Bittersweet Surrender (27 page)

Studying the older woman a moment, Carly wondered about her. She'd been through a lot. Losing her first husband, her only child, and then a second husband. Life had given her some hard knocks. She was a survivor.

“You have such an adventuresome spirit, Magnolia. How do you get that?”

The older woman smiled, the twinkle in her eyes still in place. “I've always been that way. Broke my arm more than once when I was a kid climbing trees. Papa had threatened to cut every tree in the yard down if I didn't quit climbing them. Said it would have been cheaper than paying the doctor bills.” She laughed, then looked at Carly. “I like to think my life counts for something. That's why I'm involved in causes and things that seem maybe silly to other folks. I want to make a difference where I am, no matter how small that difference may be.”

Carly ran a chocolate spa. No matter how wonderful the job was, she wasn't convinced it was all that noble of a cause. A comfort, sure. Women needed comfort, right? Was it wrong to offer that? No. Carly was all about encouraging others, just in a different way from Magnolia. When spas came into vogue, it had seemed a perfect way to comfort and encourage women. She felt good about that choice.

But maybe she could do more. With limited funds, though, just what could she do? For a moment, she considered asking Magnolia's advice, but experience had taught her that once she asked Magnolia, she'd never hear the end of it. No, better to think about it on her own. Maybe talk things over with Scott.

Just then the doorbell rang.

Magnolia frowned. “Who would be calling this time of night?”

“I don't know. I'll be right back.” Carly ran down the stairs and opened the front door. She stood face-to-face with her brother, and he didn't look any too friendly.

“I want to see Rita, and I want to see her now.”

seventeen

“Rita isn't here, C. J.,” Carly said softly.

He shoved past her, the stench of stale alcohol following in his wake. “I know she's here, Carly. Don't try to hide her. She has nowhere else to go.”

Carly stepped in front of him, her five-foot-eight inches doing nothing to intimidate his six-foot-two drunken self.

“I said she's not here. Now go home. You're drunk.”

His hands covered his face as he suddenly crumbled. “What am I gonna do? I've made such a mess of things.”

Carly sighed. “C. J., we've been through this before. You need help. You're addicted to gambling. Your drinking doesn't help matters.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He shook his head. “You don't know the half of it. Only Jake knows. Good ol' Jake.” The lines in his face grew deeper, darker. “He'd better never tell.” C. J. turned bloodshot eyes on her and shoved a finger under her nose. She stumbled slightly as she took a step back. “He never told you, right?”

“No, C. J., Jake hasn't told me anything.”

She'd never seen him this way. It frightened her. No wonder he didn't want her to date Jake. He knew something that C. J. didn't want her to know. She took a bold step toward him and touched his arm. “C. J., let's talk about it.”

His gaze pierced her soul. “I can't. Not now. Not ever.”

She tightened her grip on his arm. “Did you drive here?”

He nodded.

“Do you want to kill someone on top of everything else, C. J.?”

“What do you mean by that?” he snapped, eyes flashing.

“Just that you're drunk and you're driving.”

His head dropped. Her brother had reached the ultimate low. “Go to the garage and get in my car. I'll take you home.”

“Then how will I get to work in the morning?”

Magnolia shuffled into the room waving her dainty finger toward him. “I'll drive behind you and leave your car for you. If you promise not to go anywhere tonight. I'd better not find out you drove that thing or I'll come after you myself.”

C. J. flinched under Magnolia's threatening finger.

“I won't.”

They all piled into the cars and Carly dropped off C. J. while Magnolia dropped off his car.

“You sure you don't want to talk about it?” Carly asked.

“I'm sure,” he said.

“Well, I'm here for you if you change your mind.” Carly hugged him briefly and turned to go.

“Carly?”

She turned back to him. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

“And if you see Rita—well, never mind.”

Scott watched Carly across the room at her
desk. She wasn't her usual perky self. Something was bothering her. He hoped it wasn't the money situation.

He had managed to sell his motorcycle and get a small loan. Already he had slipped some funds back into the expense account a little at a time.

“So are we running tonight?” he asked her.

Carly reluctantly looked up from her computer screen. “Oh, I'm sorry, Scott. I forgot about that. Jake asked me if I would take Katelyn out to dinner.”

“I thought that was his responsibility.” Scott knew he'd better be careful. Carly didn't take lightly to comments about Jake. She was sold on him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Yeah, I did too. But a promise is a promise.”

Okay, that comment told him a lot. The jerk was taking advantage of her, that's what. She'd befriended his daughter and now he wanted her to take over parenting. Scott wished he'd never suggested Katelyn come here. He'd gotten Carly into this mess and he'd have to get her out.

“Listen, Carly, you don't have to do it, you know. He's the dad.”

“I know. Her friends from Chicago have been calling. He's afraid they're going to come down and get her.”

“If he's so afraid, why isn't he staying home with her?”

“Good question. One minute he tells me not to interfere, and the next minute, he acts as though I'm the only one she can talk to.”

“He does what suits him, Carly. Surely you can see that.”

“Yeah, I know. But Katelyn is a good kid. It's just that I'm not her mom and I don't want her to think I'm trying to take her place or something. Who knows where this thing with Jake will end up?”

Did he hear a little doubt in her voice? She'd dreamed of this guy all through high school—though he never noticed her. So when Gary came along, she gave up on Jake. But would she do it again?

Scott got up from his desk and pulled a chair over beside Carly's desk. “Okay, spill it. What's up with you?”

She lifted a faint smile. “You know me too well.” He remained quiet while she twirled a pencil between her fingers. She'd talk when she was ready. “The problem is really C. J.,” she began.

Then she told him about Rita and C. J. and what was going on with them. Scott let her finish, trying to think of what he might say to ease her mind.

Scott reached over and covered her hand with his. “You're doing the right thing by not giving him the money. Just want you to know that.”

They discussed the situation a little and by the time their conversation had ended, Scott had made up his mind that he would go pay C. J. a visit. Maybe it wasn't his place, but he'd known the family long enough, and he felt someone needed to protect Carly. Gary wasn't there to do it, so Scott would step up. It probably wouldn't do any good since C. J. didn't seem to care for Scott all that much, but he had to try. For Carly's sake.

After dinner, Scott pulled up at C. J.'s
house. His car was there, so hopefully that meant he was there too. When he knocked on the door, he heard footsteps inside.

“Be right there,” C. J. called out in his drinking voice. Scott took a deep breath. This wouldn't be easy.

Though he looked surprised upon opening the door, C. J. merely said, “Yeah, what do you want?”

Sure, why bother with formalities? Let's get straight to the point.
“Got a minute, C. J.? I want to talk to you.”

“What ya gonna do, preach to me like everyone else?”

Scott held up his hands. “No hidden Bibles, I promise.”

C. J. grunted and opened the door. “Well, make it quick. I'm going out tonight.”

Given C. J.'s inebriated condition, Scott wondered if he should tie him down. He followed C. J. inside and walked over to the sofa.

“Ya want a drink?”

“No thanks.” Scott sat down.

“Oh, that's right.
You
don't drink.” Disgust rolled off C. J.'s tongue.

“Who told you that?” Not that it mattered, but it just seemed odd that he would know that. It wasn't as though they hung out in the same circles. Maybe Carly had mentioned it?

“Oh, Ivy told me plenty,” C. J. said, lifting his empty glass, ice cubes jostling as he poured another round of whiskey.

“I don't know why Ivy would tell you anything.” This meeting was getting out of hand and he hadn't even mentioned why he had come yet.

“Let's just say when you were working late, me and the little woman got cozy.”

A numb sensation held Scott momentarily in place. Then hot adrenaline poured through his veins while a rapid beat pounded hard against his temples. Cold sweat popped out on his body. This couldn't be true. His wife couldn't . . . wouldn't . . .

But the embezzling. Memories of Ivy coming home late at night, the lame excuses he thought little of back then . . . .

A sneer played on C. J.'s mouth. “It's all coming back to you, eh, Scott?” He lifted his glass in victory.

Scott jumped up and yanked C. J. by the collar of his shirt. “You can be sure there is a God, because if there wasn't, you'd be dead.” He threw C. J. against the sofa. “And stop asking Carly for money. It's time you grew up.” With that, Scott stormed out of the house.

All the way home C. J.'s words crawled
through Scott's mind, tormenting, twisting, taunting. C. J. and Ivy had had an affair. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever really known this woman he'd called wife.

Not that he would put an affair with a married woman past C. J.

Scott clenched his teeth till his jaws ached.

Did Carly know? Seems as though he would have picked up on that.

Then again, it wasn't as though she would come right out and tell him something like that.

Spotting the coffee shop, he decided to pull in and think a bit. It would take some thick coffee to get him through.

He no sooner got his coffee than a female voice called out behind him.

“Scott, honey, good to see you.”

Oh man, why tonight of all nights?

He took a deep breath, turned around, and forced a smile. “Hi, Melissa.”

“Mind if I join you?” Before he could answer, she scooted herself into the seat across from him, all smiles and sparkles.

They'd barely started conversation when Jake walked in and joined them.

“Imagine all of us running into each other on a night like this,” Jake said as though it was the greatest of coincidences. Never mind that they lived in a small town and there was nowhere else to go on a Tuesday night.

“Quite the coincidence,” Melissa agreed, batting her eyelashes at Scott. He just wanted them both to go away so he could think.

“So tell me about yourself, Melissa,” Jake said, his wooden chair groaning beneath him as he settled back into a comfortable position.

Something told Scott this was going to be a long night. So much for helping Carly. Suddenly, he seemed to have enough problems of his own.

“Does it embarrass you to go out with me
like this?” Katelyn asked Carly.

Though things weren't going all that great between Carly and Jake these days, she couldn't hold that against Katelyn. Besides, she really liked the kid. “How do you mean? Like what?”

“Tell me you haven't noticed the yellow. Dad told me I looked like a lemon bar.” Katelyn frowned.

Carly glanced at Katelyn's yellow shirt and pants, shoes, and purse. She smiled. “I used to be the same way.”

“You did?” Katelyn sat up in her seat. “What did you do?”

“One week I wanted to be Karen Carpenter—”

“Who?”

Carly stared at her. “She was a popular singer in the seventies.”

“Oh.”

“Another week I wanted to look just like Marcia Brady. My parents never knew who I would be next.” Carly chuckled.

“Did they get mad at you?”

“Not really. Usually they laughed. They figured I was trying to establish my independence and it would all blow over one day. They were right. Although I do still hum a few bars of ‘Close to You' in the shower.”