. I knew she'd been cooking all morning to prepare our Thanksgiving Day feast and wondered if she needed some help.
"I'd like you to come downstairs for dinner… Everything is ready now, and Ryan just got here." Even the tone of her voice was stiff and cold now. She was clearly upset about Ethan talking me up for a job even farther away from home, and while I knew the conversation would be had, I hoped she'd have the courtesy of bringing it up another time when we had more time to actually discuss what it might mean. I didn't even know Ethan had done that.
"Ryan?" I asked, confused.
"Yes, I invited him to join us for dinner because he's all alone and it's a holiday. Plus, your father is just downright cranky all the time and Ryan seems to help smooth the rough edges." Mom pursed her lips and shook her head, then walked out, and I shot to my full-length mirror to check out my appearance.
My hair was passable, hanging loosely over my shoulders. The red sweater I picked looked good over my black leggings, but I felt too drab. I had no idea Ryan was coming for dinner and I'd had no time to prepare.
"Now, Carrie!" Mom shouted, and I winced. I would just have to wing it. I tore the red sweater off over my head and snagged my cream-colored shirt dress and tugged it on. It was classier than the sweater but still looked good over my leggings.
By the time I got downstairs, everyone was seated around the table and Mom had Ryan in the chair next to mine. I sat between him and her and felt a bit fluttery as Dad said grace and we served the food. I noticed Ryan checking me out a few times, and it was hard not to have a stupid grin on my face.
Between seeing him again and the news Ethan just gave me, I was giddy all over again. Though the rush of good emotions did little to temper my nausea, which was in full swing. I was now fully convinced that I was pregnant and just living in denial. If it was true, I had more to worry about than Mom nagging me about moving even farther away from home.
Dad and Ryan chatted while we ate, and we were mostly finished eating when the conversation shifted and Ryan turned toward me. "So, Carrie, how did you manage to get so much time off work?" He had no idea the can of worms he was opening by mentioning my work, and I knew if he knew, he never would have brought it up. But it was too late.
"Oh, I'm taking family medical leave. State law means the marketing firm has to hold my job for me, but they completely understood anyway. I'm still being paid. I just have to check in and keep my current accounts up to date. My team is handling things for me." I paused briefly, hoping to take a breath and change the topic again, but before I could even breathe, Mom chimed in.
"Well, dear, if you're so happy at Cox, why would you even think of taking a job farther away? You know Dad needs the help at the store now. They're getting bigger, and with your education, I know you could help." And just like that, the wind rushed out of my sails and I felt deflated.
I cleared my throat as I felt my cheeks begin to burn and stared down at my plate which still had portions of food on it. I couldn't touch the stuff or I'd end up throwing up, which was a sad thing for me. I loved Thanksgiving food, and I was really missing out.
"Mom, I think I've explained that I prefer not to be badgered about working at Dad's shops. I went into marketing with the hopes of working for a big firm." I couldn’t look up at her because I knew if I did, I'd start crying. I was so frustrated and emotional. They always did this to me, and this time, it was even worse because I had to be embarrassed in front of Ryan.
"I'm just saying, with everything your father's going through, he needs your help now more than ever. And after all we've done for you, I think it would be a nice thing for you to help out, don't you think, Ryan?" Mom’s bringing Ryan into this was the last straw.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard and knew If I didn't get up and walk out, the waterworks would start. I forced a smile onto my face, blinked back the tears, and stood up. "I think I'll start clearing the plates," I told her, and I picked up my dirty dishes and walked into the kitchen where I could find relief. Before I got there, the tears were already streaming down my face.
Setting the dishes down by the sink, I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. I just wanted them to see me as the individual I was and appreciate that I wanted something different for my life from what they envisioned. Had Ryan not been here, that would've devolved into a shouting match with me defending the fact that I was an adult and could make my own choices. Dad strangely sat silent this time, and I was glad. He was usually the loudest.
"Are you okay?" I heard, and I tensed. Ryan had followed me into the kitchen and now I was caught crying. I swiped my eyes and turned around with the same plastic smile as I took his empty plate.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I told him, but it was obvious I was not fine.
He took one look at me and frowned. "You're not, though… That was hard, huh?" He took his dishes back from my hands and set them on the counter next to mine, then pulled me into his arms. I sniffled and let him wrap his arms around me.
"So frustrating," I told him, and he kissed the top of my head.
"They care. They just don't understand." It felt good to be nestled into his chest. I relaxed a little, now less concerned about what he thought of the interaction. I felt like he understood my point of view and sided with me. I took a breath and looked up at him, and when I did, he captured my lips in a kiss.
It was gentle but searing, and I smiled. This felt an awful lot like being a teenager and sneaking around behind my parents' backs.
"What was that for?" I asked him.
"Because the most beautiful woman I've ever met should never have to cry, and I wanted to see you smile again." He melted my heart with his words, and I was beginning to think this might be more than just a fling to him. Maybe it was to me too.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said softly. "I'm one of the judges for the ice sculpture contest in a few weeks. I wondered if you'd come and help me judge them? It could be fun."
While the idea of spending time with him did have its appeal, the thought of being in public with all the town gossips made me cringe. I wanted to be with him, but I wasn't certain that the risk of putting myself out there was worth it. I'd just be leaving to go back to Chicago. Ryan wouldn't go with me. He was firmly rooted here. I wondered if I was letting my heart get carried away.
"You don’t think people will talk?" I asked him.
"Let's give them something worth talking about." His wink made my stomach flip more than it already was.
"Alright, I'd like that." My cheeks were warm again, flushed after that kiss. But I pulled away. "You should go back. Mom will come looking, and I don't think her seeing us all cozy like this is a good idea. Not at all how I'd want them to find out."
The tension coiling around my body wasn't the good type that I knew Ryan could help unravel. I was afraid things would only get worse for me if Mom walked into the room.
"Of course." He pecked me on the cheek again and smiled at me before returning to the dining room, and I stood there like a damn fool daydreaming that he could take me right here on my parents' kitchen counter the way he had his own. What was wrong with me? It was like I had no sense. I was going to nuke my own life again, or at the very least, my heart.