CHAPTER SIXTEEN
(Copyright 2009, Anita Birt)
Greg left the party shortly after Caroline. Why the big secret about her past? He'd felt like a damned fool when Tansy surprised everyone by remembering Caroline from their student days at Markbridge High.
How many times had he been with her and hadn't made the connection? So much for his photographic memory.
His memory of Kate Southern was sporadic. She'd been in his classes all through high school. A brilliant student. Very reserved. All he could recall for sure was her hair. She'd had a long braid. He'd yanked it once and she'd decked him. Must have been when they were thirteen or fourteen before he shot up to six feet.
A flash of memory caught him by surprise. He remembered the color of her eyes, blue shading to violet. Where had that come from?
He'd heard her father had smashed up his truck one Christmas Eve and died at the scene. Why hadn't he tried to speak to her then? She must have been devastated.
He hadn't known Kate at all until their final year in school. They'd tied as top students in their class and been chosen to represent Markbridge High at a political debate in Ottawa with schools from across Canada.
Greg drove home slowly and felt bad. She'd never been part of his crowd, the in clique. You were in or you were out. Most of the guys on the football team and the girls who hung around with them came from families who could afford skiing holidays in the winter and trips to Europe in the summer.
Memories flooded back.
Kate worked after school and on holidays. He'd seen her checking out groceries in the market on weekends and pumping gas at the local Shell station on week nights. Not once when he went for a fill of gas had he paid any attention to her except to say, "hi." She might as well have been invisible.
He parked his car in the garage and walked down to the swing. His last memory of Kate Southern was of her wrapped in a sheet, huddled in bed beside him, crying.
Hell, he hadn't known she was a virgin. At eighteen? The girls he'd known had lost their virginity years before eighteen.
He'd used a condom, the only one he had. Greg propped his head in his hands. Kate had wanted more after the first time. He should have stopped. She'd had too much to drink with some of the kids at the party. So had he.
She'd climbed on top of him and pressed her breasts against his mouth. He'd latched on to her nipples like there was no tomorrow.
His testosterone fuelled erection had been rock hard. She'd arched up and taken him deep inside her.
Greg winced. If he'd had a lick of sense he'd have rolled out of bed and headed for a cold shower but her quivering response lured him on. He'd come with a bed rocking rush, removed the condom and slipped back inside her for a second go round before they fell asleep.
What a mess. It wasn't love. It was stupid teen sex, horny and irresponsible like a pair of rutting animals.
The morning after was a disaster. She blamed him for what happened. He blamed her for inviting him into her room.
He remembered apologizing. At the time he thought they were both responsible. After they'd returned home and graduated she'd avoided him and he hadn't attempted to speak with her. He'd gone out west to work in the oil fields for the summer before starting university in the fall.
Would things have been different if he'd made the effort to call on her? Greg leaned back on the swing. Was Caroline's prickly attitude because he'd taken her virginity thirteen years ago? Is that why she hadn't told him who she was?
Did the memory embarrass her?
He'd forgotten it until tonight. Now it played like a bad movie inside his head. If what happened in Ottawa still bothered her they could talk it over now like mature adults.
Easier said than done, he thought, but giving up on Caroline wasn't in the cards. He got off the swing and walked up on the veranda. Kim whined behind the front door.
"Quiet." He turned the key in the lock. He didn't want the dog to wake his mother or Davie.
Kim wagged her tail and followed him to the kitchen. Greg closed the door behind them. It was nearly midnight. He picked up the phone.
Damn, he didn't have her home number.
Okay, he'd park outside her house in the morning and wait for her to leave or he'd ring the bell if she didn't appear by nine o'clock.
He had to find out what was bugging her so he could clear the air between them.
* * * * *
A persistent ringing jolted Caroline awake. Bleary eyed from a restless night she propped her elbow on the bed and inspected the clock radio. Nine o'clock! She clapped her hands over her ears.
"Go away," she moaned. Her head ached. She felt like death.
The bell pealed again. With murder in her heart, she got out of bed and stamped to the intercom. "I don't want anything. I'm not interested in religion. I'm sleeping."
"Caroline, I have to talk to you."
"Now?" She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. After last night's disaster Greg was not on her radar. Not today. Maybe never.
"I've picked up two cartons of coffee and bran muffins. We have to talk."
"I'm not dressed and it's too early to talk."
She heard his intake of breath. "I've been up most of the night thinking about you."
"Too bad." She massaged her forehead to clear away the cobwebs threading around her brain.
"I'll stay out here all day and ring your doorbell every two hours until you let me in. We have to talk."
He had her over a barrel. "Okay. You win because I don't want you bothering the neighbors in the building."
She pressed the door release. "Leave the food in the kitchen." She hurried to the bedroom.
Snatching underwear from the bureau drawer on the way to the bathroom she stopped long enough to snap the bra together and step into the panties. She ran cold water in the basin, stuck her head in and splashed herself awake.
Dried off, her hair combed, she put on the navy shirt and shorts she'd worn at the barbecue. Damned if she'd meet him wearing a robe, that would put her at a disadvantage.
In the mood for a knock'em down drag'em down fight she walked slowly to the kitchen.
"Good morning," Greg said.
His cheerful "good morning" did nothing to ease the miserable headache lurking behind Caroline's eyes. He'd hauled her out of bed way too early on her day off and she wasn't in the mood to be polite.
The mouth-watering aroma of fresh coffee teased her taste buds. A caffeine fix would wind her up to deal with him.
She collected plates from the cupboard, opened the bag of muffins and placed two on each plate. "I'll take these. You bring the coffee. We'll sit in the living room."
He followed her. She put the plates on the table next to his roses and sat on the sofa with her back straight and her bare feet planted firmly on the floor. A fighting stance. Ready to spring at him if necessary.
He handed her a cup of coffee and sat on the chair facing her.
This isn't real, Caroline thought. It's as if they were actors in a play waiting for the curtain to go up before speaking their lines. She'd hear what he had to say before launching into her part.
She pried the lid off the cup and sipped some coffee.
Greg broke the silence. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"
"I thought you'd guess. When you didn't I hoped I'd never see you again."
"You did, several times. I don't understand why the big secret. Why you couldn't play straight with me."
"Play straight with you? You still don't get it, do you?" Too stressed to take another bite, she put the muffin back on the plate. Her shoulders tensed.
"Right, I don't get it." His dark eyed gaze never left her face.
"Okay, I'll tell you. You remember Kate Southern. You remember." Caroline bit her lip. "You remember going to Ottawa with her. With me."
"We were on the debating team."
His attitude burned her. So casual. So cocky. Anger smoldered in her gut. "Remember after the party we ended up in my bed." Saying the words sickened her. Sex with Greg had almost ruined her life.
He leaned forward in his chair. "Of course, I remember. You invited me into your room. We made love."
Caroline stormed to her feet. Coffee splashed on her shirt. She put the cup on the table. "Is that what it was? Love making? Get real. It was raw sex and meant nothing to either of us. I wish I could forget but I can't. You didn't care what happened to me afterwards, did you?" She knuckled her fists into her eyes to stop the tears.
"I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't know you were a virgin."
Caroline's pent up fury erupted. "Your apology is thirteen years too late! I told you I was pregnant. I asked for help. You said, have an abortion and dumped me."
She clasped her arms around her waist and turned away from him. "Get out of here. I never want to see you again."
Shocked by her hit and run punch Greg struggled to understand what she'd said. "What are you talking about? What pregnancy?" How could he have dumped her? They hadn't spoken to each other after they'd returned home from Ottawa. He set the coffee cup on the table and stood.
Caroline whirled to face him. "Our pregnancy. I was the unlucky one in the equation wasn't I? You got off scot-free. You didn't have the courage to tell me yourself. You sent your father to offer me money to pay for an abortion."
She stalked to the window, tweaked a dead bloom from a pink geranium and crushed it between her fingers. "He offered to pay the fees for my first year at university. I told him what I thought of you and him and went to the Toronto clinic on my own."
Dropping the crumpled bloom on the sill, she stalked back to him. "Please leave. I've nothing more to say to you."
Caroline's surprise attack had caught him off guard. What the hell was going on? She'd hit him below the belt and left him hanging on the ropes. Why the mystery about his father? What did he have to do with Kate Southern? When had she met him? Greg sucked air into his lungs.
"I'm not going anywhere until I know what you're talking about. You're not making sense. How was I supposed to know you were pregnant? Nobody told me anything about an abortion. How was I supposed to know? I was working on an oil rig in Alberta all summer." He hesitated. "Are you sure I was responsible?"
"Don't do this to me! I went through hell because of you." She clenched her fists, rushed at him and thumped his chest. "Get out of my apartment. I don't want you in my space. You're a liar and a cheat and..."
He grasped her wrists. "I'm staying until you hear what I have to say. I did not know you were pregnant. Are you listening to me? I did not know."
He released her hands and sucked in more air. "Look at me. Blink if you heard what I said."
If she was telling the truth his father had betrayed them. Greg's stomach lurched. Ever since he'd met Caroline he'd been quietly falling in love with her. He'd come round with coffee and muffins hoping to clear the air between them. Instead of clearing the air, he'd made things worse by insisting on seeing her.
"You are telling me you didn't know I was pregnant and I'm supposed to believe you. Your father said he spoke to you and you urged me to have an abortion."
"Stop right there. The only time my father phoned when I was out west was to tell me I'd won a university scholarship. When did you talk to him?"
"As soon as I knew I was pregnant I went to your home and told your father." A bitter smile tightened her lips. "We sat on the veranda. He didn't invite me in. He heard what I had to say and promised to phone you. He wouldn't give me your number so I could call you myself."
Caroline heaved a sigh. "Then he came to my house. My mother had died from breast cancer two months before high school graduation. I had no one to turn to. Your father said..."
Words stuck in her throat. She rubbed her chest to ease the pain in her heart. "He said you didn't want the baby. He said you were too young to be a father. He said it would be better for both of us if I had an abortion. I couldn't do it. My innocent baby deserved to live."
Bruised and hurting, memories returned to sadden her. Why did he have to come back to Markbridge? Seeing him had opened up a Pandora's Box of old wounds.
Abandoned.
Alone.
She had forgiven herself.
She would never forgive him.
Never.
She wouldn't break down now. Not in front of him. She'd cried rivers of tears thirteen years ago when she gave up the baby for adoption. Suicide hadn't been far from her thoughts until she came to her senses. She had to live for her mother's sake.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Dickens and Me
NOTE: I shall be away on Friday, May 22nd. Watch for CHAPTER SIXTEEN on Tuesday, May 19 – unless I forget to post it!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
(Copyright 2009 Anita Birt)
Dr. Moreland crossed the patio to greet her. "You're looking very lovely, Caroline. How was your day?"
"Busy. You know what summer Saturdays are like."
"Indeed I do. Now what can I get you to drink?"
"A white wine, thanks."
Tansy shifted sideways on her chair and gazed at Caroline. "You remind me of..."
She propped her elbow on the armrest, cupped her chin in her hand and studied Caroline's face. "The second you walked through the door I knew I had seen you somewhere. It's the way you hold your head. Tell me if I'm wrong but you remind me of Kate Southern, smartest girl in Markbridge High."
No point dodging the bullet. "Thank you for remembering me." Caroline wondered how she held her head that was so remarkable. Greg hadn't remembered. Maybe women noticed things men didn't.
Tansy sat back and crossed her arms over her very pregnant stomach. "It's your eyes. You used to look right through me as if I didn't exist. I'll bet you set this meeting up to surprise us."
"What did she set up?" Mark asked and handed Caroline a glass of chilled wine. Drops of moisture beaded the glass.
"I didn't set anything up. I had no idea who was going to be here." She hoped her tight-lipped reply would limit further discussion, if not she had to deal with the situation.
"Does Greg know?" Tansy asked.
"Tansy, what are you two talking about?" Jack called out.
Caroline's hand trembled. Better get it over with. She placed her glass on a small table beside her chair, stood and turned to Dr. and Mrs. Moreland seated nearby.
"I had no idea so many Markbridge High alumni would be here."
"What difference does that make, Caroline? They are all relatives or friends of our family. Are you not feeling well, my dear?"
Dr. Moreland's kindly smile almost wrecked her but she had to finish what Tansy had started. When they heard what she had to say she'd gracefully retreat, head unbowed, held in a certain unmistakable manner.
"I'm fine. I think everyone should know I attended Markbridge High. Tansy made the connection."
"You attended school here? When?" Greg asked.
Caroline lifted her chin. "You and I graduated the same year. You knew me as Kate Southern."
A cone of silence enveloped the group. Free of the burden threatening her the second she'd seen the old school crowd, Caroline relaxed. The worst was over. Still alive and well, she determined to enjoy the evening as best she could.
"This is absolutely wonderful." Mrs. Moreland beamed at her guests. "A surprise reunion, you can all make up for lost time." She rested her hand on her husband's arm.
"Time to fire up the barbecue and, Mark, there are two bottles of Champagne in the fridge. I was saving them for later. I think we should celebrate now."
Greg drew Caroline aside and clasped her hands. "Dr. Balfour, Kate Southern, you've created quite a stir."
"Have I?" She hung on to her frayed nerves. Worse things had happened to her. She'd get through this.
"Why didn't you tell me who you were when we met at the clinic?"
She freed her hands. "What difference would that have made?" She lowered her voice. "I wasn't interested in knowing you and I didn't think you cared to know me."
Jack barged between them. "You've sure changed. I wouldn't have recognized you. I like your hair."
He glanced at Tansy. "How did you put two and two together and make four?"
She pressed her hands over her stomach. "Baby's kicking. Have you any children, Kate? I hope you don't mind if I call you Kate instead of Caroline?"
"I don't mind." She remained standing like a prisoner awaiting a firing squad. "I don't have any children. I'm divorced and kept my ex-husband's name."
Tansy warmed to the subject of Caroline's past as Kate Southern. "You used to fascinate me. You were so smart. Aced everything. I wondered how you did it."
"I worked hard." Caroline said and hoped Tansy would drop the subject.
"Maybe it was because you didn't mix with the rest of us. You always kept to yourself."
Tansy was thick as a plank if that's how she remembered Kate Southern. Ready to spit fire, Caroline controlled her temper. She was a guest of the Moreland's and would not spoil their party to prick Tansy's mistaken assumption about the past.
If she wanted revenge she could enlighten the group about Tansy's reputation as an easy lay. Boys had sniggered about her as she walked past their lockers. "Me next, Tansy." They'd hiss and rub the front of their pants.
Mark stepped out on the patio carrying a tray of Champagne flutes and two open bottles of Dom Perignon. "Come and help yourselves."
He placed the tray on the table, poured two glasses and handed one to Caroline.
"To Caroline/Kate. You and I will stroll in the garden and discuss the future."
"Mark, I'll need help with the barbecue." Dr. Moreland called out. "See if the steaks are marinated and ready to go."
Greg intervened. "In that case, I'll take a glass and walk with Caroline in the garden. We've some catching up to do."
His dark eyes locked on her eyes. "Don't you agree?"
A walk in the garden with Greg for a few minutes was the lesser of two evils. The high school crowd had always ignored her and she had no desire to attract their attention now.
They strolled down the steps and walked slowly along a flagstone path bordered by beds of bright begonias.
"Why didn't you tell me you were Kate Southern when I called at the clinic?"
"I was in shock." Playing for time she paused to breathe in the scent of pink roses blooming on a heavily laden bush. Her self-confidence had taken a hit. Greg's questions rattled her.
"What kind of shock?"
"I'm not prepared to discuss it here. Let's go back and join the others."
"Wait a minute. You and I went to school together. What's so shocking about that?"
Too stressed to argue with him she walked to the end of the garden and paused under the softly swaying branches of a willow tree. She hoped he'd return to his friends and not push her into discussing the past. She couldn't deal with it here.
Surprised to find him close behind her Caroline turned to face him.
"We attended the same school. We were not friends, ever."
"That was thirteen years ago. I didn't recognize you at the clinic but you remembered me so why didn't you introduce yourself?"
Caroline swallowed some Champagne to moisten her dry throat. Didn't he know? Why was he being so dense? "As far as I was concerned there was no reason why I should."
"That was then, how about now? Do you still feel the same way or can we get together, maybe go on a picnic, or have dinner?" He grinned. "I don't bite."
Caroline's carefully laid plans to avoid him had blown apart the minute she stepped on the patio. "I'll give you a call."
"When?"
"Caroline. Greg." Mrs. Moreland waved from the patio. "Time to eat."
Caroline pasted a smile on her face. "Try to look as though we've had a pleasant conversation. I don't want to spoil the party."
"To make us look authentic I'll link my arm through yours as if we're old friends. When are we going to meet?" He glanced at her. "You're not smiling."
"I am smiling." She beamed at him over the rim of her Champagne glass. "Please let go of my arm," she muttered through clenched teeth.
"Not a chance until we reach the patio. Don't grit your teeth it spoils the effect, makes your smile forced."
Caroline resisted the temptation to jab him with her elbow.
He released her arm at the patio steps. "Great to catch up on old times, Caroline. Let's get together soon." He gazed into her eyes almost daring her to refuse.
She handed him her empty glass. "I'll let you know." and ran up the steps.
Mrs. Moreland passed her a plate. "Please help yourself to steak and salad. There's garlic bread in the basket."
Tansy motioned Caroline to sit beside her. "I can't believe Greg didn't recognize you. Maybe it's a female thing. Women notice things men don't. Sometimes they can be so dense it's pitiful."
Dense or a convenient memory, Caroline thought.
Tansy leaned towards her. "Men always notice big boobies like mine. I wore a 38C cup when I was fourteen. The guys drooled over me." She glanced at Caroline's shirt. "What size were you as a teen? You're not very big now."
Feeling silly for taking part in such a personal conversation Caroline stuck her finger in her cheek like a kid trying to remember something. "I'm not sure, 34A or 36A."
"What about now?" Tansy smirked.
"The same." Caroline cut a small piece of steak and ate it. "Doctor Moreland, the steak is delicious."
"My wife's responsible. She makes the marinade. I barbecue."
Caroline concentrated on the food hoping Tansy would change the subject from breasts to something less personal. Her ragged nerves weren't up to discussing bra sizes.
"Are you and Greg an item," Tansy asked.
"No."
"That's too bad. You look good together."
Caroline studied the food on her plate. Linking her with Greg was the last straw.
"Excuse me." Caroline stood and carried her plate to the serving table for more salad.
Greg strolled over to her. "When can we get together?"
"I'm not sure." She picked up a piece of garlic bread and bit into it. "I'm having a wonderful conversation with Tansy."
"About old times?" Greg asked.
"About brassiere sizes." Caroline enjoyed his surprised gaze and walked across the patio to sit with Sarah.
Like a movie filmed in slow motion the rest of the evening crept by on leaden feet.
Eating and fielding questions about her work filled an hour. Did she deliver babies? She did. What was the worst case she'd ever had to deal with? Could not discuss it. How much malpractice insurance did she carry? Jack posed the question.
Dr. Moreland interrupted. "Sorry, that's clinic business." He diverted the discussion away from Caroline.
Conversation swirled around her as coffee, dessert and liqueurs filled another hour. Caroline stuck with black coffee.
Despite her best efforts to discourage him Mark persisted in his attentions and she promised to have dinner with him tomorrow evening.
At eleven she thanked the Moreland's for inviting her, said good-bye to everyone and drove home.
Too restless to sleep she picked up a medical journal to read the latest data on AID'S drugs. In minutes the print blurred and she tossed it aside.
Greg didn't care how badly he'd treated her. His arrogant attitude rubbed salt in her wounded heart. He blamed her for not telling him at the clinic she'd gone to Markbridge High. Why was he pretending that nothing had happened between them?
She bit her lip. Why couldn't he leave her alone? Why pester her about meeting him? He'd dropped her thirteen years ago when she desperately sought his help. Didn't he have a clue what it was like to have no one to hold her hand, to offer a shoulder to lean on?
She'd been eighteen years old, pregnant with his child. He had turned his back on her and left her to cope as best she could.
Tears misted her eyes. If only he had come for her. Talked with her. Spent time with her. They could have worked something out.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
(Copyright 2009 Anita Birt)
Dr. Moreland crossed the patio to greet her. "You're looking very lovely, Caroline. How was your day?"
"Busy. You know what summer Saturdays are like."
"Indeed I do. Now what can I get you to drink?"
"A white wine, thanks."
Tansy shifted sideways on her chair and gazed at Caroline. "You remind me of..."
She propped her elbow on the armrest, cupped her chin in her hand and studied Caroline's face. "The second you walked through the door I knew I had seen you somewhere. It's the way you hold your head. Tell me if I'm wrong but you remind me of Kate Southern, smartest girl in Markbridge High."
No point dodging the bullet. "Thank you for remembering me." Caroline wondered how she held her head that was so remarkable. Greg hadn't remembered. Maybe women noticed things men didn't.
Tansy sat back and crossed her arms over her very pregnant stomach. "It's your eyes. You used to look right through me as if I didn't exist. I'll bet you set this meeting up to surprise us."
"What did she set up?" Mark asked and handed Caroline a glass of chilled wine. Drops of moisture beaded the glass.
"I didn't set anything up. I had no idea who was going to be here." She hoped her tight-lipped reply would limit further discussion, if not she had to deal with the situation.
"Does Greg know?" Tansy asked.
"Tansy, what are you two talking about?" Jack called out.
Caroline's hand trembled. Better get it over with. She placed her glass on a small table beside her chair, stood and turned to Dr. and Mrs. Moreland seated nearby.
"I had no idea so many Markbridge High alumni would be here."
"What difference does that make, Caroline? They are all relatives or friends of our family. Are you not feeling well, my dear?"
Dr. Moreland's kindly smile almost wrecked her but she had to finish what Tansy had started. When they heard what she had to say she'd gracefully retreat, head unbowed, held in a certain unmistakable manner.
"I'm fine. I think everyone should know I attended Markbridge High. Tansy made the connection."
"You attended school here? When?" Greg asked.
Caroline lifted her chin. "You and I graduated the same year. You knew me as Kate Southern."
A cone of silence enveloped the group. Free of the burden threatening her the second she'd seen the old school crowd, Caroline relaxed. The worst was over. Still alive and well, she determined to enjoy the evening as best she could.
"This is absolutely wonderful." Mrs. Moreland beamed at her guests. "A surprise reunion, you can all make up for lost time." She rested her hand on her husband's arm.
"Time to fire up the barbecue and, Mark, there are two bottles of Champagne in the fridge. I was saving them for later. I think we should celebrate now."
Greg drew Caroline aside and clasped her hands. "Dr. Balfour, Kate Southern, you've created quite a stir."
"Have I?" She hung on to her frayed nerves. Worse things had happened to her. She'd get through this.
"Why didn't you tell me who you were when we met at the clinic?"
She freed her hands. "What difference would that have made?" She lowered her voice. "I wasn't interested in knowing you and I didn't think you cared to know me."
Jack barged between them. "You've sure changed. I wouldn't have recognized you. I like your hair."
He glanced at Tansy. "How did you put two and two together and make four?"
She pressed her hands over her stomach. "Baby's kicking. Have you any children, Kate? I hope you don't mind if I call you Kate instead of Caroline?"
"I don't mind." She remained standing like a prisoner awaiting a firing squad. "I don't have any children. I'm divorced and kept my ex-husband's name."
Tansy warmed to the subject of Caroline's past as Kate Southern. "You used to fascinate me. You were so smart. Aced everything. I wondered how you did it."
"I worked hard." Caroline said and hoped Tansy would drop the subject.
"Maybe it was because you didn't mix with the rest of us. You always kept to yourself."
Tansy was thick as a plank if that's how she remembered Kate Southern. Ready to spit fire, Caroline controlled her temper. She was a guest of the Moreland's and would not spoil their party to prick Tansy's mistaken assumption about the past.
If she wanted revenge she could enlighten the group about Tansy's reputation as an easy lay. Boys had sniggered about her as she walked past their lockers. "Me next, Tansy." They'd hiss and rub the front of their pants.
Mark stepped out on the patio carrying a tray of Champagne flutes and two open bottles of Dom Perignon. "Come and help yourselves."
He placed the tray on the table, poured two glasses and handed one to Caroline.
"To Caroline/Kate. You and I will stroll in the garden and discuss the future."
"Mark, I'll need help with the barbecue." Dr. Moreland called out. "See if the steaks are marinated and ready to go."
Greg intervened. "In that case, I'll take a glass and walk with Caroline in the garden. We've some catching up to do."
His dark eyes locked on her eyes. "Don't you agree?"
A walk in the garden with Greg for a few minutes was the lesser of two evils. The high school crowd had always ignored her and she had no desire to attract their attention now.
They strolled down the steps and walked slowly along a flagstone path bordered by beds of bright begonias.
"Why didn't you tell me you were Kate Southern when I called at the clinic?"
"I was in shock." Playing for time she paused to breathe in the scent of pink roses blooming on a heavily laden bush. Her self-confidence had taken a hit. Greg's questions rattled her.
"What kind of shock?"
"I'm not prepared to discuss it here. Let's go back and join the others."
"Wait a minute. You and I went to school together. What's so shocking about that?"
Too stressed to argue with him she walked to the end of the garden and paused under the softly swaying branches of a willow tree. She hoped he'd return to his friends and not push her into discussing the past. She couldn't deal with it here.
Surprised to find him close behind her Caroline turned to face him.
"We attended the same school. We were not friends, ever."
"That was thirteen years ago. I didn't recognize you at the clinic but you remembered me so why didn't you introduce yourself?"
Caroline swallowed some Champagne to moisten her dry throat. Didn't he know? Why was he being so dense? "As far as I was concerned there was no reason why I should."
"That was then, how about now? Do you still feel the same way or can we get together, maybe go on a picnic, or have dinner?" He grinned. "I don't bite."
Caroline's carefully laid plans to avoid him had blown apart the minute she stepped on the patio. "I'll give you a call."
"When?"
"Caroline. Greg." Mrs. Moreland waved from the patio. "Time to eat."
Caroline pasted a smile on her face. "Try to look as though we've had a pleasant conversation. I don't want to spoil the party."
"To make us look authentic I'll link my arm through yours as if we're old friends. When are we going to meet?" He glanced at her. "You're not smiling."
"I am smiling." She beamed at him over the rim of her Champagne glass. "Please let go of my arm," she muttered through clenched teeth.
"Not a chance until we reach the patio. Don't grit your teeth it spoils the effect, makes your smile forced."
Caroline resisted the temptation to jab him with her elbow.
He released her arm at the patio steps. "Great to catch up on old times, Caroline. Let's get together soon." He gazed into her eyes almost daring her to refuse.
She handed him her empty glass. "I'll let you know." and ran up the steps.
Mrs. Moreland passed her a plate. "Please help yourself to steak and salad. There's garlic bread in the basket."
Tansy motioned Caroline to sit beside her. "I can't believe Greg didn't recognize you. Maybe it's a female thing. Women notice things men don't. Sometimes they can be so dense it's pitiful."
Dense or a convenient memory, Caroline thought.
Tansy leaned towards her. "Men always notice big boobies like mine. I wore a 38C cup when I was fourteen. The guys drooled over me." She glanced at Caroline's shirt. "What size were you as a teen? You're not very big now."
Feeling silly for taking part in such a personal conversation Caroline stuck her finger in her cheek like a kid trying to remember something. "I'm not sure, 34A or 36A."
"What about now?" Tansy smirked.
"The same." Caroline cut a small piece of steak and ate it. "Doctor Moreland, the steak is delicious."
"My wife's responsible. She makes the marinade. I barbecue."
Caroline concentrated on the food hoping Tansy would change the subject from breasts to something less personal. Her ragged nerves weren't up to discussing bra sizes.
"Are you and Greg an item," Tansy asked.
"No."
"That's too bad. You look good together."
Caroline studied the food on her plate. Linking her with Greg was the last straw.
"Excuse me." Caroline stood and carried her plate to the serving table for more salad.
Greg strolled over to her. "When can we get together?"
"I'm not sure." She picked up a piece of garlic bread and bit into it. "I'm having a wonderful conversation with Tansy."
"About old times?" Greg asked.
"About brassiere sizes." Caroline enjoyed his surprised gaze and walked across the patio to sit with Sarah.
Like a movie filmed in slow motion the rest of the evening crept by on leaden feet.
Eating and fielding questions about her work filled an hour. Did she deliver babies? She did. What was the worst case she'd ever had to deal with? Could not discuss it. How much malpractice insurance did she carry? Jack posed the question.
Dr. Moreland interrupted. "Sorry, that's clinic business." He diverted the discussion away from Caroline.
Conversation swirled around her as coffee, dessert and liqueurs filled another hour. Caroline stuck with black coffee.
Despite her best efforts to discourage him Mark persisted in his attentions and she promised to have dinner with him tomorrow evening.
At eleven she thanked the Moreland's for inviting her, said good-bye to everyone and drove home.
Too restless to sleep she picked up a medical journal to read the latest data on AID'S drugs. In minutes the print blurred and she tossed it aside.
Greg didn't care how badly he'd treated her. His arrogant attitude rubbed salt in her wounded heart. He blamed her for not telling him at the clinic she'd gone to Markbridge High. Why was he pretending that nothing had happened between them?
She bit her lip. Why couldn't he leave her alone? Why pester her about meeting him? He'd dropped her thirteen years ago when she desperately sought his help. Didn't he have a clue what it was like to have no one to hold her hand, to offer a shoulder to lean on?
She'd been eighteen years old, pregnant with his child. He had turned his back on her and left her to cope as best she could.
Tears misted her eyes. If only he had come for her. Talked with her. Spent time with her. They could have worked something out.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Dickens and Me
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
(COPYRIGHT 2009 Anita Birt)
Greg fed the baby his infant cereal. "What do you think I should do, kid? Give up on her? I get the feeling she's holding back something. Keeping me at arm's length. Why? I don't bite and I shower every day.
"Ma, ma. Da, da."
"Hey you put two sounds together. Maybe that's an omen. Tell you what. When your grandmother's here to look after you, I'll try something different with Caroline."
"Da. Da." Davie squeezed his lips together, shook his head and refused more cereal.
"Not a good idea, is that it?" He gave Davie a wooden spoon and a pot lid to bang on while he had breakfast.
He cleaned up the kitchen and fed the dog and the cats, made up two bottles, put one in the fridge, wiped cereal from the baby's face and carried him outside to rock on the swing.
While Greg held the bottle Davie clasped his little hands around it. Smiling contentedly he studied Greg's face. It'd be nice to have a kid. He was getting like a broody hen anxious to raise chicks of his own.
They rocked in the swing until Davie finished drinking. "Okay, now we're ready to face the world. I'll lock up the house and we'll go to the park. Your grandmother won't be here until after lunch." He chased a fly away from Davie's face.
"After we've played in the park we'll go to the toy store in the Mall and buy some toys. What do you think of that?"
"Ma. Ma. Da. Da." Davie smiled toothlessly.
"We'll shop for groceries on the way home."
Greg loaded his baby bag with a bottle of water, a clean diaper and a few arrowroot biscuits. Ready for the expedition he secured Davie in his car seat and set off for the park in the center of town.
The playground was alive with young mothers and children of various ages and shapes. Greg got the stroller out of the car, put a hat on Davie and wheeling along like a proud father approached the baby swings. They were all in use.
A pretty mother in short shorts and a tight T-shirt lifted her small child from a swing. "I'm finished with this one. You can have it."
"This is our first time in the park," Greg said and hoped she hadn't noticed his quick admiring glance at her bouncy breasts, thrusting nipples, bare midriff and exposed belly button. He quickly suppressed the vague arousal humming deep in his gut.
It was definitely time to start dating before he turned into an ogling old gent haunting the park for stimulation.
Greg studied the swing. Davie was too little to sit in it unless he held him. After a struggle to poke kicking legs into the leg openings, Greg whooshed the swing slowly back and forth
"How do you like it?"
Davie held on to Greg's hands. "Da."
"Is that yes?"
"Da, da." He loosened his grip on Greg's hands and grasped the bar at the front. "Da."
He caught the rhythm and swayed as Greg pushed. "We can't stay too long, kid. We've got things to do." He glanced at his watch. "Five more minutes."
Greg learned quickly that time meant nothing to the baby. Davie screeched when Greg stopped pushing.
"Okay. Okay. Cool it. A few more minutes and that's it." Time to show the kid who was boss.
When time was up he wrestled an angry struggling baby from the swing. The kid refused to sit in the stroller. Arms and legs flailing, he squirmed like a hooked fish. Determined not to be defeated by a six month old infant Greg held him at arm's length and looked into his eyes.
"Enough already or I won't buy you a treat."
The baby howled. His hat fell off. Greg squatted down to pick it up and Davie grabbed a fistful of Greg's hair and tugged.
"Okay, I give in. You don't have to go in the stroller." He loosened Davie's fist, tucked him under one arm and pushed the stroller with his free hand.
So much for adult intelligence, he mused on the way to the car. Davie had won that round. He'd stopped howling.
They returned home at noon, exhausted. Greg had seen mothers at the park and the Mall with kids in tow from babies on up, and wondered how the women kept track of their children. Must be a secret female thing that came from giving birth.
Greg fed Davie and put him down for a nap. Having a nap while the baby slept had an undeniable appeal.
He didn't expect his mother until late afternoon, time to rest up for her arrival. He stacked groceries in the cupboards, perishables in the fridge, made a sandwich, poured a glass of milk and carried his lunch up to his bedroom.
He'd eat and read for a while.
Kim's wild barking wakened him. He shot out of bed and ran downstairs. He found his mother hunkered down in the front hall patting the dog.
"Welcome home, Mom. You're early. I was having a nap."
She straightened up and hugged him. "You look great. Has the baby been good? Not keeping you up at night?"
"No. He sleeps like a top until six. I've had fun with him. We had a busy morning and crashed after lunch. He's probably awake now."
He linked his arm through his mother's. "I suppose you want to see him?"
"How did you guess?" She tilted her head. "I think I hear him crying." She darted away from Greg and ran up the stairs. "Bring up my suitcase."
"Mom." Greg called after her. "Do you know he's black?"
"I know. I met his father in Vancouver."
He carried her suitcase to the master bedroom. He heard his mother talking to the baby who had fallen silent.
Greg approached Davie's room and paused at the door. His mother had the baby in her arms. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She turned to Greg.
"Isn't he beautiful? He's like a little angel. You've taken good care of him."
"It was fun after I figured out how to change his dirty diapers. I bought him a yellow duck to play with in the bath."
Greg thought he'd be happy to be free of baby minding duties. Why did he feel vaguely sad?
Davie peeked at Greg. "Da. Da."
"Uncle." Greg waved at him. "Uncle."
"I have to change him." His mother said.
"I'll do it." Greg held out his hands.
"You've been on duty for three days. I'll take over." She kissed the baby and put him on the change table. "Your Grandma's here so Uncle Greg can have a break."
She glanced at him as she expertly changed Davie. "So what have you been up to since we left? Did you join the Tennis Club before Laura came with the baby? You talked about it."
Greg shook his head. "I forgot." He knew what was coming next and decided to take the conversational ball and run with it. "Funny you should mention that. A friend of mine is playing in a doubles match at the club tonight, I thought I'd drop by."
His mother picked up the baby. "Friend? Male or female?"
Greg grinned. "Mom, you are so obvious, still trying to marry me off."
"What else are mothers for? We all want grandchildren. So tell me, who is it?"
"Caroline Balfour. She's a doctor at the Markbridge Clinic."
"Are you two serious?"
Greg shrugged. "I wish. I'm working at it."
"So how did you meet her?"
"Bring Davie down to the kitchen, I'll make you a cup of tea and tell you how it happened."
"Sounds good. I'm parched." She cuddled the baby as they walked downstairs together. "Your Grandma is on the case. Let's go hear what your uncle has to say."
Greg filled the kettle and plugged it in. "There's not a lot to tell."
His mother listened intently to his story from his first meeting with Caroline at the clinic, to the accident and the aftermath, to calling at her apartment in the old Somerville house, to Caroline bandaging his heel, to his invitation to dinner and her excuses why she couldn't accept. "She's playing a doubles match tonight at the tennis club."
"What do you like about this woman?"
Greg tipped back in his chair. "Like? It's not so much like as being attracted. Wanting to get to know her. Wanting to know why she's so guarded around me. Maybe I'm making a damned fool of myself."
His mother poured a second cup of tea. "Well it sounds to me that you like her a lot so go for it. Check out her tennis game tonight. If you haven't seen the new club now's a good time to have a look. Ask Caroline for a drink in the lounge. It's very elegant."
She sipped some tea. "You mentioned the Somerville house. I heard it had been converted into apartments."
"That's the other news. Jack Somerville came by the other day. He's visiting with his wife and kids."
"Jack is married? Someone you know?"
"Tansy Thomas. She went to school with us. They've got three kids and another one on the way. They live in Detroit. Jack's brother, Pete, is married to Sarah Moreland. Her parents invited me to dinner tomorrow night, a kind of reunion for Jack, Pete, Tansy and me."
His mother finished her tea. "You've been out of the country so long, catching up on who is doing what should be fun. Show me what you have in the way of food. I'll cook dinner."
She played pat-a-cake with Davie and clapped his hands together. "Before dinner we'll have a swim. After that Uncle Greg will be ready to roll."
"Don't get your hopes up." His hopes had hit a wall but it would be worth a try to meet Caroline after her match.
* * * * *
Marjorie Moreland had said to dress casually. Greg pulled a rugby shirt over his head and left it hanging loose over his shorts.
Last night had turned him off Caroline. She'd deliberately misled him about the double's match. It was scheduled for next week. Why couldn't she have said she had other plans instead of inventing an excuse?
His mother was in bed when he got home from the club and hadn't pressed him for details in the morning. She'd sensed he was in no mood to talk and had taken Davie out for the day to visit friends and show him off.
Already Greg missed his busy days with the baby. He missed their conversations. He missed making up silly rhymes. He missed Davie's infectious giggly laugh when he blew bubbles on his belly.
A jealous pang skipped around his heart. He wasn't needed. Like an elderly relative of little use he had no one special to love and care for.
If he didn't want to end up like a grumpy old man he had to start socializing. Like tonight.
He made a mental list.
Make an effort to meet women.
Where? Tennis Club?
Find a suitable companion/friend/lover.
How? A newspaper advertisement?
"Wife wanted for charming..."
Words failed him.
He'd have to rely on luck.
Given his failure to interest Caroline in his brilliant mind, quirky sense of humor and his not bad looking body he'd begun to wonder if he'd lost the ability to attract women.
He had all his teeth, no bad habits, a work history second to none and money in the bank. He even had recent experience caring for an infant.
Not bad for a man barely into his thirties.
He had to start the wife-hunting ball rolling or sit on the shelf a miserable, gloomy old gent.
Greg locked up the house. His Corvette gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Not a car for a wife and kids, a car for a guy looking for action. Maybe he'd luck in tonight. Maybe luck in with a luscious female who liked guys with good taste in cars.
He shifted into gear and headed down the drive to the road. The Moreland's lived on Park Lane Circle on the far side of town. If he stuck to the speed limit, it'd take a half hour.
If he floored it?
Better not. The cops were doing spot checks.
Greg slowed down in front of the Moreland home. Three cars were parked in the driveway, one with Michigan plates, Jack's car, and one from Ontario. Greg thought his car was safer on the street in case one of the guests had to leave early.
Leaning on the side of caution he locked the steering wheel and set the alarm. Corvettes were prime targets for thieves.
He ran up the wide stone steps and rang the bell. A handsome middle-aged woman answered the door and held out her hand.
"Marjorie Moreland. You must be Greg. Come in. We're out on the patio." She escorted him through the house. "We have another guest coming. She's been delayed but should be here any minute."
Greg's socializing antennae reacted to the news. The expected guest might be an elderly family friend or a young friend of the family. Not too young and not too old, he hoped. A sensible, attractive woman in her late twenties would fit the bill.
They stepped on to the patio. "I think you know everyone except my husband and our son, Mark."
Her husband held out his hand. "Gerry Moreland. Glad you could come. Mark will get you a drink while I fire up the barbeque."
Mark stood to greet Greg. "What can I get you?"
"A beer, thanks." He settled in the chair next to Tansy. "Good to see you again. Who's the missing guest? Someone you know?"
Tansy shook her head. "A friend of Dr. and Mrs. Moreland, I think. Sarah's never met her."
Jack waved his bottle at Greg. "Isn't this great? Four of us from Markbridge High, older and wiser, I hope." He chugged down beer. Jack had always been a chugger.
"What do you think of Pete? Looks great, doesn't he?" Jack downed the last of his beer.
Greg hadn't seen Pete for years. Time hadn't been kind to him. The long, lanky, athletic teenager had gained weight and developed jowls. Sarah sat beside him on a padded wicker love seat.
"He sure does. Marriage must agree with you, Pete." Greg said. And wondered if he'd changed that much. He surreptitiously felt his chin and neck. No jowls.
Pete grinned. "We've been married two years. You should try it before you get too old."
Despite the sting Greg grinned. "Can't find anyone who'll have me."
"Give me a break, Greg. You must have women beating down your door." Tansy rested her hand on his arm.
Slightly embarrassed he raised his brows. "I guess I haven't been home long enough to lure them in."
Mark handed Greg a cold beer. "It's from a local microbrewery. Supposed to be excellent but I'm no judge of beer, never touch the stuff, I prefer wine."
Greg couldn't let that pass. Wine snobs rubbed him the wrong way. "Good for you. Beer is an acquired taste, like olives. It's a better thirst quencher on a hot day than wine."
Mrs. Moreland carried a loaded tray out to the patio. "I heard the doorbell, Mark. Would you answer it? My hands are full."
* * * * *
Caroline thrust her fingers through her hair still damp from the shower and hoped the party would be relaxing. She'd been on call since seven in the morning. Summer Saturdays were always busy with falls, cuts, bruises and sunburn. Today she'd attended two non-life threatening bicycle accidents.
Not as bad as hers though. Kids had fallen off their bikes and scraped their knees and hands. No cars involved. Kids on bikes and cars were a bad mix.
She was off duty for the next twenty-four hours. Sleeping late on Sunday morning would re-charge her batteries.
The man who opened the door resembled Dr. Moreland. He held out his hand. "Mark Moreland. You have to be Caroline Balfour. Dad's been keeping you a secret."
"A secret?"
"He didn't tell me he had a beautiful doctor on staff."
Caroline made her lips smile. "Thanks for the compliment."
Mark Moreland wasn't wasting any time. She wasn't in the mood to play flirty games until after she'd eaten and had a glass of wine to take the edge off her fatigue.
He grasped her elbow. "We're outside on the patio. I think you should sit with me so we can get to know each other."
Caroline's hope for a relaxing evening sank like a stone. She hadn't dated for years and supposed Mark's approach was typical of the new millennium. Hit hard and score.
He held her hand as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. "Hi everyone. I want you to meet Caroline Balfour. She's on the staff at the clinic."
Mrs. Moreland paused to put down a tray of assorted hors d'oeuvres she'd been passing around.
"Welcome, my dear. I'm sorry we've not met before. Come and let me introduce you to the others."
Panic rooted her to the spot. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her head reeled.
Get a grip! Get a grip!
She sucked in a deep breath. If there was a flaming hell on earth designed to shrivel her nerves this was it. Jack and Pete Somerville, Tansy Thomas and Greg, all in one place, all looking at her.
With her hand on Caroline's arm, Mrs. Moreland walked her to the group and introduced her. "Our daughter, Sarah, and her husband, Pete Somerville. Tansy is married to Pete's brother, Jack, and that's Greg Fraser sitting next to Tansy."
Caroline nodded and forced her lips into a smile.
"Jack, Pete, Greg and Tansy went to school together in Markbridge. We've planned a mini-reunion for them." Mrs. Moreland said.
Caroline's legs wobbled. Could she plead a sudden headache? Collapse from overwork? Fall down dead?
Greg stood. "I've met Dr. Balfour." He grasped her hand and held it a few seconds before releasing it. "I missed seeing you at the club last night."
He'd gone to the club!
Trapped, unable to meet his eyes, she struggled to breathe. Words stuck in her throat. Her pretence of not knowing him had come full circle. To this place. In front of witnesses. Guilt added to her misery. She'd lied about the tennis match.
"Come sit by me." Tansy's voice broke through the despair dimming Caroline's thoughts.
"Tell me how you know Greg. He's an old boyfriend of mine." A quirky smile tipped her lips. "That was before Jack and I started going together. I'm expecting my fourth in September. That's what love can do."
"Yes, love can do that." Caroline said and sank gratefully into the chair beside Tansy.
How was she going to get through the rest of the evening? If she smothered some yawns, talked about her busy day, she'd have an excuse to leave early. Two hours, max. She could handle that.
Or she could tell Dr. and Mrs. Moreland she was acquainted with the Markbridge High crowd.
And then? Caroline wilted inside. Her courage failed. What if Greg told them she had never mentioned the connection? She'd feel like a fool. So much for her plan to meet him in the park.
www.anitabirt.com
(COPYRIGHT 2009 Anita Birt)
Greg fed the baby his infant cereal. "What do you think I should do, kid? Give up on her? I get the feeling she's holding back something. Keeping me at arm's length. Why? I don't bite and I shower every day.
"Ma, ma. Da, da."
"Hey you put two sounds together. Maybe that's an omen. Tell you what. When your grandmother's here to look after you, I'll try something different with Caroline."
"Da. Da." Davie squeezed his lips together, shook his head and refused more cereal.
"Not a good idea, is that it?" He gave Davie a wooden spoon and a pot lid to bang on while he had breakfast.
He cleaned up the kitchen and fed the dog and the cats, made up two bottles, put one in the fridge, wiped cereal from the baby's face and carried him outside to rock on the swing.
While Greg held the bottle Davie clasped his little hands around it. Smiling contentedly he studied Greg's face. It'd be nice to have a kid. He was getting like a broody hen anxious to raise chicks of his own.
They rocked in the swing until Davie finished drinking. "Okay, now we're ready to face the world. I'll lock up the house and we'll go to the park. Your grandmother won't be here until after lunch." He chased a fly away from Davie's face.
"After we've played in the park we'll go to the toy store in the Mall and buy some toys. What do you think of that?"
"Ma. Ma. Da. Da." Davie smiled toothlessly.
"We'll shop for groceries on the way home."
Greg loaded his baby bag with a bottle of water, a clean diaper and a few arrowroot biscuits. Ready for the expedition he secured Davie in his car seat and set off for the park in the center of town.
The playground was alive with young mothers and children of various ages and shapes. Greg got the stroller out of the car, put a hat on Davie and wheeling along like a proud father approached the baby swings. They were all in use.
A pretty mother in short shorts and a tight T-shirt lifted her small child from a swing. "I'm finished with this one. You can have it."
"This is our first time in the park," Greg said and hoped she hadn't noticed his quick admiring glance at her bouncy breasts, thrusting nipples, bare midriff and exposed belly button. He quickly suppressed the vague arousal humming deep in his gut.
It was definitely time to start dating before he turned into an ogling old gent haunting the park for stimulation.
Greg studied the swing. Davie was too little to sit in it unless he held him. After a struggle to poke kicking legs into the leg openings, Greg whooshed the swing slowly back and forth
"How do you like it?"
Davie held on to Greg's hands. "Da."
"Is that yes?"
"Da, da." He loosened his grip on Greg's hands and grasped the bar at the front. "Da."
He caught the rhythm and swayed as Greg pushed. "We can't stay too long, kid. We've got things to do." He glanced at his watch. "Five more minutes."
Greg learned quickly that time meant nothing to the baby. Davie screeched when Greg stopped pushing.
"Okay. Okay. Cool it. A few more minutes and that's it." Time to show the kid who was boss.
When time was up he wrestled an angry struggling baby from the swing. The kid refused to sit in the stroller. Arms and legs flailing, he squirmed like a hooked fish. Determined not to be defeated by a six month old infant Greg held him at arm's length and looked into his eyes.
"Enough already or I won't buy you a treat."
The baby howled. His hat fell off. Greg squatted down to pick it up and Davie grabbed a fistful of Greg's hair and tugged.
"Okay, I give in. You don't have to go in the stroller." He loosened Davie's fist, tucked him under one arm and pushed the stroller with his free hand.
So much for adult intelligence, he mused on the way to the car. Davie had won that round. He'd stopped howling.
They returned home at noon, exhausted. Greg had seen mothers at the park and the Mall with kids in tow from babies on up, and wondered how the women kept track of their children. Must be a secret female thing that came from giving birth.
Greg fed Davie and put him down for a nap. Having a nap while the baby slept had an undeniable appeal.
He didn't expect his mother until late afternoon, time to rest up for her arrival. He stacked groceries in the cupboards, perishables in the fridge, made a sandwich, poured a glass of milk and carried his lunch up to his bedroom.
He'd eat and read for a while.
Kim's wild barking wakened him. He shot out of bed and ran downstairs. He found his mother hunkered down in the front hall patting the dog.
"Welcome home, Mom. You're early. I was having a nap."
She straightened up and hugged him. "You look great. Has the baby been good? Not keeping you up at night?"
"No. He sleeps like a top until six. I've had fun with him. We had a busy morning and crashed after lunch. He's probably awake now."
He linked his arm through his mother's. "I suppose you want to see him?"
"How did you guess?" She tilted her head. "I think I hear him crying." She darted away from Greg and ran up the stairs. "Bring up my suitcase."
"Mom." Greg called after her. "Do you know he's black?"
"I know. I met his father in Vancouver."
He carried her suitcase to the master bedroom. He heard his mother talking to the baby who had fallen silent.
Greg approached Davie's room and paused at the door. His mother had the baby in her arms. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She turned to Greg.
"Isn't he beautiful? He's like a little angel. You've taken good care of him."
"It was fun after I figured out how to change his dirty diapers. I bought him a yellow duck to play with in the bath."
Greg thought he'd be happy to be free of baby minding duties. Why did he feel vaguely sad?
Davie peeked at Greg. "Da. Da."
"Uncle." Greg waved at him. "Uncle."
"I have to change him." His mother said.
"I'll do it." Greg held out his hands.
"You've been on duty for three days. I'll take over." She kissed the baby and put him on the change table. "Your Grandma's here so Uncle Greg can have a break."
She glanced at him as she expertly changed Davie. "So what have you been up to since we left? Did you join the Tennis Club before Laura came with the baby? You talked about it."
Greg shook his head. "I forgot." He knew what was coming next and decided to take the conversational ball and run with it. "Funny you should mention that. A friend of mine is playing in a doubles match at the club tonight, I thought I'd drop by."
His mother picked up the baby. "Friend? Male or female?"
Greg grinned. "Mom, you are so obvious, still trying to marry me off."
"What else are mothers for? We all want grandchildren. So tell me, who is it?"
"Caroline Balfour. She's a doctor at the Markbridge Clinic."
"Are you two serious?"
Greg shrugged. "I wish. I'm working at it."
"So how did you meet her?"
"Bring Davie down to the kitchen, I'll make you a cup of tea and tell you how it happened."
"Sounds good. I'm parched." She cuddled the baby as they walked downstairs together. "Your Grandma is on the case. Let's go hear what your uncle has to say."
Greg filled the kettle and plugged it in. "There's not a lot to tell."
His mother listened intently to his story from his first meeting with Caroline at the clinic, to the accident and the aftermath, to calling at her apartment in the old Somerville house, to Caroline bandaging his heel, to his invitation to dinner and her excuses why she couldn't accept. "She's playing a doubles match tonight at the tennis club."
"What do you like about this woman?"
Greg tipped back in his chair. "Like? It's not so much like as being attracted. Wanting to get to know her. Wanting to know why she's so guarded around me. Maybe I'm making a damned fool of myself."
His mother poured a second cup of tea. "Well it sounds to me that you like her a lot so go for it. Check out her tennis game tonight. If you haven't seen the new club now's a good time to have a look. Ask Caroline for a drink in the lounge. It's very elegant."
She sipped some tea. "You mentioned the Somerville house. I heard it had been converted into apartments."
"That's the other news. Jack Somerville came by the other day. He's visiting with his wife and kids."
"Jack is married? Someone you know?"
"Tansy Thomas. She went to school with us. They've got three kids and another one on the way. They live in Detroit. Jack's brother, Pete, is married to Sarah Moreland. Her parents invited me to dinner tomorrow night, a kind of reunion for Jack, Pete, Tansy and me."
His mother finished her tea. "You've been out of the country so long, catching up on who is doing what should be fun. Show me what you have in the way of food. I'll cook dinner."
She played pat-a-cake with Davie and clapped his hands together. "Before dinner we'll have a swim. After that Uncle Greg will be ready to roll."
"Don't get your hopes up." His hopes had hit a wall but it would be worth a try to meet Caroline after her match.
* * * * *
Marjorie Moreland had said to dress casually. Greg pulled a rugby shirt over his head and left it hanging loose over his shorts.
Last night had turned him off Caroline. She'd deliberately misled him about the double's match. It was scheduled for next week. Why couldn't she have said she had other plans instead of inventing an excuse?
His mother was in bed when he got home from the club and hadn't pressed him for details in the morning. She'd sensed he was in no mood to talk and had taken Davie out for the day to visit friends and show him off.
Already Greg missed his busy days with the baby. He missed their conversations. He missed making up silly rhymes. He missed Davie's infectious giggly laugh when he blew bubbles on his belly.
A jealous pang skipped around his heart. He wasn't needed. Like an elderly relative of little use he had no one special to love and care for.
If he didn't want to end up like a grumpy old man he had to start socializing. Like tonight.
He made a mental list.
Make an effort to meet women.
Where? Tennis Club?
Find a suitable companion/friend/lover.
How? A newspaper advertisement?
"Wife wanted for charming..."
Words failed him.
He'd have to rely on luck.
Given his failure to interest Caroline in his brilliant mind, quirky sense of humor and his not bad looking body he'd begun to wonder if he'd lost the ability to attract women.
He had all his teeth, no bad habits, a work history second to none and money in the bank. He even had recent experience caring for an infant.
Not bad for a man barely into his thirties.
He had to start the wife-hunting ball rolling or sit on the shelf a miserable, gloomy old gent.
Greg locked up the house. His Corvette gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Not a car for a wife and kids, a car for a guy looking for action. Maybe he'd luck in tonight. Maybe luck in with a luscious female who liked guys with good taste in cars.
He shifted into gear and headed down the drive to the road. The Moreland's lived on Park Lane Circle on the far side of town. If he stuck to the speed limit, it'd take a half hour.
If he floored it?
Better not. The cops were doing spot checks.
Greg slowed down in front of the Moreland home. Three cars were parked in the driveway, one with Michigan plates, Jack's car, and one from Ontario. Greg thought his car was safer on the street in case one of the guests had to leave early.
Leaning on the side of caution he locked the steering wheel and set the alarm. Corvettes were prime targets for thieves.
He ran up the wide stone steps and rang the bell. A handsome middle-aged woman answered the door and held out her hand.
"Marjorie Moreland. You must be Greg. Come in. We're out on the patio." She escorted him through the house. "We have another guest coming. She's been delayed but should be here any minute."
Greg's socializing antennae reacted to the news. The expected guest might be an elderly family friend or a young friend of the family. Not too young and not too old, he hoped. A sensible, attractive woman in her late twenties would fit the bill.
They stepped on to the patio. "I think you know everyone except my husband and our son, Mark."
Her husband held out his hand. "Gerry Moreland. Glad you could come. Mark will get you a drink while I fire up the barbeque."
Mark stood to greet Greg. "What can I get you?"
"A beer, thanks." He settled in the chair next to Tansy. "Good to see you again. Who's the missing guest? Someone you know?"
Tansy shook her head. "A friend of Dr. and Mrs. Moreland, I think. Sarah's never met her."
Jack waved his bottle at Greg. "Isn't this great? Four of us from Markbridge High, older and wiser, I hope." He chugged down beer. Jack had always been a chugger.
"What do you think of Pete? Looks great, doesn't he?" Jack downed the last of his beer.
Greg hadn't seen Pete for years. Time hadn't been kind to him. The long, lanky, athletic teenager had gained weight and developed jowls. Sarah sat beside him on a padded wicker love seat.
"He sure does. Marriage must agree with you, Pete." Greg said. And wondered if he'd changed that much. He surreptitiously felt his chin and neck. No jowls.
Pete grinned. "We've been married two years. You should try it before you get too old."
Despite the sting Greg grinned. "Can't find anyone who'll have me."
"Give me a break, Greg. You must have women beating down your door." Tansy rested her hand on his arm.
Slightly embarrassed he raised his brows. "I guess I haven't been home long enough to lure them in."
Mark handed Greg a cold beer. "It's from a local microbrewery. Supposed to be excellent but I'm no judge of beer, never touch the stuff, I prefer wine."
Greg couldn't let that pass. Wine snobs rubbed him the wrong way. "Good for you. Beer is an acquired taste, like olives. It's a better thirst quencher on a hot day than wine."
Mrs. Moreland carried a loaded tray out to the patio. "I heard the doorbell, Mark. Would you answer it? My hands are full."
* * * * *
Caroline thrust her fingers through her hair still damp from the shower and hoped the party would be relaxing. She'd been on call since seven in the morning. Summer Saturdays were always busy with falls, cuts, bruises and sunburn. Today she'd attended two non-life threatening bicycle accidents.
Not as bad as hers though. Kids had fallen off their bikes and scraped their knees and hands. No cars involved. Kids on bikes and cars were a bad mix.
She was off duty for the next twenty-four hours. Sleeping late on Sunday morning would re-charge her batteries.
The man who opened the door resembled Dr. Moreland. He held out his hand. "Mark Moreland. You have to be Caroline Balfour. Dad's been keeping you a secret."
"A secret?"
"He didn't tell me he had a beautiful doctor on staff."
Caroline made her lips smile. "Thanks for the compliment."
Mark Moreland wasn't wasting any time. She wasn't in the mood to play flirty games until after she'd eaten and had a glass of wine to take the edge off her fatigue.
He grasped her elbow. "We're outside on the patio. I think you should sit with me so we can get to know each other."
Caroline's hope for a relaxing evening sank like a stone. She hadn't dated for years and supposed Mark's approach was typical of the new millennium. Hit hard and score.
He held her hand as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. "Hi everyone. I want you to meet Caroline Balfour. She's on the staff at the clinic."
Mrs. Moreland paused to put down a tray of assorted hors d'oeuvres she'd been passing around.
"Welcome, my dear. I'm sorry we've not met before. Come and let me introduce you to the others."
Panic rooted her to the spot. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her head reeled.
Get a grip! Get a grip!
She sucked in a deep breath. If there was a flaming hell on earth designed to shrivel her nerves this was it. Jack and Pete Somerville, Tansy Thomas and Greg, all in one place, all looking at her.
With her hand on Caroline's arm, Mrs. Moreland walked her to the group and introduced her. "Our daughter, Sarah, and her husband, Pete Somerville. Tansy is married to Pete's brother, Jack, and that's Greg Fraser sitting next to Tansy."
Caroline nodded and forced her lips into a smile.
"Jack, Pete, Greg and Tansy went to school together in Markbridge. We've planned a mini-reunion for them." Mrs. Moreland said.
Caroline's legs wobbled. Could she plead a sudden headache? Collapse from overwork? Fall down dead?
Greg stood. "I've met Dr. Balfour." He grasped her hand and held it a few seconds before releasing it. "I missed seeing you at the club last night."
He'd gone to the club!
Trapped, unable to meet his eyes, she struggled to breathe. Words stuck in her throat. Her pretence of not knowing him had come full circle. To this place. In front of witnesses. Guilt added to her misery. She'd lied about the tennis match.
"Come sit by me." Tansy's voice broke through the despair dimming Caroline's thoughts.
"Tell me how you know Greg. He's an old boyfriend of mine." A quirky smile tipped her lips. "That was before Jack and I started going together. I'm expecting my fourth in September. That's what love can do."
"Yes, love can do that." Caroline said and sank gratefully into the chair beside Tansy.
How was she going to get through the rest of the evening? If she smothered some yawns, talked about her busy day, she'd have an excuse to leave early. Two hours, max. She could handle that.
Or she could tell Dr. and Mrs. Moreland she was acquainted with the Markbridge High crowd.
And then? Caroline wilted inside. Her courage failed. What if Greg told them she had never mentioned the connection? She'd feel like a fool. So much for her plan to meet him in the park.
www.anitabirt.com
Friday, May 1, 2009
Dickens and Me
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
(copyright 2009, Anita Birt)
Confident he'd work something out Greg returned to the kitchen, spooned ice cream from the container and remembered to leave some for Davie when he wakened. They'd go shopping tomorrow and load up with good things to eat.
He picked up the phone to check his messages. His mother had called. "Dad has two weeks of business meetings in Hong Kong so I'm flying home to meet our grandson. I've spoken to Laura. I'm stopping off in Vancouver for a day to touch base with her and Colin. Expect me tomorrow. You'll probably need a break. I'll take a taxi from the airport. Bye."
Greg didn't need a break. He liked minding Davie. They were getting along just fine. If Davie's spots returned or he got sick his mother would take him to the clinic, sabotaging part of his plan to see Caroline.
She'd left a message on his voice mail, cool and to the point. It sank his immediate prospects of getting to know her better. His life had definitely taken a turn for the worse. Saturday she another engagements. Friday she'd promised to play in a mixed doubles tournament at the club. He had the distinct feeling she was glad to have excuses to avoid having dinner with him.
* * * * *
Caroline knew she couldn't go on pretending she didn't know Greg. Time to confront him. Maybe confront wasn't a good idea. Better to remind him he used to know Kate Southern. To remind him they'd traveled to Ottawa when they were both eighteen to represent their school in a mock parliamentary debate. To remind him they'd partied with students from across Canada their last night in the city.
Why had she let her guard down? She wasn't used to alcohol. She loathed and detested drunks after the miseries her father had inflicted on her and her mother.
Thirteen years ago.
She'd paid for one drink, a glass of white wine. A boy from New Brunswick insisted on buying her a rum and coke.
Greg had rested his hand on her shoulder. "You've got unusual eyes."
"Unusual?"
"The color is sort of like violets." He grinned. "Are you having a good time?"
"Yes."
Greg's hand resting protectively on her shoulder as if he cared about her. He liked the color of her eyes. She wasn't used to compliments, wasn't used to being noticed, especially by someone like him the most popular boy in school. His attention made her feel like a different person, not like familiar Kate Southern, someone special.
He'd ordered a Tequila Sunrise. She ordered one as well. It embarrassed her to remember she had done it to impress him hoping he'd think she was used to partying and might find her interesting.
The drink was tangy and delicious. She ordered another.
What happened after that was a blur. She'd wakened in the morning with a pounding headache.
She was naked in her bed. Greg was naked. He was asleep with his right hand on her breast. A burning pain stung inside her vagina.
They'd had sex. She could feel it. He'd been inside her. She felt stretched and sore.
He said she'd invited him into her room, stripped off her clothes, helped him undress and fondled his erection before they stretched out on the bed.
"But I was a virgin. Why didn't you stop?"
"I didn't know you were a virgin until I was half way inside you. You didn't seem to care. I used a condom first time but you wanted to keep on."
He said they'd made love twice before they fell asleep.
She'd burst into tears, told him she didn't remember anything after drinking the second Tequila Sunrise. He'd apologized but said she should be glad it was him and not one of the other guys, at least she knew him.
He'd promised not to tell anyone what happened and didn't. She would have died of shame if he'd bandied her name around Markbridge High as the girl who'd lost her virginity when she was drunk. After learning she was pregnant she discovered the kind of person he really was.
Caroline sighed. He was back in her life. Time to be honest. She couldn't keep fending him off. She'd left a message on his voice mail declining his dinner invitation.
She'd lied about the doubles tournament it was scheduled for next week. She had a valid excuse for Saturday. Dr. Moreland's wife, Marjorie, had invited her to dinner to meet their daughter, her husband, and their son, Mark.
Tomorrow she'd phone and arrange to meet Greg. Where? Not a local café, too many townspeople knew her and gossip would fly from voice mail to voice mail.
The city park? It'd be quiet in the evening. A bench under the trees would be private. That'd be the best place. She'd walk away and leave him to think about the past.
Caroline finished writing up her charts and paused in the quiet reception area. Betty called her over.
"Isn't Greg Fraser handsome? He's the best looking man to walk through these doors since I've been working here." She grinned at Caroline. "If I were twenty years younger I'd follow him home."
"Betty Harris, you are happily married to a lovely man, and you're a mother and grandmother. I thought you'd become sensible in your old age," Caroline teased.
"Because I'm sensible doesn't mean I can't look, does it?"
"As long as you don't suggest I should be interested in Mr. Fraser."
"Would I suggest such a thing?" Betty raised her brows. "But he's not your patient so there's nothing to stop you following him home."
Caroline shook her head. "You are such a romantic. Mr. Fraser wouldn't give me a second thought and I'm not interested in him."
"Too bad," Betty sighed. "You two would look good together. Don't you think he's a real sweetie the way he's looking after his nephew?"
Caroline held up her hand. "Yes, he's a real sweetie and I'm going home. See you in the morning."
She smiled on the way to her car. Betty's matchmaking efforts were an ongoing joke between them. She was right, of course, Greg was the best looking man she'd seen in years and he was a good guy for taking of Davie and doing it so well.
She thought about him on the drive home and supposed he had put the past behind him.
Thirteen years ago, young and drunk, she had lost her way.
Like a falling star she had crashed. Indifferent to her desperate plea for help Greg had left her to pick up the shattered pieces of her life.
* * * * *
Greg was bathing Davie when the phone rang. Maybe it was Caroline saying she'd changed her mind about coming to dinner.
Not a hope in hell of that happening. She'd been coolly polite, not exactly unfriendly but definitely not friendly.
"Let it ring." He chanted to amuse the baby. "Who cares? Three bears. Bears care. Let it ring."
"Da," Davie said.
"Caroline," Greg said, and holding the baby firmly, lifted him from the tub. He placed him on a big towel and blew bubbles on his plump little belly. Davie kicked and laughed.
"One more bubble, then I have to dress you. Your grandmother is coming today and we have lots to do." He bubbled under Davie's chin.
"Da." The baby chortled and waved his arms.
With the kid wrapped snugly in the towel Greg carried him to the bedroom and dried him off. In the space of two days he'd learned a lot about babies. He thought he'd done ratThe thing about babies is to love them. He powdered Davie and diapered him. The baby grabbed a handful of Greg's hair and tugged.
The other thing about babies, he gently loosened Davie's grip, is not to let them pull your hair.
Greg enjoyed their morning routine. He showered and shaved while his nephew played in his cot and talked to Kim. Like a trained guard dog she stationed herself at the baby's open door every night and moved in closer when he wakened, but not too close or Davie would pull her ears.
Still on guard, she followed them downstairs to the kitchen.
Greg checked his voice mail. The baby sat in the high chair mashing a handful of pureed banana into his mouth.
A Marjorie Moreland had called. In a pleasant breezy voice she identified herself as Sarah Somerville's mother and invited him to dinner on Saturday. Might as well go, he thought. He didn't have a date and Mom would mind Davie.
He called back and accepted the invitation. His social life had foundered. Hit a wall. The few times he'd spoken with Caroline had ended in a draw as he tried to entice her into a relationship she obviously didn't want.
Much as he loved Davie their conversations were not exactly mind challenging. He needed adult company, female preferred.
www.anitabirt.com
(copyright 2009, Anita Birt)
Confident he'd work something out Greg returned to the kitchen, spooned ice cream from the container and remembered to leave some for Davie when he wakened. They'd go shopping tomorrow and load up with good things to eat.
He picked up the phone to check his messages. His mother had called. "Dad has two weeks of business meetings in Hong Kong so I'm flying home to meet our grandson. I've spoken to Laura. I'm stopping off in Vancouver for a day to touch base with her and Colin. Expect me tomorrow. You'll probably need a break. I'll take a taxi from the airport. Bye."
Greg didn't need a break. He liked minding Davie. They were getting along just fine. If Davie's spots returned or he got sick his mother would take him to the clinic, sabotaging part of his plan to see Caroline.
She'd left a message on his voice mail, cool and to the point. It sank his immediate prospects of getting to know her better. His life had definitely taken a turn for the worse. Saturday she another engagements. Friday she'd promised to play in a mixed doubles tournament at the club. He had the distinct feeling she was glad to have excuses to avoid having dinner with him.
* * * * *
Caroline knew she couldn't go on pretending she didn't know Greg. Time to confront him. Maybe confront wasn't a good idea. Better to remind him he used to know Kate Southern. To remind him they'd traveled to Ottawa when they were both eighteen to represent their school in a mock parliamentary debate. To remind him they'd partied with students from across Canada their last night in the city.
Why had she let her guard down? She wasn't used to alcohol. She loathed and detested drunks after the miseries her father had inflicted on her and her mother.
Thirteen years ago.
She'd paid for one drink, a glass of white wine. A boy from New Brunswick insisted on buying her a rum and coke.
Greg had rested his hand on her shoulder. "You've got unusual eyes."
"Unusual?"
"The color is sort of like violets." He grinned. "Are you having a good time?"
"Yes."
Greg's hand resting protectively on her shoulder as if he cared about her. He liked the color of her eyes. She wasn't used to compliments, wasn't used to being noticed, especially by someone like him the most popular boy in school. His attention made her feel like a different person, not like familiar Kate Southern, someone special.
He'd ordered a Tequila Sunrise. She ordered one as well. It embarrassed her to remember she had done it to impress him hoping he'd think she was used to partying and might find her interesting.
The drink was tangy and delicious. She ordered another.
What happened after that was a blur. She'd wakened in the morning with a pounding headache.
She was naked in her bed. Greg was naked. He was asleep with his right hand on her breast. A burning pain stung inside her vagina.
They'd had sex. She could feel it. He'd been inside her. She felt stretched and sore.
He said she'd invited him into her room, stripped off her clothes, helped him undress and fondled his erection before they stretched out on the bed.
"But I was a virgin. Why didn't you stop?"
"I didn't know you were a virgin until I was half way inside you. You didn't seem to care. I used a condom first time but you wanted to keep on."
He said they'd made love twice before they fell asleep.
She'd burst into tears, told him she didn't remember anything after drinking the second Tequila Sunrise. He'd apologized but said she should be glad it was him and not one of the other guys, at least she knew him.
He'd promised not to tell anyone what happened and didn't. She would have died of shame if he'd bandied her name around Markbridge High as the girl who'd lost her virginity when she was drunk. After learning she was pregnant she discovered the kind of person he really was.
Caroline sighed. He was back in her life. Time to be honest. She couldn't keep fending him off. She'd left a message on his voice mail declining his dinner invitation.
She'd lied about the doubles tournament it was scheduled for next week. She had a valid excuse for Saturday. Dr. Moreland's wife, Marjorie, had invited her to dinner to meet their daughter, her husband, and their son, Mark.
Tomorrow she'd phone and arrange to meet Greg. Where? Not a local café, too many townspeople knew her and gossip would fly from voice mail to voice mail.
The city park? It'd be quiet in the evening. A bench under the trees would be private. That'd be the best place. She'd walk away and leave him to think about the past.
Caroline finished writing up her charts and paused in the quiet reception area. Betty called her over.
"Isn't Greg Fraser handsome? He's the best looking man to walk through these doors since I've been working here." She grinned at Caroline. "If I were twenty years younger I'd follow him home."
"Betty Harris, you are happily married to a lovely man, and you're a mother and grandmother. I thought you'd become sensible in your old age," Caroline teased.
"Because I'm sensible doesn't mean I can't look, does it?"
"As long as you don't suggest I should be interested in Mr. Fraser."
"Would I suggest such a thing?" Betty raised her brows. "But he's not your patient so there's nothing to stop you following him home."
Caroline shook her head. "You are such a romantic. Mr. Fraser wouldn't give me a second thought and I'm not interested in him."
"Too bad," Betty sighed. "You two would look good together. Don't you think he's a real sweetie the way he's looking after his nephew?"
Caroline held up her hand. "Yes, he's a real sweetie and I'm going home. See you in the morning."
She smiled on the way to her car. Betty's matchmaking efforts were an ongoing joke between them. She was right, of course, Greg was the best looking man she'd seen in years and he was a good guy for taking of Davie and doing it so well.
She thought about him on the drive home and supposed he had put the past behind him.
Thirteen years ago, young and drunk, she had lost her way.
Like a falling star she had crashed. Indifferent to her desperate plea for help Greg had left her to pick up the shattered pieces of her life.
* * * * *
Greg was bathing Davie when the phone rang. Maybe it was Caroline saying she'd changed her mind about coming to dinner.
Not a hope in hell of that happening. She'd been coolly polite, not exactly unfriendly but definitely not friendly.
"Let it ring." He chanted to amuse the baby. "Who cares? Three bears. Bears care. Let it ring."
"Da," Davie said.
"Caroline," Greg said, and holding the baby firmly, lifted him from the tub. He placed him on a big towel and blew bubbles on his plump little belly. Davie kicked and laughed.
"One more bubble, then I have to dress you. Your grandmother is coming today and we have lots to do." He bubbled under Davie's chin.
"Da." The baby chortled and waved his arms.
With the kid wrapped snugly in the towel Greg carried him to the bedroom and dried him off. In the space of two days he'd learned a lot about babies. He thought he'd done ratThe thing about babies is to love them. He powdered Davie and diapered him. The baby grabbed a handful of Greg's hair and tugged.
The other thing about babies, he gently loosened Davie's grip, is not to let them pull your hair.
Greg enjoyed their morning routine. He showered and shaved while his nephew played in his cot and talked to Kim. Like a trained guard dog she stationed herself at the baby's open door every night and moved in closer when he wakened, but not too close or Davie would pull her ears.
Still on guard, she followed them downstairs to the kitchen.
Greg checked his voice mail. The baby sat in the high chair mashing a handful of pureed banana into his mouth.
A Marjorie Moreland had called. In a pleasant breezy voice she identified herself as Sarah Somerville's mother and invited him to dinner on Saturday. Might as well go, he thought. He didn't have a date and Mom would mind Davie.
He called back and accepted the invitation. His social life had foundered. Hit a wall. The few times he'd spoken with Caroline had ended in a draw as he tried to entice her into a relationship she obviously didn't want.
Much as he loved Davie their conversations were not exactly mind challenging. He needed adult company, female preferred.
www.anitabirt.com
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