Bittersweet Surrender Read online

  She was almost through her rant by the time Scott stepped back into the office.

  “So did you get things smoothed over?” she asked, cheerfully denying the smoldering anger that wanted to deck him for acting like a man.

  “I would say so.” He was practically rocking on his heels. The goofy grin on his face made Carly want to bop him. “Melissa’s friend had already picked up the prescription and given it to her when she got in the car.”

  They had certainly become fast friends. Carly’s eyebrows spiked. “Melissa?”

  “Isn’t that her name?” He slid into his chair.

  “Just seems sort of chummy since you hardly know her.”

  “What do you want me to call her?”

  Carly considered telling him “Ms. Z-Cup,” but decided against it.

  “Besides, I’ve seen her around here, talked to her a little. It’s not like she was a complete stranger.”

  Could something be developing here? So, Mr. I-don’t-want-another-woman was changing his tune. “Gonna ask her out?”

  He shrugged.

  That idea bugged the daylights out of her. Carly didn’t doubt that another woman might not understand their relationship. Ivy had been part of their friendship, so it worked, but another woman might be resentful and that just made Carly sad. She didn’t want to lose another friend. Especially to Melissa Winters.

  “What? You don’t think I’m ready?”

  “I didn’t say that. Only you can answer that. But Melissa? She doesn’t seem your type.”

  “Why not?”

  “Overly confident?”

  “Nothing wrong with a little confidence.”

  Carly suspected she didn’t do anything “little.” She wasn’t sure she liked the way he was looking at her. “‘Little’ being the key word here.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason she acts that way. Maybe she’s overcompensating for insecurities.”

  Oh, she was overcompensating, all right, but Carly didn’t think it had to do with insecurities. “Why would a woman like that ever have a problem with self-confidence?” She told herself to pull in her claws.

  “A woman like what?”

  Did he want her to spell it out?

  “We don’t know her past,” he said.

  Oh, please. What would she have to complain about? He knew what Carly had been through and he was defending Melissa’s perfect self? “It’s not as though I’m attacking her, Scott. Why are you defending her?”

  “I’m just saying we don’t know much about her and yet you’re making these assumptions.”

  “Whatever.” Carly resented her flaunting her boo—flaunting her black hair and shiny dark eyes fringed with those pretty little ol’ lashes, and him falling for it. Guys were such idiots.

  After her run-in with Scott, massaging sea salts into her client’s skin was the perfect outlet for Carly. Right now she could single-handedly scrub the paint off a barn, but she was careful not to scrub too vigorously. They couldn’t afford to keep giving out certificates for free massages.

  Scott’s defense of Melissa bothered her to no end. If it were anyone but her, she wouldn’t care in the least, but something about that woman just grated on Carly’s nerves.

  She had seen her type before. Able to get any guy she wanted, high school homecoming queen, cheerleader, lots of money and jewels at her disposal. Life had been handed to her on a silver platter.

  Carly wondered how Melissa would react to a mastectomy.

  “Oh, that’s a little rough,” the customer said.

  “I’m sorry.” Lessening the pressure, Carly continued the scrub.

  She didn’t know why she was so bitter about it all. It wasn’t as though it was Melissa’s fault she was beautiful. Carly suspected the real problem was with herself. She wasn’t happy with the way she looked, to say nothing of the fact that Jake would be there in no time and she hadn’t lost a stinkin’ pound. It had not been a week yet, so maybe that was normal.

  Desperation swelled in her chest. It was time to get serious about this weight thing. Scott was right. No pain, no gain. If Melissa could look that good, so could Carly.

  Okay, so it will take a major overhaul by a plastic surgeon, but still, it could happen.

  “You know where the showers are, right?” Carly asked the lady, who had now pretty much molded into the table.

  “Um, yes.”

  “There are robes in the room, so grab one after your shower and meet me back here in ten minutes.”

  One of these days maybe they’d afford one of those Vichey capsules where the shower was built into the machine. Yeah, right, in her dreams. Ivy would have found a way to get one. She was so innovative, and she’d been so good at making the spa the best.

  She slipped from the treatment room and headed for her office long enough to see if she had any pressing calls. Magnolia was waiting in the office when Carly got there.

  “Oh, good, I was hoping to catch you before I left,” she said.

  “Hi, Magnolia. What do you need?”

  She watched as Carly flipped through her messages.

  “The library is having their annual book sale, and I wondered if you wanted to go over there with me and take a look.”

  Wow, they were going to have an actual stepmother/stepdaughter moment. “Oh, I forgot about that. Yeah, I would like to go.” A quick glance at her appointment book. “I have a facial this afternoon at three. Could we be back by then?”

  “Sure. How about we grab lunch, sneak over to the library, then plan to have you back around two thirty?”

  Carly glanced at her watch. “I think that would work. I’d better find Scott and let him know. I’ll join you outside in about five minutes, will that work?”

  “Perfect.”

  Carly’s heart squeezed with one look at her stepmother. The hem of her skirt had unraveled on the back side, causing it to dip lower than the front. In short, she looked lopsided. Carly cocked her head to get a straight view and smiled. Magnolia drove her crazy—even made her mad sometimes, but Carly loved her. ’Course, she had to love family.

  “Have you seen Scott?” Carly asked one of the workers.

  She hadn’t.

  Carly continued down the hallway. Yesterday she had picked up a pedometer from the store to keep track of her steps. She had all of twelve hundred steps in today. According to an article she read, she needed around ten thousand steps to lose weight. Something told her this would take more than her usual trips to the refrigerator.

  The bold scent of ammonia and hair color perfumed the air as she slipped past the salon chair, where a woman was getting a highlight. Strands of hair wrapped in foil gave her an alien appearance. Carly marveled at what women went through to be beautiful.

  Scott came through the basement door and almost ran into Carly. He glanced at her hands. “No iron?”

  “Coast is clear,” Carly said. “Besides, I’m out of starch.”

  “I’m allergic to starch so it’s just as well. Oh, speaking of allergies, Melissa called and she’s feeling better.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Carly said, walking faster.

  “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

  “I’m meeting Magnolia for lunch and then we’re going to the library book sale. I’ll be back around two thirty, in time for my three o’clock facial. Thought I should let you know.”

  Scott studied her a moment. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem a little . . . upset.”

  “I’m going to lunch with Magnolia.”

  He laughed. “Guess I should pray for you, huh?”

  “It would be nice.”

  “Or maybe I should pray for Magnolia?”

  Carly tried to slug him on the arm, but he jumped out of reach. Once they got to the office, Carly grabbed her purse. “See you later.”

  Magnolia and Carly decided on a little cafe downtown near the library. The inside was a bit dingy, but they had wooden round tables
set up outside in a cozy patio setting. Trumpet vines crawled and tangled about a brick border while petunias tumbled from enormous bright-colored tubs at every corner. The lunch fare consisted of cold sandwiches and salads, which suited Carly today. Magnolia ordered a barbecued tofu sandwich and water with lemon. As appetizing as that sounded, Carly decided on a spinach salad and unsweetened iced tea—into which she planned to dump a boatload of sweetener.

  “This is nice, Magnolia. Thanks for the invitation.”

  Her stepmother smiled as though she was pleased with herself. “This was one of Ivy’s favorite places to eat,” she said, looking around.

  “Really?” They were best friends and Carly never knew her to come downtown all that much.

  Magnolia looked surprised. “You mean she never brought you here?”

  Carly shook her head.

  “Well, she liked to come at lunchtime during the week, and you would have been too busy,” Magnolia said.

  “That’s true.”

  They talked about the way the village was changing, especially the downtown square, and how much more activity was going on in town these days. Smitten’s popularity had spilled over to Spring Creek since it was the nearest town.

  “My brother’s photography studio is a couple of streets over,” Carly said.

  “I knew it was around here somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where. He has quite a business for himself from what I understand,” Magnolia said as the server placed the meals in front of them.

  Before Carly could comment, Magnolia prayed over their meals.

  Once Magnolia finished, Carly spread a napkin across her lap and said, “C. J. does very well for himself. It helps that the school system uses him for the kids’ pictures.”

  “I’m sure it does.”

  After Carly got past staring at the tofu sandwich, she studied Magnolia a moment. Sometimes her impatience struggled with Magnolia’s blunders, but the woman had been through a lot, so Carly needed to cut her some slack.

  “You doing all right, Magnolia? I mean, really?”

  Her stepmother looked up. “Oh, I’m fine. Not that I don’t miss my daughter and your father, but life goes on.” She said that with a flippant air, but Carly couldn’t help feeling there was more simmering beneath the surface.

  “They say it goes on, but sometimes I wonder.”

  Magnolia put her sandwich down and stared at Carly.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  Magnolia nodded. “I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. What your husband did to you was unspeakable, but the best thing you can do is put that behind you.”

  “You don’t just blot out twenty years of your life.”

  Magnolia lifted her drink to her lips and took a sip, leaving red lipstick behind on the glass. “You do what you have to do. You’re too young to dwell on the past.”

  Magnolia looked and acted innocent, but Carly had a feeling underneath all the frumpy clothes was the determination of a pit bull.

  Somehow they managed to move past that discussion and talk about the surging tourism in Smitten, the little village down the road. The villagers had done amazing things in such a short time. Sometimes Carly wondered if she should move her spa to Smitten, but then, it already had its own. Before long they ended up at the library where Carly found a couple of treasures and Magnolia, with the help of a library clerk, hauled four boxes of dusty books to her car.

  Carly didn’t even want to think about where all those books were going.

  six

  Most people slept in on Saturday mornings, but when your mentor thought he was Richard Simmons, no.

  Before changing from her pajamas to her sweats, Carly spotted the scales in the bathroom and stripped down to her skivvies. Checking the dial to make sure it was smack-dab on zero, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped up. Perspiration paraded across her forehead and her mind focused on clouds, cotton candy, anything she could think of that was light and airy. Taking a deep breath, she squinted one eye open. Another deep breath and her second eye cracked slightly.

  The thought occurred to her to pray, but that wouldn’t be fair. After all, God would only do in her what she allowed Him to do.

  Her chin slowly dipped south. Before she could work up a good anxiety attack, the marker came into perfect view. With one glance, she was practically moved to tears. The marker had actually moved to the left ever so slightly—not quite a pound’s difference, mind you, but it was definitely tilting toward its western neighbor. Carly would take what she could get.

  Feeling rather upbeat, she happily shrugged on her sweats, swept her hair up into a ponytail, and headed downstairs to the spa lobby. “I’m ready,” she said when she saw Scott.

  “Well, you’re looking chipper.”

  Did he have to use the word chipper? That just reminded her of, well, chips. Victory was so close. A pound was just within reach; she could feel it.

  For a moment she wavered with whether to tell him of her diet achievement—a half a pound was a half a pound, after all—but she decided against it. He might tell her he’d lost five pounds and that would just depress her.

  The sky sparkled with sunlight. A slight wind tickled a cluster of yellow irises and dark red peonies that fluttered in response. Birds flapped and chirped about from neighboring trees. A fellow business owner—obviously an overachiever since this was Saturday—whistled a happy tune as he strolled up to his office door, coffee cup in hand, gave them a glance and a wave, then disappeared from sight. Normally, Carly never saw Spring Creek waking up in the morning, yet here she was actually enjoying this early morning exercise stuff. Who knew?

  Her mood seemed strong enough to handle what her curiosity wanted to know. “You’ve lost some weight, haven’t you?” She braced herself.

  “A little,” he said between steps.

  “Oh, come on. How much?”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “Yes, it is. Now spill it.”

  “Five pounds.”

  Precisely why she hadn’t told him of her puny half-pound victory. “That’s great, Scott,” she said, wanting to trip him.

  “Remember, I started before you.”

  Her feet kicked into faster gear. “Yeah, right, by what, twenty-four hours?” Her lungs constricted. All air threatened to bail.

  “I think it was more than that. Besides, I don’t cheat.”

  “Don’t beat around the bush, Scott. Just what are you implying?” Her cheeks flapped and breathing had become a luxury she only now truly appreciated.

  He came to a sharp halt, whipped out his cell phone, fingers ready to dial 9-1-1. “You gonna make it?”

  She wasn’t sure if he meant physically or mentally. “I’ll make it,” she growled. “What else are you doing to lose weight?”

  “Lifting a few weights.”

  “Oh, see there. You’re cheating.”

  “I never said I wasn’t going to lift weights.”

  “You didn’t say you were.”

  He shook his head. “So how are things going with Lover Boy?” he asked.

  “We’re friends, Scott.” ’Course, she hoped to change that once he got there.

  “But you’d like it to be more?”

  Well, duh. “Maybe.” Still working on getting air, that was the only word she could come up with.

  He didn’t say anything. Maybe he’d run out of breath too.

  “What? You still don’t think I’m ready?”

  “Only you can answer that.”

  Oh, sure, he was ready to date, but he thought she wasn’t? Thoughts of Gary flooded her mind. He had been under a lot of pressure with their tool and die business. The car industry wasn’t moving quickly, and it caused business to slow way down. Couple that with her cancer journey and it all proved too much for him. He sold the business at a loss, tied everything up nice and neat before he left, and that was that. Twenty years together reduced to a divorce decree.

  That had been two years ago, and she h
adn’t heard from him since.

  “Scott, do you ever hear from him?” Scott and Gary had been pretty good friends before Gary got out of Dodge. Scott, Ivy, Gary, and Carly had, at one time, been inseparable. They had a history that dated back to high school.

  “If by ‘him’ you mean Gary, yeah, every now and then he shoots me an e-mail.”

  “How’s he doing?” she asked, acting only half interested. Not that she cared one way or the other. Their marriage was never ideal.

  Scott looked at her. “You sure you want to know?”

  A sick feeling swelled inside her like a tornado gaining momentum. “Did he find someone else?” she finally asked when she found the nerve. Why should she care?

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How serious?”

  Scott stopped running, causing her to do the same. “Carly, Gary got married last month.” One look at her face, and he placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. It was bound to happen.” Most likely the woman had plenty of curves in all the right places. She took a deep breath and started jogging again. “Is she anyone I know?”

  “No. He lives in Colorado now. He met her there.”

  “Colorado. Estes Park?”

  Scott looked surprised. “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “We were going to move there once he retired. Seems odd, I know, with older people going south, but we loved the quiet village feel of it all. We loved nature, skiing, all that, so it seemed a perfect place. We vacationed there a lot, don’t you remember?”

  “Yeah, I guess I’d forgotten that.”

  “He probably married that young thing he flirted with at the Egg and I where we went for breakfast,” she said with a forced laugh.

  Scott’s expression turned somber. He didn’t say a word.

  She stopped this time and grabbed his arm. “He didn’t.”

  “He told me she was a waitress there.”

  The air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs. Nausea radiated through her stomach.

  “You all right, Carly?”

  She had curves in all the right places. Her feet pushed hard against the pavement. Faster. Faster.