Carridelle

Hi gentle readers – welcome to my second novella, Carridelle. Come along on her journey, escaping the banality of every day life with a little romance, adventure, and a few ghosts sprinkled in between.

Carrie felt trapped. She didn’t know how or why she had come to feel this way but there was no other way to explain it. This was just the last dip in the emotional roller coaster that she had been riding these past few weeks. “I want us to get married,” he had said to her. “Right now, before another moment passes.” The words fell out of his mouth and hit her right in the gut like a TKO in the last round of a prize-winning fight. And perhaps that was for the best. After all, that was how Carrie and Jon had been getting along lately, like boxers in a match, circling around and around the ring, sparring off whenever they met.

“What does he want from life anyway?” Carrie said to herself, her voice quivering with emotion, as she traveled the familiar route from his house in the suburbs to her apartment in the center of one of the busiest cities on the East Coast. “We practically live together as it is. Why can’t it stay that way? Married! He wants to get married.” Carrie was so upset that she was unconscious of how badly she was driving.  Her car was all over the road, erratic, just like her emotions. She paid no attention to the white lines and the yellow lines; they went by in a blur. The flash of red and blue lights in here rearview mirror brought her back to reality and she pulled her car over to the side of the road.

Carrie reached for her wallet and instinctively rubbed her sleeve over her cheeks and her nose, trying to wipe away the traces of an emotional woman. It would do no good to be seen like this. Pushing the button to roll down the window, she wondered at how modern conveniences had changed the world and yet ironically the man she was in love with had old-fashioned ideals. “Is there a problem officer?”

“License and registration please ma’am.” The tall officer said without even looking in the window of the car. If he had he would have known her immediately. Carrie fished out her license and handed it to him. Officer Johnson took the license and immediately flipped out his ticket book. It was an extension of him, a natural flow. At any other time, Carrie might have stopped to write that little detail down. She was paid to notice things like that.

“Carridelle Stenson? That’s an unusual name Carridelle.” He said, as he looked it over.

“Most people call me Carrie,” she sighed as she was still trying to gain control of her emotions.

 If a passer-by had looked, they might have seen the proverbial light bulb go off over Officer Johnson’s head. He shined the flashlight in the car for the first time, taking stock of the driver he had pulled over.  “The Carrie Stenson? The author? Oh my wife reads all of your books.”

Great, thought Carrie, an adoring fan. Usually, Carrie would have loved to meet a faithful reader, but not this time, not now.

 “I have to confess, I read them too. I guess that’s okay though since they are romance and crime mysteries as well. You got a real knack for writing, but if the boys at the station knew I read your stuff, well I’d never hear the end of it. Hey ma’am, are you alright?” It took him a full five minutes to notice she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. In another time and place she would have written that down too, so typical of the men in her stories, this guy would have made a good character.

Carrie was not one to divulge personal information, but the officer had caught her off guard. “Ma’am,” he repeated a little louder, “are you alright?”

Startled out of her reverie by his resonating voice she volunteered, “Married, he wants to get married.” Shaking her head, Carrie tried to relieve the stupefaction that she was experiencing.

“Oh, a lovers’ quarrel, eh? Well seems to me like you ought to be pretty good at figuring those out,” he said, and he winked at her, obviously proud of his own cleverness and witty repartee.

“You would think so wouldn’t you?” Carrie asked rhetorically, wanting to crawl under the seat and disappear from this trite banter between them. Couldn’t he write the ticket and leave? Couldn’t he see that she just wanted to be alone? Carrie wanted nothing more then to go home and sit in front of the fire in her cozy apartment and curl up with a great bottle of wine. She wanted to escape and get absolutely stinking drunk.

“Alright, little missy, I guess I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but only if I can get your autograph for my wife. She won’t believe this.”

Carrie cringed at his use of the term “little missy.” It was chauvinistic and pig-headed, much like Jon was being. Still, she wanted to get out of there and smiled politely as she signed the piece of paper Officer Johnson thrust in front of her. She gave him her autograph and a warm friendly smile to mask the overwhelming feelings she was experiencing.

“Well, that is really nice of you ma’am. Now do us all a favor and be a little more careful driving. These roads are dark at night, and we wouldn’t want one of our city’s finest authors injured out here.”

“I’ll be more careful, Officer Johnson, I promise.” Carrie gave him an innocent doe-eyed expression and smiled a slight smile. She was hoping that perhaps a little flattery and a little bit of honesty might get her home just a little quicker this evening. “I’ll pay more attention to this road here and it will be easy now that you have made me feel so comfortable. You are doing a wonderful job officer. I wonder if perhaps I might get out of here now. I hate to cut short any meeting with a fan, especially someone that leads such an intriguing life. But I do happen to have a terrible headache.” Carrie told the officer hoping that her flattery didn’t seem too overdone. She just wanted some privacy tonight. The officer let her go and she drove home without another problem.

When Carrie finally arrived home, there was a message on her machine. Predictably, it was from Jon.  She thought about ignoring it, but the incessant blinking light was driving her to distraction.

“Carrie, it is 1:30 and I am a little worried about you. You should have arrived home by now and I hope that you are there and not hurt somewhere. I hope that you are just sitting there ignoring this message but give me a call either way. I am really worried. You were so upset when you left. Please, call me I’ll wait up for you. I love you Carrie”
 

She thought about letting it go and making him suffer the way he made her suffer tonight. She wasn’t even sure why she was so upset with him, but she would ponder that in a moment.  She poured herself a large glass of wine and took a few sips before she picked up the phone and mechanically punched in Jon’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“Oh Carrie, thank God you are okay.”

“I’m fine Jon.” She paused, weighing her options, the truth or just an omission. She settled for the truth; she owed him that much.  “I had a little run in with the law.”

“The law? Are you alright Carrie what happened?” Jon’s voice was rising in panic on the other end of the phone. He really did love her.

“I’m fine Jon the lovely officer just thought I was drunk. I wasn’t but I’m about to be.” Carrie giggled.

“Carrie, this is serious. I think we need to talk about us about, about our future, about what happened tonight.” Jon sounded so worried.  She almost gave in, but she couldn’t do it. Something was holding her back.

“Alright, Jon,” she said, her voice softening with the sweet tones of one in love, “we’ll talk, but not tonight. Swing by my place tomorrow after work. We’ll talk then.”

“Good night love,” he said.

“Good night.” Carrie said and replaced the phone in its cradle.

She needed to think, to think about what she could say to him to make him understand. Probably not the kind of thinking she should be doing while under the influence of alcohol, but what the hell? She stared restlessly around the room. She needed some ambience, something to start her mind working.

Carrie walked over to the fireplace, struck one of the long matches and watched it sizzle for a moment. She let the smell of sulfur wash over her. It was always one of her favorite scents. It reminded her of the best things in life: fireplaces, bonfires in autumn, romantic candlelight, and birthday wishes. Most people hated the smell of a lit match, but then Carrie wasn’t most people.

From the fireplace, she crossed the room to her stereo system. Browsing through her eclectic music collection, she finally settled on a compilation CD of her favorite R&B artists. It just fit her mood right then, melancholy. She put the CD in the drive and left it on repeat. Moving back to the kitchen, she scooped up her large bottle of white wine and went to curl up on the couch, to stare at the fire and contemplate where she was going in life. It served to put her in a reflective mood, and she thought back to when she first met Jon.