After she’d dropped her mother off, she called Mia. “Mom is getting married,” she blurted.
“So I heard.”
“You heard and you didn’t tell me?”
“I just found out.”
“What are we going to do, Mia?” Carly exclaimed.
“Will said it’s her life to live as she wants.”
“Yes, it’s her life, and she is free to ruin Mr. Sheffington’s life, too, I guess, because you know that’s what she’ll do. I don’t know why she is so hell-bent on getting married, but she will make that poor man as miserable as she made Dad.”
“Don’t say that!” Mia cried. “Dad loved her, and, if you ask me, he still does. Frankly, I am a little surprised by this. I thought they would get back together. I mean, they still talk all the time—”
“They talk to jerk each other’s chains.”
“I know, but I thought that was like, you know, their love language. If you ask me, Dad started dating that girl just to make Mom crazy.”
“Mom is crazy, Mia.”
“Carly.” Mia suddenly sounded calm and collected. Motherly. “I can’t explain it, but Mom seems happy with this man. And there is nothing we can do about it, is there? You just have to accept it.”
Mia was right, of course. Carly could not stop the crazy train of her mother’s life. And honestly? A few weeks ago she would have said great, Mom, have at it. She would have been delighted if some gentleman had come along and taken her mother off the market. But did it have to be that one? Did it have to be Max’s father?
She finished her phone call with Mia just as she reached her house. When she pulled into the drive, it was dark, but she could see Conrad on his back porch, could see him rise and wave at her. She gassed it a little and hurried down the drive and bolted into the house. Once she was safely inside, she dropped her bag on the floor and walked into her living room. She felt heavy. Weighed down. She kicked off her shoes and fell onto the couch, facedown. She heard the click of dog nails against the wood floors and a moment later, Baxter appeared, having come out of his corner in the kitchen. “Hi, Baxter,” she said sadly, and rolled onto her side. After a couple of starts, Baxter climbed onto the couch, and even though there was no room for him, he draped his body over Carly.
“Oof,” she said. “You’re too fat, Baxter.” But she turned to her side and wrapped her arms around his warm, stinky body and buried her face in his fur. “I love you, too.”
She and Baxter lay like that for some time, her eyes closed as she mindlessly stroked Baxter’s fur, her thoughts drifting over the events of the last few weeks, of the strange space she found herself now. Baxter was content to lie like a sack of potatoes, sighing occasionally, and once almost knocking them both off the couch when he had a sudden itch that required the vigorous use of his back leg.
But then someone knocked at the door and Baxter, in his haste to be both guard dog and welcome mat, launched off Carly with a paw to her belly. She cried out as he slid down the hall, barking at the door. She rolled onto her back and looked at a mantel clock. It was half past ten. She guessed Conrad had run out of patience. With a weary sigh, she made herself get up and go to the door.
Eighteen
Carly’s expression went from weary resignation to a winsome smile, and it waved through Max in a rush of desire. He stood there like a dolt with his hands in his pockets while Baxter and Hazel did their usual greeting, rolling and tripping over each other.
Carly didn’t seem to notice the dogs at all. She grabbed his arms and stared up at him in wonder, and he imagined that all the same thoughts were slamming through her head like they were slamming through his. “I’m sorry, it’s late,” he said. “I texted you—”
“You did? I was on the phone with my sister—”
“If you want me to come back—”
“No!” She grabbed his hand. “No, no, please come in.” She tugged on his hand. “Please. I need you.”
He stepped inside and Carly threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I’m so glad you’re here. That was crazy, Max. Wasn’t that crazy?”