Fearsome (22 page)

“I can’t ignore this. I’m going to have to talk to Dylan about this and I’ll have to return the ring.”

“That’s not going to happen tonight, so for now, put it out of your mind, if that’s possible, and bottoms up,” Imogene says.

We slam back the cocktails like shots. After my drama, there seems no point in pretending this is a regular girls’ night out.

I burp. “That was good. I’ll need a bucket of these.”

“Oh no, we forgot the toast,” Lauren says. “Here’s to twenty-one.” As the three of us clink our empty glasses, we hear a popping sound in the house and then we are submerged in complete darkness.

“Shit! A power outage!” This comes from Imogene.

“Where do you keep the flashlights?” Lauren asks.

“I have no idea,” I say to the two dark figures.

The rain outside has turned into a full-on apocalyptic thunderstorm and the only light we get is from lightning strikes close to the house that wash the room with a white haze before going dark again.

We hear a crack outside and something hits the house. We let out blood-curdling screams and laugh at the same time. It’s a like a cheesy horror movie.

“I think one of your trees just lost a limb,” Imogene points out.

“Wait! I do have a flashlight on me. I forgot my dad gave me this for my car.” Lauren stumbles in the dark somewhere by the couch. “Ah ha! Found it.” A little light comes on in Lauren’s hands. It’s a tiny key light, enough to cast a dim glow across her face.

“A key light?” Imogene asks. “Lauren, that isn’t going to help; I still can’t see my hands or feet, all we can see is your mug and you look crazy, lady.”

“It’s not great, but look, we can point it at the floor and use it to guide us to the basement. I bet Gin has a stash of tools down there and there must be at least a few flashlights. She’s lived here forever and has been through a few bad storms, she must have kept emergency supplies somewhere.”

“My phone has a flashlight app,” I say. “Except I have no idea where I left the phone.”

“Perfect,” Imogene huffs.

“Let’s go with Lauren’s idea,” I suggest. “I know there’s more than wine downstairs. There’s a ladder and an old saw, so maybe there are some flashlights and batteries.”

“Fine,” Imogene says. “You lead, Lauren. We’ll follow your itty bitty light.”

Imogene holds my arm and guides me as we shuffle down the long hallway towards the kitchen and cellar door. We jump every time we hear a crack of thunder. Before we’re halfway down the hall, there’s another blinding flash of light coming from the living room windows and a crack follows too closely as if the lightning hit the house. At the same exact moment the front door swings open, banging against the hall console, and we see a tall, hulking, dark figure in the doorway.

Imogene produces another movie-worthy scream and then Lauren joins her. I am too terrified to scream or move. A flash of lightning illuminates the face of the stranger, and I see it’s Carson looking drenched and wild-eyed, but oh so sexy with his shirt plastered to his chest.

“It’s Carson,” I yell. Imogene and Lauren are still screaming as if he’s an ax murderer. I decide that I must remember this moment because, should we ever find ourselves in a similar crisis, at least I now know that these two women are the type to panic first and react later.

“Jesus, stop screaming,” Carson says, walking towards us.

“Carson, how did you get here?” Imogene asks. In the darkness I see her grabbing on to him.

Lauren shines her little light in his face.

“Get that thing off my face,” he says, so she points it at his neck. “Are you all okay?”

“We’re fine,” Imogene says. “We were celebrating Jess’s birthday when the power went out.”

Carson searches for my face and we lock eyes for a second when another flash of lightning strikes. “Let’s get you some flashlights,” he says.

“You’re in a suit; did you come from your house?” Lauren asks.

“No, I was at Mohonk when the power went out. I left the flashlights I had in my truck with some people at the hotel,” he says. “I got a text from Archie, Pam and Bonnie. They all said the power was out down here, too, and they couldn’t call you, but they could text me. I told them I’d check on you. I made Gin an emergency kit and put it in the pantry so it would be close by.”

“God, we’re so lucky you came to our rescue,” Imogene says. “We were going to go hunt around the scary cellar for flashlights. I’m so glad you got here first.”

Carson leads us in the dark back down the hallway to the pantry. “It’s the lower cabinet behind the door,” he says. I hear him banging things around and then a light comes on. It lights up the whole pantry. “These are LED lanterns.”

“Awesome,” Lauren says. “Are there more?”

“There are ten lanterns and at least six flashlights. They’re all LED so they should last a while. There’s also a box of new batteries in every size so let’s start filling these.” He hands out the camping lanterns and handheld flashlights.

We assemble all the lanterns and place one in all the downstairs rooms so we have light in every room. The lanterns give off a ghastly whiteness like moonbeams. We all look like the walking dead.

“Carson Blackard, you have saved the day—I mean night,” Lauren says. “Now we must continue with our party because I sure as hell can’t sleep in this.”

“So my parents called you because they thought you were home and could roll down the hill and check on us?” Imogene asks Carson. “”Hmm, interesting.”

“What?” Lauren asks. She’s refilling our margarita glasses from the pitcher as I eagerly hold my glass out for her. Carson is checking the window frames or something manly that guys think they should be doing in a storm to look busy and productive.

“Carson is in a suit,” Imogene says and at that we all turn to look at Carson who tosses his wet suit coat on the couch to reveal a wet, white dress shirt that clings to his superbly defined muscular chest. His wet locks are disheveled and only help to make him look more attractive. Fuckity-fuck. I can’t be around him without getting all worked up.

“A very nice suit,” Imogene continues. “And he just told us that he was at swanky Mohonk which means he must be on a date. I bet he left a lovely lady up at the hotel where she probably has a nice room and a candle light dinner waiting for him.”

“Who are you two? Cagney and Lacey? The power went out at Mohonk, too,” Carson says which doesn’t sound like much of a defense to me. Little pangs of jealousy are rattling me, thinking of Carson at a nice resort with another woman.

“Ha! But you are on a date and she
IS
up at Mohonk waiting for you!” Lauren shouts.

“So what?” Carson says and glances over at me. I put on a show of loving my strong drink too much to even consider participating in the conversation. I’m actually seething, thinking of some pretty woman waiting in a hotel room for Carson. What’s his type? Bombshells with boobs or leggy, skinny models?

“Just saying,” Imogene says, a little drunk. “You never bring women to your home. You are a true mystery, Mr. Blackard. You take a date to Mohonk for a fabulous dinner and stunning ambiance. You book a room so you don’t have to share your home with her. Then, to make it less personal, you get a text or call from my parents and you tell your date to make herself comfortable while you go to check on three women, but you’ll be back in time for sex.”

“Yes! That’s it.” Lauren points her finger at him.

“You’re all drunk,” he says, loosening his tie. “Don’t sleep upstairs. Ride out the storm down here, okay?”

“Did you at least get dinner before the power went out?” Imogene grins at Carson. “Who’s the woman, Carson?”

“No one special,” he mutters.

“Is that why you didn’t invite her to your home?” Lauren asks. “You only date out-of-town women? Locals aren’t good enough for you?”

“Do you have everything you need here?” he asks me, ignoring Imogene’s and Lauren’s taunts.

I nod and he looks at me a moment longer than necessary. My eyes linger on him, too, as I wonder what Dylan has told him. I consider that Carson is probably angry with me and wants to shout,
“I told you so!”

“You can’t drive in this weather,” Imogene says to him.

“What are you talking about? I drove down in this weather, I can drive back. I have my truck. I knew the weather would be bad. I didn’t know it would be this rough, though.”

“You can’t leave us now. Besides, I have some things I need to discuss with you,” Imogene says, sounding drunker by the minute.

“Where’s Bert?” Carson directs at me.

“Oh my God, I don’t know.” I put down my drink. “He’s in the house somewhere, but I completely forgot about him when the lights went out. I’ll go search upstairs.”

“No. Don’t,” Carson says. “Come here.”

I follow him into the dining room, which looks more austere and eerie than the living room.

“Look,” Carson says, pointing under the dining room table where Bert is hiding flat out on his stomach with his face buried in his front paws. “It’s his go-to place when he freaks out. Thunderstorms always freak him out.”

“Oh, honey,” I say, bending down to see Bert. “I’m sorry.”

“Put his dishes under there and he’ll be fine,” Carson instructs. I nod and realize I’m afraid to speak to Carson. I’m anxious and worried that he’s pissed off with me and frankly, I’m tired of disappointing people, especially him.

“Come and join the party, Carson,” Imogene says from the living room. Lauren is dancing to a Michael Jackson cassette tape on an old battery-operated boom box that was in the pantry.

“I don’t think so,” Carson says so quietly that only I can hear him.

We’re standing together, alone in the dining room. I don’t know why he doesn’t race back up to New Paltz and his hot date instead of taking the drunken abuse from Imogene and Lauren. Somehow, he doesn’t seem in a rush, though. Besides, I’m not in a rush to see him leave. In the chaos of the stormy weather outside and the drunk women laughing in the other room, this moment alone with him in the dining room seems private and rather intimate.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, breaking our silence.

“We’re fine. Thanks for finding the lanterns.”

“I meant you. Dylan doesn’t talk to me about you, but I know you two had a—”

“Break-up,” I finish for him.

“Yeah.”

“Please don’t get the wrong idea by what you see here. Imogene and Lauren came over to cheer me up. I’m not happy about what happened between Dylan and me.”

“I would never think badly of you.” His voice is soft and understanding. “Dylan is closed off. That’s nothing new. I wanted to make sure that you’re all right. That’s the real reason I came down here tonight. I know those two can handle themselves in this storm, but it gave me a good excuse to come check on you.”

My breath hitches in my throat; I’m surprised by his admission.

“Did you really leave your date back at Mohonk?”

“She’s in good company. We met some nice couples at the dinner we were invited to, so she’ll be fine without me.”

“Hmm, she’ll probably be ticked off that you left her to go check on three young, drunk women. Did you tell her that part or did you tell her you were checking on seniors?”

Carson laughs softly. “I told her a friend was worried about her granddaughter’s safety.”

“So she thinks you’re checking on a baby. Good one.”

We both laugh and then a thunderbolt cracks, causing me to duck and shudder with it. Carson holds my shoulders and moves closer. “It’s fine. That’s at least two miles away.”

I try to look brave. “Sure. I’m fine.”

“Hey, happy birthday.”

“Not really. I expected twenty-one to be a great celebration, but the timing is horrible.”

“Don’t let a little thunderstorm ruin your night. You have two very good friends in there who want to have fun with you.”

“They are good friends. It’s not the storm,” I say and then I begin to hem and haw because I’m afraid to tell Carson about the ring.

“What is it?” His smile fades and he looks concerned.

“Tonight, before the power went out, Imogene found a ring in the kitchen cupboard. We were mixing drinks and you know I don’t cook or really know my way around a kitchen, so if you wanted to hide something from me, where would you put it?” I’m rambling while Carson stares at me, waiting for me to get to the point.

“In the cupboard? And?” Carson’s tone is heavy with worry. His brow furrows.

“Dylan bought a ring and hid it in the cupboard, Carson. It’s a big, fat diamond ring that was purchased last week. I saw the receipt. He put it in there the same night we argued and he left.”

“Did you and Dylan talk about marriage?” His voice is less friendly.

“No, of course not. We never even talked about living together until that night. Dylan brought it up. I thought we were moving too fast and I wanted to slow down, take a break.”

“A break up, you mean. Taking a break is a break up,” Carson clarifies.

“Yes.”

“Did Dylan have any idea that you wanted to end it?” There’s that accusatory tone again.

“I never said I wanted to end it, Carson. I said it was moving too fast and I wanted to slow down.”

“You wanted to break up. No guy is stupid enough to believe that slowing down isn’t the same thing as saying you aren’t that in to him and want to break up.” His voice is stern.

“I didn’t realize that after less than two months, Dylan would want to live together and that he was actually thinking of proposing. Maybe we’re wrong about all of this. We’re just speculating about this ring.”

“We’re not speculating. He bought a ring.” Carson spits out the words at me.

“But he never gave it to me. Maybe he changed his mind.”

“Or maybe he didn’t have a chance to propose because you kicked him out.”

The blood rises in my face. Now I’m pissed at Carson and any sweet thoughts I had about him are quickly being erased. “I didn’t kick him out. He left on his own without saying a word to me!”

My shouting attracts the attention of Imogene and Lauren. They stop dancing and drinking to join us in the dining room.

“Carson, you know that Jess is not responsible for what Dylan has done. She didn’t know he was so serious about her,” Imogene says, sounding pretty sober.