Bittersweet Surrender Page 8

  “Hey, wait for me,” Scott said.

  Hot tears scalded her eyes and stung her cheeks. Gary had pledged his love forever. But he left her when she needed him most.

  Faster. Faster. Her legs screamed for relief as she left the business district behind and passed an elementary school. A chain-link fence bordered the playground to protect the children. Why hadn’t Gary protected her? She was exposed, raw. He walked away. No, he ran away, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. Inside and out. Like nothing she had ever known.

  Searing pain burned her shins. Onward. Past the cluster of trees, around the bend, past the grocery store, past the pizza parlor.

  Push. Don’t quit. Pain upon pain. Don’t turn back. Keep going.

  Was it her? Was it the cancer? Was it her body? Too grotesque and mangled? Too hideous to endure?

  He was Beauty.

  She was the Beast.

  He probably lived with that woman before they got married. How long had he been seeing her? Was there an affair? Was it possible? Was he searching for a “real” woman?

  Scalding breath climbed her throat. Her lungs burned, her legs felt like drying cement.

  How could she ever think someone might love her again? She was still an embarrassment. The gaping hole was still there, and she couldn’t even afford to get it fixed.

  What was she thinking? Jake couldn’t move here. Not yet. There was no time. No money. She was marked. Unclean. Imperfect.

  Gary had tossed her aside like the Velveteen Rabbit.

  No longer needed.

  No longer wanted.

  No longer loved.

  “Carly, stop.” Scott grabbed her, took one look at her, and pulled her so hard against him she could feel his heart beating against her chest. “I’m so sorry.” While one hand refused to release her, the other stroked her hair, soothing her pain, calming her fears.

  Oh, Lord, please help me . . .

  After a few minutes she pulled herself away and reached into her pockets for a tissue and wiped her nose. “I can’t believe I’m reacting this way. Our marriage wasn’t that great. Still, he was my husband. He promised . . . I thought I had worked through all this. It’s Magnolia and her drums. I’m tired and overreacting.” She lifted a weak smile.

  Scott laughed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Your reaction is understandable. You were married to him. That’s not something you ever get over completely. But the pain will ease with time.” He pulled her gently back into his comforting arms. “For both of us,” he whispered.

  “Hey, brother,” Brian showed up at his front door with food in hand.

  “What’s this?”

  “You had said you would be home today, so I thought I’d bring you Chinese to eat with me. I told you Ellie and the girls left for her parents’ house. I’m bach-ing it, so it looks like you’ll be seeing more of me.” Brian laughed.

  “All right by me.”

  “You seem kind of down today. Everything all right?”

  Scott told him about the situation with Carly and Gary.

  “Oh, that’s tough.” Brian looked toward the paperwork strewn across the dining room table. “Still working, huh?”

  “Yeah. Trying to get Carly’s taxes completed so we don’t have to get another extension.”

  “Problems?” Brian pulled the bowls of fried rice from the paper bag while Scott lifted the chicken broccoli and egg rolls from the other bag.

  “Things were in a mess. But, well, there’s something else.”

  “Yeah?”

  Scott pulled some paper plates from the cabinet. They spread their steamed rice on the plates and then dumped their main course over the top. Scott said a quick prayer over their meal and they dug in.

  “There’s a lot of money going to a supplier. Chocolate Indulgence, I think was the name. An unusually large sum for supplies. I can’t seem to find any invoices to match it up.”

  “So what do you think?”

  “That’s just it—I’m not sure. Soda?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.”

  Scott set to work filling glasses with ice, then brought the drinks to the table. “Ivy recorded the checks, but Carly had to sign them, so I don’t know who actually wrote the checks out.”

  “Why don’t you ask Carly about it?”

  “I may have to if I can’t find the answer. I just hate to bother her. She’s got a lot on her right now.” He speared a piece of broccoli and waved it. “The thing is she’s saving her money for something and is really counting on a big disbursement check. But I don’t think she’s going to get it.”

  Scott and Brian talked over Carly’s business, Brian’s family, and life in general. They had a nice visit, though Scott’s thoughts never strayed too far from Carly and her business. He just hoped she wasn’t hiding something.

  Once back in her room to shower before work, Carly stood at the dark computer. Jake hadn’t written yesterday, which meant he probably wrote late last night. One thing she had discovered early on was that he was a late-night person. Clicking the On button, she turned toward the shower to give the computer time to boot up.

  All through the shower her mind was consumed with thoughts of Gary and the news of his remarriage. Truth be known, she was surprised it hadn’t happened before now, so she had no idea why it hit her so hard. Maybe it was the fact he had married someone younger, shapelier, more beautiful. Maybe it was the moving to Estes Park. Their place. Now he was sharing it with someone else.

  Would it all be different today if not for the cancer?

  She refused to look at herself. Her body had betrayed her.

  Panic sliced through her as she remembered afresh that Jake didn’t know. How did she think she could pull this off? What would ever make her think that a man could love her for who she was rather than what she looked like on the outside? Melissa Winters sprang to mind and the way she and Scott had looked at each other. Carly had been fooling herself.

  One thing for sure: she wasn’t letting Jake around Melissa.

  After smoothing on the new lotion that filled her bathroom with the sweet scent of apples, she dressed, then wandered over to the computer and saw Marine Man had written.

  Hey, Squirt, how’s it going? I’ve had a long day tying up loose ends here. I’m looking forward to being back home. It will be great to get with C. J. again. We sure had some fun times when we were kids. Never had a better friend than your brother. I’ve missed that. So how’s the chocolate spa business? Katelyn can’t wait to see it. She’s into health, spas, and all that. You’ll probably be her hero. She could use one, that’s for sure. Her old man just doesn’t qualify. All of my medals and achievements don’t matter to her. But you and your chocolate spa, now that’s an accomplishment in her book. Well, you take care, and I’ll see you soon. Love J

  His letter disappointed her, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way he referred to the chocolate spa as though it was silly that his daughter was impressed by it. Also, was there anything even remotely in that note that should encourage her toward any romantic inclination on his part? He couldn’t wait to get back home and hang out with C. J.? What about her?

  With a sigh, she spritzed on some hairspray and joined Magnolia in the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said, though her shins hurt and her pride was wounded.

  “Well, look at you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed from your morning run with Scott.”

  Carly could hardly say the same for Magnolia. Despite the fact it was summer, Magnolia had on a soft pink robe and matching fluffy slippers. Sponge curlers dripped from her hair like the last leaves of fall refusing to, well, fall. She yawned and stumbled against the kitchen chair before grabbing a cup of coffee.

  “I must say I’m impressed with how Scott has held you accountable.” Magnolia slipped into her chair and sneezed twice.

  “Yeah, some friend, huh?” Carly yawned.

  “I’ll say.”

  Carly was surprised to hear Magnolia say something nice
about Scott.

  Another sneeze. “What do you have on?” Magnolia asked.

  “Oh, a new lotion I found at the store the other day. Like it?”

  “Oh dear.” The older woman dabbed at her nose. Carly knew all too well what that meant.

  “Is it bothering you, Magnolia?” Of course, Carly knew the answer before she asked, but it was a little ritual they had perfected, so she hated to disappoint.

  Magnolia looked up with sad eyes and sniffed a couple of times for emphasis. “Well, it is a bit strong. I’m afraid it might throw me into a full-blown allergy attack.”

  “Okay, I’ll just go wash it off.”

  Carly grumbled to herself all the way back to her bathroom. This was her house and her lotion, but she couldn’t enjoy either.

  Stripping the sweet scent from her body, she took a minute to regain her composure, then headed back to the kitchen. “Better?”

  Magnolia had poured soy milk over her oatmeal and scooped up a bite. She took a cautious whiff. “Better.”

  Carly grabbed a glass of orange juice from the fridge and a banana from the counter.

  “Why the sudden interest in losing weight?” she asked.

  “Oh, you know, a woman reaches a certain age where you can’t skip a meal and lose five pounds anymore. It takes more work.”

  Boy, was that the understatement of the year.

  “I suppose. As long as I’m eating healthy, I don’t worry too much about my weight.”

  Is there no one left in this world who eats for the sheer enjoyment of food?

  “I want to apologize for the drum episode the other night. I forgot to mention it at lunch, and I’m sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  “You know how I love to try new things?”

  “Hmm. Can’t say that I do.”

  “Well, anyway, right after your father died, I decided to indulge in drum lessons. My therapist told me it would be a good way to work through my grief and anger. I figured I’d go downstairs while you were sleeping and that way it wouldn’t interrupt your work.”

  Carly noticed Magnolia had never bothered to tell her she was playing the drums before she moved in.

  “It is helping me emotionally.”

  “Maybe I should buy a bongo set and join you.”

  Magnolia’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re all right with the drums?”

  “What can I say, Magnolia? I mean, your therapist tells you it will help, you think it’s helping, so who am I to stand in your way?” Merely the owner of this house that once was quiet, peaceful, and roomy. Besides, remembering her own emotional outburst this morning made Carly realize working through one’s anger was a good thing. Hopefully, one day she would get there.

  “Well, I’ll be at the Vermont Historical Society meeting this afternoon if you need me,” Magnolia said.

  “Thanks, but I should be fine. I have a morning appointment, and this afternoon I plan to soak in a hot tub, then curl up with a good book.”

  A pleasant smile graced her stepmother’s lips. “Sounds delightful. I have plenty of great old books if you want to look through them.”

  “Thanks, but I have a couple that I bought at the library sale.”

  A strand of gray had slipped from one of Magnolia’s curlers dangling across her forehead. “Oh, nonfiction?”

  “No, fiction,” Carly said happily.

  With a grumble about what this world was coming to, Magnolia got up and rinsed out her bowl. “For the life of me I can’t understand why people would want to waste their precious time reading stories when there’s so much out there to learn.”

  “One can learn from fiction as well, Magnolia.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Settings, insight to people, life lessons, to name a few.”

  “To each her own.” Magnolia dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. “Do you have any pain reliever? I’m afraid I have a headache. The smell of chocolate always gets to me,” she said unabashedly.

  Carly frowned. “I can’t smell anything.”

  “I suppose that’s why you’re able to run a chocolate spa.” Magnolia smiled sweetly, then rubbed her temples.

  Carly rummaged until she found a bottle of pain relievers. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Magnolia poured a couple into her palm. “I really need to find a good herb for my headaches,” she said good-naturedly.

  “I suppose,” Carly said.

  “But if that chocolate gives me headaches, it could possibly be bothering your customers, Carly, dear.” Magnolia seemed to have developed a cold during the conversation. Her voice sounded as though her nose was clipped with a clothespin.

  “Magnolia?”

  She turned to Carly. “Yes?”

  “Mind if I play your drums?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You know, I was just thinking, you should offer the healthy kind of chocolate in your spa,” Magnolia said, dabbing at her nose with a red-and-white checkered handkerchief.

  Carly wanted to ask if there was such a thing, but then she thought that might be admitting guilt. “Oh, and which one is that?”

  Magnolia stopped dabbing her nose and looked at Carly pointblank, “Well, the dark chocolate, of course. It has antioxidants that are good for the heart.”

  Carly liked dark chocolate, but she didn’t know about the health benefits. If she dared let on that she didn’t know, she would be here until Magnolia had offered every last morsel of her wisdom. If only Carly could suck it from her brain in one fell swoop and be done with it.

  “Seems to me I heard that somewhere.” That was the truth. She had heard it. Just now. From Magnolia.

  “Well, you should give it some serious thought. It might help you draw in the healthy crowd and most likely even an older group of ladies as well.”

  By the time the day was spent and Carly slipped into her bed later that night, the idea of dark chocolate in her spa had been rolling around in her mind for quite some time. Women liked the idea of being pampered in the spa, but they also liked to challenge their skin. Bittersweet chocolate could do both.

  It was times like this she really missed Ivy. Her friend had always been the entrepreneur, excited about ways to grow the business, the next big thing.

  “I think this just might be what we need to turn the spa around,” she said to Pinkie as the dog curled onto her bed, ignoring Carly completely.

  seven

  Carly’s legs ached with every step as she climbed to her home above the spa. She wasn’t sure if it was the wooden boards or her legs that were creaking. Weekends seemed to fill women with stress and send them running to the spa come Monday. Today was no exception.

  She had also done so much research on the benefits of dark chocolate she could write a book. The wheels were in motion, and she had ordered new product that would be there soon. Hopefully, it would bring in more business.

  Right now, all Carly wanted to do was push a romantic comedy disk into the DVD player and soak her feet in the new foot therapy product she had purchased today. Though most days she resented Magnolia taking over her kitchen, she hoped tonight that her stepmother had prepared—and not burned—dinner, because Carly was just too tired to do so. If she hadn’t prepared it, Carly decided she would crawl into the kitchen, grab a bag of chips, and call it a day. Diet or no diet.

  “Oh, you look tired,” Magnolia said when Carly reached the top stair and practically spilled into the living room.

  “I’m exhausted.” Carly sagged onto the sofa with extra drama in case Magnolia hadn’t cooked dinner, hoping she’d get the hint.

  “Well, you just rest. I have a big kettle of herb vegetable soup simmering on the stove. It will be ready in about a half hour.”

  “You’re wonderful, Magnolia,” Carly said, meaning it. As long as it wasn’t tofu, she was good.

  Magnolia headed back to the kitchen and it seemed Carly
had barely closed her eyes before the tangy scent of herbs and cooked vegetables lifted from a savory broth and lured her into consciousness. Her eyes blinked open. Magnolia was inches from her face, the worry lines between her eyebrows begging for cold cream. She jumped back, knocking over a glass of water with lemon that she had put on the coffee table.

  “Carly Westlake, you nearly scared me to death.”

  Wrinkled, sagging skin mere inches from my face, and she said I scared her? I just refuse to go there.

  Brows still furrowed, hands on her hips, she said, “I couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

  “I was until you startled me.”

  Magnolia cleaned up the ice cubes from the floor and dropped them back into the glass. “Well, better eat your soup before it gets cold.”

  She got another glass, then rejoined Carly. After praying, she scooped up a spoonful of broth and vegetables. “I’ve had such a busy day,” she began.

  The soup actually tasted pretty good. It wasn’t burned, and it seemed to have all the appropriate ingredients. Either Carly was getting used to Magnolia’s cooking, or she was too tired to care.

  “Magnolia, I’m sorry to interrupt, but before I forget to say it, I just want you to know I really appreciate what you’ve been doing around here.” Carly kept her gaze averted from the clutter of furniture. “You don’t have to fix dinner every night. In fact, I enjoy cooking once in a while—”

  “I enjoy it,” Magnolia said with a wave of her hand.

  Carly wondered if she’d ever see her kitchen again. She’d need to think on that. It might not be a bad thing.

  “You work all day, so there’s no reason why I can’t have a decent dinner waiting on you.”

  Decent being the key word here.

  “Besides, it’s the least I can do. I’m really excited about the herb garden. Did I tell you about it? The landscapers—”

  Just then the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Carly said before Magnolia could jump up. She didn’t want to abuse her stepmother’s kindness. Besides, it was her own phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Squirt.”

  The herb vegetable soup shook loose from its comfortable mid-belly position and plunged rock bottom with a thud. Energy seeped through her tired self.