Chapter Seven
Seven
“W ho told you that you aren’t sexy?” Jason asked, relaxing on her sofa.
Charlotte’s hands stilled as she poured coffee into two mugs.
How do you expect a man to get excited when his wife’s such a cold fish? No wonder you’re a failure at lovemaking. Are you sure you’re even a woman?
Charlotte’s heart reeled as Tom’s words returned to haunt her. She’d laid to rest as much of his vindictiveness as she could, bound her wounds and gone on with her life. Pulling away the bandage, examining the damage now, just seemed pointless.
“Charlotte?” he probed gently.
“My ex-husband,” she muttered.
“He’s wrong, you know.”
She nodded, rather than argue with Jason. For the moment he was infatuated with her, but his fascination wouldn’t last, and eventually he’d feel the same way as Tom.
“You never mention your ex-husband.”
“There’s not much to say.” She carried the two mugs into the living room. “Carrie was excited about babysitting Paul and Leah’s children,” she said, pointedly changing the subject.
Jason stood and took a cup from her hands, then sat next to her on the sofa, sliding his arm around her shoulders. His touch was warm against her chilled skin.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered and kissed her cheek. “You’re lovely and sensuous and beautiful. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. I’m not going to force you to discuss your marriage. Not now, but I want you to know I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.”
She smiled wanly, determined to steer the conversation away from the past.
Jason drank his coffee and left soon afterward, when it was apparent Charlotte wasn’t in the mood to talk. She wasn’t sure what her mood was, but she lacked the strength to analyze it.
Before leaving, Jason asked if she’d changed her mind again about the ball game on Saturday, and after a short hesitation, she nodded. Yes, she’d go, she told him. Jason smiled, obviously pleased, and headed out the door.
Something was happening to her, Charlotte thought, trembling. And it was happening against her will.
She’d made the decision earlier—she wasn’t going to see him again. After careful deliberation she’d decided it was best to end everything now before one or both of them ended up hurt. It was a simple, cut-and-dried conclusion.
Yet…yet when she’d tried to talk to him about it, regret and doubt had consumed her until she’d dissolved in tears and pain.
Heaven help her, she didn’t want it to end! Jason must’ve sensed that because he hadn’t appeared too concerned when she’d told him.
His confidence was well-founded. Within minutes, he’d broken through her resolve and was kissing her senseless. And Charlotte hadn’t raised a single objection.
It was too late. Too late to walk away from him. Too late to go back to the way her life had been before Jason. She was trapped by her own weakness and would continue to be until Jason discovered the truth for himself.
Carrie arrived home soon afterward, full of tales about the twins and Kelsey. Seconds later, it seemed, she was in her room and on the phone. Her thoughts heavy, Charlotte appreciated the privacy.
It wasn’t as though this was the first time Jason had kissed her. The impact he had on her senses wasn’t startling or new. The man had the uncanny knack of stirring awake the part of her she’d thought had died the day Tom asked for a divorce.
She felt reborn, alive with hope. And yet she was more frightened than she’d ever been before. Everything was different with Jason. In his arms she experienced an excitement she’d never even known was possible. His tenderness, the loving gentle way in which he touched her, had given her cause to wonder, for the first time, if what Tom had said was true.
What if it wasn’t? Could that be possible? With Jason she felt none of the dread she’d felt when Tom had kissed her. His lovemaking had always been so hurried, so raw, as if he were in a rush to complete the act so he could turn away from her. She couldn’t imagine Jason being anything but compassionate and tender.
But what if all the things Tom had said were true? Her heart slowed with uneasiness. Jason Manning was an attractive, sensual man. A passionate man. And he’d expect—no, he’d need—a passionate woman.
Thinking of her years with Tom conjured up such ugly images in her mind. His taunts echoed like the constant sound of waves in a seashell, never stopping, never fading, always there to remind her of what a failure she was.
At ten, Charlotte turned out the lights, made sure Carrie was off the phone and went to bed. She should’ve guessed that sleep would escape her that night.
You’re perfect , Jason had said.
Only she wasn’t—Tom had made certain she knew as much. The need to weep welled up within her, tightening her throat.
She had loved Tom. She’d hated him.
He had stripped her of her pride when he left.
Her life had ended that day. Yet, in other ways, her life had begun.
She’d known for weeks, months, that Tom was involved with another woman, and she’d said nothing because she was afraid. Because she feared life alone. Because she was willing to do whatever she could to save her marriage, even if that meant denying the truth. So she’d chosen to believe his lies.
When he’d forced her to face reality, he’d come at her in anger and guilt…and hate. She hadn’t cried. Not a single tear, not even when the divorce was decreed final. It wasn’t until years later that she gave herself permission to grieve for the marriage, the fantasy she’d built in her mind of what might have been.
In the beginning she’d been too numb with shock, too dazed by that last horrible scene, to experience any emotion. Gradually, as time passed, Charlotte began to feel again, a little at a time. It was like an anesthetic wearing off. As the years went by, as the numbness faded, she had to deal with the pain. A throbbing, savage pain.
Her grief came in waves. Regret struck first, reminding her of all the might-have-beens; one fantasy led to another. By now they would’ve had more children, she’d told herself. Tom would be established in his career and she’d be living the life she’d been cheated of as a child.
Anger followed regret. How could she have given her heart to a man who’d ravaged her self-respect? How could she have loved him when he’d treated her so poorly? But love him she had, so much that she still ached at losing the life she’d dreamed they’d share.
But mostly, as the years went on, Charlotte felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She knew it was unreasonable. After all, it was Tom who’d cheated on her, Tom who’d walked out on his family, abandoned his wife and child. It was Tom who’d forsaken their vows. Yet she was the one who accepted responsibility.
Sometimes the guilt was so overpowering, Charlotte found it intolerable. If she’d been a better wife, Tom wouldn’t have sought another woman. He’d said so himself. If she’d been more enticing, more sexual, more attractive, more satisfying, he wouldn’t have done it. She was too thin, too flat, too cold. The list was endless.
After years of telling herself that Tom had used her inadequacies as an excuse for adultery, years of struggling to repair her self-esteem, Charlotte gave up. Surrendered. She bought it all. The reassurances she tried to offer herself were empty. Null and void.
Everything Tom had said was true. She was a failure as a woman. A failure as a wife. No man would ever be satisfied with her. Not for long. Tom hadn’t been and Jason wouldn’t be, either. She might as well accept that now and stop fighting the inevitable.
* * *
The doorbell chimed just as Jason finished reading the latest issue of one of the veterinary periodicals he subscribed to.
“Yeah?” he said, opening the door, half expecting one of his tenants.
“Hi,” Carrie said, striding purposefully into his apartment. “Have you got a minute to talk?”
“Sure.” Jason led the way into the living room and sat down. Carrie started to pace in front of his television, hands behind her back. Walking in his apartment was dangerous with the week’s worth of newspapers spread across the carpet.
“Is it Higgins?” he prompted, when she didn’t speak right away.
She shook her head, eyes lighting up. “Higgins is doing great. He’s eating and everything. I think he likes it with Mom and me.”
“I’m sure he does.” They’d lavished the dog with love and attention from the moment Jason had carried him into their apartment on Monday afternoon. One would’ve thought the mutt was some kind of hero. In a way he was, Jason decided. If it hadn’t been for the dog, Jason didn’t know how long it would have taken him and Charlotte to connect.
“What can I do for you?”
“It’s Mom,” Carrie said.
“What about your mother?” He saw that tears had pooled in Carrie’s eyes, and she wasn’t trying to hide the fact. Like most men, Jason was uncomfortable when a woman started to cry. No matter what the cause, he felt personally responsible. And he felt an overpowering urge to do whatever he could to rectify the problem.
He certainly felt that way with Charlotte—even more so. She’d look at him with her beautiful blue eyes and the instant he saw the slightest hint of tears, he’d be putty in her hands. He was putty in her hands, anyway, tears or not, but that was because it was Charlotte.
“My mother’s ruining my life,” Carrie was saying.
Jason was no psychiatrist, but he wasn’t completely obtuse. “Does this have something to do with that dance?”
Carrie nodded. “There’s this boy…his name’s Brad. He’s the cutest boy in class and the star of the track team. Every girl in school’s crazy about him and he asked me. Me,” she emphasized again, bringing her hand to her heart. “He asked me to the ninth-grade dance. When I talked to Mom, she said I could go, but when I said Brad’s father was picking us up and…and driving us there, she went totally weird on me.”
“I’m sure your mother has a good reason for feeling the way she does.”
“She won’t even talk about it.”
“Carrie, listen. I’d like to help, but this is between you and your mother. I can’t interfere with a parenting decision.”
Carrie nodded, her throat working as she struggled not to cry. “I don’t expect you to interfere… I was hoping that you’d help me—tell me what to say to make Mom understand how old-fashioned she’s being. I haven’t said anything to Brad about my mom not wanting me to be in the same car as him and his dad and…and the dance is next Friday night. There isn’t much time left.”
Jason rubbed the side of his face. “What’s your mother’s primary objection?”
“She thinks driving with him makes it a real date. And I’m not allowed to date until next year.”
“I see. What if she drove you and Brad to the dance?”
“That won’t work, either…. Everyone will think I asked him and…it might be silly, but I want Suzie Jennings to know otherwise.” She wiped her eyes and took a moment to regain her composure.
“How about if Brad’s dad drops you off and your mother picks the two of you up after the dance?”
Carrie dropped her hands to her side. “Picks us up?” she repeated thoughtfully.
“It wouldn’t be considered a date then, would it? The two of you obviously need to be driven to and from the dance and this would simply be a means of transporting you.”
“There’s a party at Amanda Emerich’s house right afterward, but it’s directly across the street from the school and everyone’s invited.”
“I have an even better idea,” Jason said enthusiastically. At Carrie’s blank stare, he explained. “How about if your mother offered to chaperone the dance?”
Judging by the look Carrie gave him, she didn’t share his enthusiasm. “That wouldn’t work because she’d need a date. Chaperones at our school dances are always couples.”
“I’ll go with her,” Jason said casually. As soon as he made the suggestion, he wanted to jerk it back. Him dancing? The last dance he’d attended had been his sister’s engagement party. He’d rented a tuxedo and been miserable most of the night. Before then, his only other experience on the dance floor had been as a high- school junior. He didn’t know how to dance then and he hadn’t learned since.
“You’d do that?” Carrie asked, her voice rising. For the first time since she’d entered his home, her eyes sparkled with hope.
“Ah…” Oh, what the heck, he’d do it if it would help the kid. “Sure,” he answered. “I’d volunteer to be a chaperone.”
Carrie let out a cry of glee and raced across the room to throw her arms around his neck.
“Your mother might not be willing—”
“She will,” Carrie said confidently. “Mom’s crazy about you.”
“Yes, but will she be crazy about the idea of Brad’s dad driving you there and the two of us taking you home?”
Carrie mulled that over for a moment. “Of course she will,” she said, revealing no doubt. “Why shouldn’t she be? It’s a wonderful compromise. We’ll both be satisfied…. I mean, this plan isn’t perfect—no one wants their mother chaperoning a school dance—but it’ll work because Mom’s going to agree when she knows you suggested it.”
* * *
Jason was suffering from second thoughts when he rang Charlotte’s doorbell an hour later. Carrie had devised a plan for approaching Charlotte with his idea. At the appropriate point, he was to suggest the two of them chaperone the dance and make it sound like a spur-of-the-moment idea.
He was rather proud of his compromise—not the part about chaperoning the dance, but the shared-driving idea. By the time Carrie had left his apartment, he felt like an expert. Raising children wasn’t so difficult if you applied a bit of common sense.
Now, though, he wasn’t entirely sure he should get involved. The dance was an issue between Charlotte and Carrie, and his instincts told him he was trespassing.
It would’ve been different if Charlotte had come to him for advice, but she hadn’t and he doubted she would. There wasn’t any reason for her to, at least not with regard to Carrie. Charlotte was the one with parenting experience, not him.
Despite his second thoughts over his role in this drama, he’d agreed to help Carrie—even though his instincts now told him he was going to regret this.
Carrie answered the doorbell and smiled brightly when she saw him.
Charlotte looked pleased to see him, too, but she also looked like she’d rather not be. Jason was learning to read her quite well, and that skill was coming in handy.
“Hello, Jason,” she said softly.
“Hi. I stopped by to see how Higgins is doing.” A weak excuse, and one she was bound to see through in the next couple of minutes.
The black dog trotted toward him, his tail wagging slowly. Jason squatted beside him and affectionately rubbed his ears. “How do you like your new home, fellow?” he asked.
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” Carrie called out from the kitchen. Her voice was enthusiastic. The kid wasn’t any better at disguising her emotions than her mother was.
“Please.” Jason glanced up at Charlotte. He didn’t know what was going on with her lately. She’d been avoiding him—that much he understood—but he was willing to give her the space she needed. For now. He was a patient man. She was attracted to him, fighting it as hard as she could, but her resistance wasn’t strong enough to defeat him.
For the first time in his life, Jason had met a woman who needed him. Unfortunately she was too self-sufficient and proud to admit it. Charlotte Weston brought out all his protective urges. And his intuition told him he’d begun to bring out qualities in her—a sensual confidence and an ability to laugh, have fun—that she’d been repressing for years.
The woman was a puzzle, but slowly, surely, he was putting together the various pieces she revealed. Once he had the whole picture, he’d be able to scale those defensive walls of hers.
He strongly suspected Charlotte’s problems revolved around her ex-husband and her marriage. She’d been badly hurt, and gaining her trust and her love would require time and patience. Where Charlotte was concerned, Jason had an abundant supply of both. Carrie brought him a cup of coffee, and Jason pulled out a kitchen chair, then nonchalantly sat down. Carrie did the same. Higgins ambled over and settled at his feet.
Charlotte glanced at the two of them and frowned. “Is something going on here that I should know about?”
The kid couldn’t have been more obvious, Jason mused again. “Carrie came to me earlier this afternoon,” he announced, deciding honesty was the best policy, after all. The way he figured, if they were forthright about what they’d discussed, then Charlotte might be willing to forgive them for discussing it behind her back.
“Jason,” Carrie muttered a warning under her breath.
“Carrie came to you?” Charlotte demanded. “About what?”
“The dance,” Carrie admitted sheepishly.
“You went to Jason about an issue that’s strictly between you and me?”
“I needed to talk to someone,” Carrie cried, pushing back the chair when she stood. She faced her mother, feet braced apart, hands on her hips. “You’re being completely unreasonable and Jason agrees with me. He came up with—”
“Carrie.” Jason could see he’d been wrong. In this case, honesty might not have been the best policy. “I didn’t ever say I thought your mother was unreasonable.”
His defense came too late. Charlotte whirled on him, her face red and growing redder. Her eyes, the eyes he’d always found so intriguing, were filled with disdain.
“Who gave you the right to intrude in my life?” she flared.
“Charlotte, it’s not what you think.” Jason could feel himself sinking waist-deep in the quicksand of regret.
“You’re undermining my authority.”
“Mom…please, hear me out.”
“Charlotte, give me a chance to explain.” Jason didn’t have much of an argument; he should’ve listened to his instincts and stayed out of this.
“You may think because…because I’ve let you get close to Carrie and me that you have the right to express your opinion on how she should be raised, but you’re wrong. What goes on between my daughter and me is none of your business. Do I make myself clear?”
Feeling all the more chagrined, Jason nodded. The best thing to do now was make a hasty retreat. “I can see I’ve—”
“Just go.” Charlotte’s voice trembled as she pointed to her door.
“Mom,” Carrie shouted. “The least you can do is listen to him.”
Charlotte ignored her daughter while Jason, calling himself every kind of fool, made his way out of the apartment. He paused long enough to cast an apologetic glance at Carrie, but he agreed with Charlotte. He’d butted in where he didn’t belong.
* * *
After Jason’s departure, Carrie went to her room, slamming her door with such force Higgins scrambled across the living room, frantically looking for a place to hide.
Charlotte was so angry, it was all she could do not to follow Jason and tell him she never wanted to see him again. She would have done it, too, if she didn’t know she’d regret it later. And if she didn’t need to coax Higgins out from behind the couch and comfort him.
The man had some nerve! If Carrie thought she was going to manipulate her into giving in by getting Jason to side with her, then her daughter was wrong.
“I hope you realize what you’ve just done!” Carrie shouted as she opened her door.
Still stroking Higgins, Charlotte ignored her.
“You’ve insulted Jason.”
“He deserved it.”
“Like hell.”
“Watch your language, young lady.”
* * *
Thirty silent minutes passed while Charlotte cooled her temper. Carrie was apparently doing the same thing. A short while later, her bedroom door opened again and she walked out. She was pale and her eyes showed evidence of crying, but she appeared to have composed herself.
The same didn’t hold true for Charlotte. She was still furious. How dare Jason involve himself in her affairs!
“I’ve called Brad,” Carrie announced, opening the refrigerator. She stared at the contents, took out a cold pop and pulled back the tab. After taking one long drink, she turned to face Charlotte. “Brad said he’d tell his dad you’d be driving us to and from the dance.”
Of all the things Charlotte might have expected, this wasn’t one. “Good,” she said, feeling only a little better.
“I…was hoping you’d be willing to split the duties. Let Brad’s father drive us there and you pick us up.”
Charlotte mulled it over. That didn’t sound so unreasonable. She’d have a chance to meet the boy’s father when he came to get Carrie, and it wasn’t as if the two kids would be alone in the car—or at the dance.
“I… I’d be willing to agree to that.”
Charlotte thought Carrie would be grateful or relieved; instead she broke into giant hiccuping sobs. Her daughter slumped in a kitchen chair and buried her face in her arms and wept as if she’d lost her best friend.
“Carrie.” Charlotte placed her hand on Carrie’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
She raised her head and brushed the tears from her face, her shoulders heaving with the effort to stop crying. “You should never have said those things to Jason.”
“Carrie, he intruded in my affairs.”
“But I was the one who asked him to talk to you. If you’re going to be angry with anyone, it should be me, not him.”
Charlotte realized Carrie didn’t understand the nuances of a male-female relationship. Frankly, she wasn’t that well acquainted with them herself. She’d admit that she’d reacted in anger, but it was justified. Jason had simply assumed too much.
“But Jason didn’t want to interfere,” Carrie sobbed. “It took me forever to get him to agree and…and he only did it because I was desperate.”
“He overstepped the bounds.” Charlotte tried to remain adamant.
“You made him leave without even bothering to listen.”
Charlotte said nothing.
“I like Jason—and you do, too,” Carrie added unnecessarily. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Higgins is alive because of him and…and he took us to meet his family. Saturday was the most fun day I’ve ever had. It…it was like we belonged with Jason and his brothers.”
Charlotte had felt the same way.
“Jason wasn’t minding your business, Mom, at least not the way you think. He…he was helping a friend. Me. And you hated him for that.”
“I don’t hate Jason.” Far from it. She was falling in love with him.
“He’s the one who came up with the idea of Brad’s father driving one way and you driving the other. He…he suggested you chaperone the dance just so you’d feel comfortable about everything.” She drew in a shaky breath. “When I told him you’d need a date for the dance if you were going to be a chaperone, he said he’d take you. I mean, Jason isn’t the kind of man who dances…but he’d be willing to do it, for me, because he’s my friend. And for you, too, so you’d be comfortable at the dance. And what did he get for being so nice?”
“My anger,” Charlotte whispered, feeling wretched.
“You kicked him out of the house, and I don’t think he’ll ever want to come back. I know I wouldn’t.”
Charlotte sat down next to her daughter, feeling strangely like weeping herself.
“I wanted to go to the dance with Brad more than anything,” Carrie admitted, “but now I don’t care if I do or not.”
“Carrie, this isn’t the end of the world.”
“I really like Jason,” she said emphatically. “When I asked him if he’d ask you out, I did it for selfish reasons, and I apologize for that…but I’m glad I did it. You’re happier when you’re with him, Mom. You don’t think I notice, but I do. Jason makes you smile and laugh and forget how much you don’t like your job.”
Charlotte folded her arms around her middle. What Carrie said was true. It was as if her life had started all over again when Jason first kissed her.
“I don’t care about the dance anymore,” Carrie murmured. “But I care what happens with you and Jason. Go to him, Mom. Tell him you’re sorry. Please.”
Her daughter’s entreaty affected Charlotte more than any regrets she might feel about what she’d said and done. For one thing, she hadn’t realized how fond Carrie was of Jason.
“Will you do it, Mom?”
It didn’t take Charlotte long to decide. “Yes,” she said. She would apologize, for not giving him the benefit of the doubt, for not being willing to listen to him and Carrie, but mostly for the rude way in which she’d told him to leave her apartment.
It was the second time she’d had to apologize to this man.
“When?” Carrie asked.
“Soon,” Charlotte promised.
* * *
The opportunity came the following morning. After walking Higgins, Charlotte was on her way to the office, crossing the parking lot. She’d spent a sleepless night composing what she intended to say to Jason. She’d wait until that evening, go to his apartment and say what needed to be said.
She was halfway to her car when she heard her name. Her heart filled with dread when she saw Jason jogging toward her.
“Hello,” she said, feeling wretched.
“I won’t keep you.” His eyes bored into hers. “I want you to know I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I should never have gotten involved. This is between you and Carrie, and I was out of line.”
“I should never have spoken to you the way I did.”
“You were angry and you had every right to be.”
“But you… Oh, Jason, I feel terrible.”
He frowned. “Why should you?”
“Carrie told me how you were willing to help chaperone the dance and…and I didn’t have the common decency to hear you out.”
“It’s probably for the best. I’m not much of a dancer.”
Charlotte smiled up at him, knowing her heart shone in her eyes, and not caring. “Why don’t you let me find that out for myself Friday night?”