Part 18 (1/2)
”Good. I'll call you tomorrow.” With his thumbs, he brushed away the moisture from her cheeks. ”No more tears,” he whispered. ”I hate to see you unhappy enough to cry.”
She bravely tried to smile.
”That's better.” He kissed her gently and so briefly that it felt like a whisper on her lips.
Carrie hugged herself as Peter turned and left. She closed and locked the door.
”Perfect timing. Just finished the dishes,” Mary Ellen called from the kitchen doorway. She walked down the hall and looked at Carrie. ”Hey, what's the matter?”
Carrie swallowed hard, trying to gain her voice. ”Leaving him is going to be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my whole life.”
”I don't understand. Why are you leaving?”
”I'm the wrong woman for him. Totally wrong. Do you think his church would welcome a murderer as their minister's wife?”
Carrie turned and ran up the stairs for the second time that day. Only this time she quietly closed the bedroom door, slipped on her nightgown and climbed in between the cool sheets.
The after-rain scents in the night air filtered through the open window beside her bed. She could even smell the fragrant roses climbing the trellis by the back porch.
The crickets chirped constantly with a rhythm that ultimately lulled her to sleep, but not before she'd made up her mind about what to do with the house. She didn't feel she had a choice. She vowed to set the wheels in motion before she went down to breakfast in the morning.
Taking her chosen course of action would be the second hardest thing she would ever have to do.
Chapter Fifteen.
”You're sure this is all you want from the house, Mary Ellen?”
Carrie and Mary Ellen stood beside the dining room table and looked at the aggregate of mostly sterling-silver pieces, neatly stacked on the corner of the table.
”Yeah. Really. These things a.s.sure me of having a couple of pieces to hand down to each of my girls so they'll have something to remember their great-grandma by. That's all I ask. Grandma already gave me that mutual fund which was more than I ever expected. I'm going to keep it to send the girls to college some day.”
”Grandma would like that.”
”Carrie, I wish you were happier with what she left you. You deserve to be happy because you're the one who's always been here when she needed you. I haven't been able to help with anything.”
”You had to go where Frank went because you knew that was the right thing for you. Grandma knew you loved her.”
Carrie walked with her to the foyer so they could hear the arrival of the Nordstrom's who'd volunteered to drive Mary Ellen to the airport to save her the bus ride. ”I'll pack the things up you're not taking with you now and have them s.h.i.+pped.”
”Have you decided what to do with the house?”
”Yeah.” Carrie inhaled deeply, fighting the weight of her decision. ”I'm going to keep some of the furniture, the pieces I love the best, and sell the rest. I know that if the church ends up buying it, the house will come to life again. A guy like Peter can't stay single too much longer.” She tried to sound light and even accented it with a little laugh, but it fell flat.
”Earth to Carolyn Whitmore. h.e.l.lo in there. This is your sister, Mary Ellen, talking, not some total stranger who might believe this line you're pus.h.i.+ng. I saw that man kiss you last night.” She held up her hands palms-up at Carrie's astonished look. ”So I finished the dishes a little quicker than you thought I did. The point is, how can you kiss a wonderful man like that and then tell me the next morning that you're selling the house for him to live in with some other woman? That man loves you. Even I can see that without him telling me. You love him, too, don't you?”
Carrie looked down at her hands clasped at her waist. To keep from saying, ”Yes,” she bit down on her lips pulled between her teeth until it hurt.
”Of course you do even if you won't say it. And yet you plan to leave him? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
A car horn blaring at the curb precluded any answer to Mary Ellen's angry question.
”There's my ride to the airport and since they were nice enough to drive me, I don't want to keep them waiting. Carrie, please don't do this to yourself. Don't let what Ralph did ruin your life. Peter's a great guy. Give love a chance. Give the people of this town a chance.”
There was nothing Carrie could say to explain in a few seconds. Mary Ellen did not understand. Carrie tried to smile, but didn't feel she was doing a good job of it. Her lips trembled. Tears welled in her eyes.
”Bye, Carrie. Will we see you Christmastime?”
”I'll let you know. If I'm just starting at a new job, I may not get more than the day off.”
”What do you mean 'a new job'?”
Saved by the car horn again, Carrie didn't have time to explain that either. ”Long story. I'll call you.”
”Think about what I said, Carrie. But if you don't change your mind, good luck in whatever you find back in Fargo. You know, you could always move to Denver so we'd be closer.”
Carrie hugged her sister and thanked her for her concern. They picked up the suitcase and the bag containing two small boxes Mary Ellen had packed to take as a carry-on.
”You'll call to let me know you got home safely?” Carrie asked after greeting the Nordstroms and stowing Mary Ellen's things in the car.
”Sure. Talk to you tonight.”
Carrie stood at the road until the car disappeared before she trudged back into the silent house. Her steps on the hallway hardwood floor echoed through the tall-ceilinged rooms.
Looking around, she tried to memorize everything she saw. On the cold and lonely nights ahead in her little apartment, she wanted to be able to close her eyes and mentally walk through the house again and again. She ran her hand over the s.h.i.+ny newel post at the bottom of the wide staircase, remembering how she used to swing on it as a child.
Stepping into the living room, she spotted the photos on the mantle. She and Peter had stood there looking at them while she told him all about her family; Grandma and Grandpa; Mom and Dad; Mary Ellen and her family; and her own university graduation picture. Maddie had once had one of Carrie and Ralph there beside Mary Ellen's. Carrie hoped her grandmother had thrown it out just as she wished she could throw out the memories of their last year. She lifted each photo and looked at the faces staring up at her as she stacked them to set aside to pack.
In the dining room, Carrie opened the gla.s.s door of the wide gla.s.s-front china cabinet that matched the table and chairs. She picked up the little silver teaspoons that Maddie had had for Mary Ellen and then for her when they were babies. She would keep those and try not to wish in the near future that she had children who could use them.
Carrie squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply to compose herself. She'd shed enough tears and yet she had to blink away more. Now she needed to pack up her memories and carry out the remainder of Maddie's wishes.
After consulting the phone book and making a quick trip to the local, trailer-rental place, she came back in an hour with a stack of heavy, corrugated cardboard boxes, padding materials and tape.
The fragrant perfume from the roses greeted her as she pa.s.sed the trellis, as did the lemony wood polish scent at the door. She would always remember the smells of this house and of the fresh air in Sunville in the hot summer or the crisp cold winters, so different from the smell of traffic and cement around her apartment... and she would always remember Peter.
He'd been a rock, she thought, smiling at her unintentional Biblical pun. That was what he was there for, though. He'd told her again just last night. She would do better not to think of him now or she wouldn't get her work done.
Carrie took the first of the flattened boxes stacked against the stairs in the foyer and headed for the dining room. She'd decided to keep the silver flatware with the curly W etched on each piece. The sets were carefully wrapped in special cloth to keep them from tarnis.h.i.+ng. She rolled each bundle in the bubble-wrap before putting them in the box. She knew memories would flood back every time she took the pieces out to polish them.
When someone pounded on the back door, Carrie almost dropped the serving fork she was wrapping. She'd barely gotten up and over to the kitchen when the door swung open.
Peter marched across the floor and grasped her shoulders hard. ”Carrie, why in the world are you doing it?” His face was red and he was breathing hard through his mouth as if he'd run over from his office. He released her suddenly and stepped back. ”I'm sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it more than the run had. ”Can we talk for a minute?”
He pulled out a chair for her and urged her to sit. He stood behind her and stroked her shoulders in warm circles as if to make up for grabbing them moments before.
Carrie had never seen him so upset. ”What is it? What's wrong?”