The Reconstruction of Carla Millhouse (7 page)

And yet, despite her rationale, Carla still wondered if she was doing the right thing. What if pushing Martin away had given him the wrong idea? As she lay there listening to Martin’s breathing, Richard’s image came to mind. Maybe she should talk with Richard and get his thoughts on the matter.

Richard was the first male friend she’d ever had. She truly loved being with Richard and looked forward to seeing him. And if sometimes he looked at her so intensely it made her pulse go into overdrive, she wasn’t going to make too much of it, because it made her feel good. Besides, she knew their relationship was only platonic.

* * *

Noon, the following day, Richard came out of the gym to find Carla frowning at her car door. Curious, he wondered what she was doing and walked over to her.

“Oh, hi, Richard.”

“What are you looking at?”

“My car keys.”

“Your car keys?”

“Uh-huh. You know I was looking for you.”

“Before or after you came out here?” He was becoming increasing curious about her strange behavior.

“Oh, before.”

“Enlighten me. Why are you staring at your keys? He asked finally. “Are they going to do something special?”

“Nope.”

Then why are you standing out here watching them?”

“I’m not watching them,” Carla replied.

“Then what in the world
are
you doing?”

“Wondering how I’m going to get into my car.”

All of a sudden a light bulb turned on and Richard saw the whole picture. “You’re locked out?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” he replied as he shook his head chuckling.

“How can you laugh at a time like this?”

“Wait here,” he said with some laughter remaining in his voice.

“Where’re you going? I need a ride home to get my spare keys,” she called after him. “That’s why I was waiting for you,” she said, but doubted he’d heard a single word. Typical man, she sighed kicking a tire in frustration, as she wondered where Richard had gone and what he was up to.

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the building wearing a huge grin and carrying a wire hanger.

“Glad to have found this. These babies seemed to be coming extinct around here.”

“You can open my car door with a hanger?” she asked.

“Sure. You’d be surprised what these hands can do.”

“Why not just drive me home for the spare pair?”

“Oh, ye of such little faith,” he answered as he began to untwist the top of the hanger. When he’d fashioned it to his satisfaction, he said, “Stand aside and watch a professional work.”

With amazement, Carla watched as Richard deftly slipped the hanger, which now had a small hook on its end, down into her window. She saw the determination etched into his pleasant features and intense concentration in his eyes. It was incredible to watch him maneuver the hanger slowly back and forth until he was able to pull up the door latch. She had a fleeting thought that Martin couldn’t even screw in a light bulb without a manual.

“I’m impressed! You can work both sides of the law. Thank you,” she said happily, enthusiastically throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him, suddenly wanting to stand there all day and breathe in his special scent. It felt so good...

After too many beats to count, they finally broke apart. She had no more idea what had made her act that way, but she found it enjoyable—perhaps a little too enjoyable.

Finally, Richard spoke. “You’re very welcome. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure. Do you mind if my friend, Lynne, joins us? We promised to work out together tomorrow.”

“Of course not. I’d like to get to know her better,” declared Richard.

“Okay. It’s a deal. See you then,” Carla said and got into the car.

As she started the engine, she watched Richard pick up his gym bag and walk over to his BMW. It was green just like his eyes.

Chapter Nine

Carla hadn’t realized just how important Richard had become to her until he had to go away for a few days to depose several clients. She was having lunch with Lynne at the 5 & Diner. Since Carla and Richard had discovered the restaurant, Carla would sometimes meet Lynne there or the three of them would hook up for lunch. Though the friends hadn’t seen or spoken to each other much recently, Lynne was only happy to point out the bitchiness that Carla was exhibiting at the moment.

“You’re awfully cranky. I know you’re not PMSing, ‘cause that was what ruined our last lunch together. So tell me, have you and Martin finally brought his philandering out into the open?”

“Martin, who?”

“Be serious.”

“No. As far as Martin’s concerned I’m in Carlaland and too preoccupied with my writing to have noticed what he’s been up to.”

“So things really haven’t changed?”

“Aside from the fact he’s continued to
work
late
so often without any explanation or isn’t to be found when I happen to call him at the showroom, he hardly says three complete sentences to me at a time. No—pardon me—we’re up to five, since I’ve been losing weight. He’s even made a half-hearted attempt to have sex with me.”

“You’re making progress. So what’s with the attitude?”

Carla took a sip of coffee and scrunched up her eyebrows as she pursed her lips in thought.

“I don’t have a clue. I just feel out of sorts, like something’s missing.”

“Or someone?”

“Lynne, what are you trying to say? I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“I can see that. Chill.”

“I
am
chilling. See? This is me chilling,” Carla said pushing the words through her teeth.

“No, you’re not. And you’d better put that knife down before you gouge a hole in the table and we’re banned from this place.”

“Okay,” Carla said, as she put the knife back on the table, “I’m fine. Tell me what you were going to say before.”

“All I meant was that I think you miss Richard.”

“Richard?”

“Yeah, Richard.”

“Why should I miss Richard?”

“Because he’s away,” Lynne said watching her friend’s reaction.

Carla had begun to play with the crumbs on the table as her right eye began to twitch. Without looking up, she replied, “I hadn’t even noticed he was gone.”

“Like hell, you haven’t. Whenever we get together or talk on the phone, you always bring him into the conversation. Just talking about him you light up like a Christmas tree.”

“We’re just good friends,” Carla replied quickly wondering why she sounded so defensive.

“How long has he been gone?”

“Two and-a-half-days,” answered Carla.

“I rest my case.”

“You tricked me,” Carla protested.

She had to admit she truly missed Richard. She missed the warm glow that his beautiful smile and cheerful voice provided whenever they were together or spoke on the phone. He was only a security blanket—nothing more—she mentally insisted as if to convince herself. She refused to think about his gentle touch of reassurance when she needed it, or his adorable dimples that appeared whenever he smiled…Or think about the scent that was his alone or the play of the muscles on his back as he poised to dive into the pool. And his tight ass,.. Carla nearly groaned. He was just a friend. Nothing more, and after all, she was a married woman…

“Earth to Carla, come in,” Lynne called breaking into her friend’s thoughts. When Carla’s eyes met hers, Lynne asked softly, “Are you sure he’s just a friend?”

“Of course! He’s only a good friend. Are you forgetting I’m trying to win back Martin? There’s no way I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“Whoa! Slow down, kiddo. Adultery never entered my mind.”

However, Carla was able to read between the lines and sensed Lynne thought there might be more to her relationship with Richard. There definitely wasn’t. Of that Carla was certain—or almost certain. She couldn’t explain the strange hollow feeling she often got in the pit of her stomach when they were together or why every time their gazes met, her heart turned over in response. Or the inexplicable erotic dreams she’d have where she was making hot love to Martin who suddenly morphed into Richard. It was Richard’s mouth on her breast, his lips and tongue sucking and licking her nipple, while his large hands parted her curls and stroked her relentlessly. Then he was sliding into her…deeper…deeper…

Carla felt her face heating. She was becoming uncomfortable with the emotions the conversation was stirring up and had a funny feeling that Lynne was scrutinizing her—and with good reason. She often found herself thinking about Richard and that scared her—a lot. Maybe it showed.

Sensing that the conversation had become too intense for Carla, Lynne changed the subject. “Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you. I’ve been dating someone.”

Carla watched Lynne’s face light up and knew that this guy was someone special. She narrowed her eyes. “What? And you didn’t tell me because…”

“I’ve been so busy at work and—”

“No excuse. How did you meet him?” Carla asked.

“He came to the real estate office and rented an apartment a few weeks ago,” Lynne replied, her hazel eyes twinkling.

“So what does he look like? Tell me—and don’t leave out a thing,” Carla said, excitedly.

“He’s so cute. You’ve got to see him. He sort of reminds me of a young Robert Redford with lots of freckles and the deepest blue eyes. Oh, and he’s very tall, too.”

“Next to you, a midget is tall.”

“I’m five feet and one-half inches. Not a midget,” Lynne said, indignantly.

“What does he do for a living?”

“He’s a private investigator. That’s why he’s in Scottsdale. He’s on a job.”

“You sound like you like him.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Hmm. Maybe you can get him to stay after the job is over.”

“Maybe. Yeah—that would be nice,” Lynne said and glanced down at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I have to show a house this afternoon.”

“Good luck. And I hope you make a sale and get a big commission.”

Lynne smiled. “Thanks.”

As they both rose from the table, Lynne reminded, “Call me.”

* * *

Back at home Carla smiled. It was about time her best friend found someone special. Besides, Carla always liked happy endings. She’d been hoping to alter the direction of her own life to ensure a happy ending. That was the point of working out and half-starving in order to get back into shape. In fact, she was more determined than ever to make herself better than she’d been before. A new, improved model fit for any showroom. She smiled at her own mental quip.

A beat later, Carla picked up her cup of coffee and rose from the chair behind her desk. She walked over to the window and stared out at the fenced backyard that ran the length of their small ranch-type house. When she and Martin first purchased the place, she imagined their kids playing on a swing set back there. Instead, it had become Blondie’s domain.

Children. Richard was right; she did want to be a mother. Being Blondie’s mommy didn’t quite cut it, any longer. There would always be that emptiness, a void, that even having Martin back, could never be filled. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned and walked back to grab a tissue from the box on her desk.

She decided to make a fresh pot of coffee and went into the kitchen. On the refrigerator was a calendar with a picture of children gathered around a birthday cake with lit candles on it. It made her think of Martin’s birthday, which was December 20th. Each year, ever since they’d first met, she’d fussed over him on his birthday. Whether it was a special night out or a quiet night in, she planned an evening he’d never forget. Year after year, she wracked her brain to come up with a fresh idea, usually starting to plan a month in advance. However, he never reciprocated. She opened the refrigerator and took out the coffee can. Grabbing a filter from the cabinet over the coffee maker, she began to scoop out the coffee.

For her birthday, it was the usual same-old thing: a dinner out complemented with a gift selected by one of the women who worked at the showroom. Well, she was tired of the same-old, same-old. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, right?

Damn! She’d lost count of the scoops she’d already put into the filter and had to dump the coffee back into the can. Starting again, she tried to remain focused. One, two, not this year…

Despite her lack of concentration, she was able to get the coffee maker going. Why should she put herself out when she had to share him with…whatever her name was? “Well, not this year, buster! Things are gonna be different!” she said aloud to the coffee machine, which only gurgled back in reply.

Good, Lord, Carla thought, I’m really losing it. I’m obsessing about a man who is so self-centered he hardly cares whether or not I’m here. Either he thinks I’m spineless or that I’m too caught up in my writing to confront him. Well, I have news for him. I care. I also have needs and feelings, too! And as soon as I’m back to my new, improved model, watch out! The coffee maker nosily gurgled its approval.