Carridelle – Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen: The Museum Visit

Friday morning Carrie woke to the incessant ringing of her cell phone. Whoever was calling her was damned and determined to get her out of bed. Well they could wait! If she wasn’t picking up her phone there was a reason. She would check her messages as soon as she got a shower and had her cup of coffee.  The hot water poured over her and she felt slightly more alive then she had a few minutes before. When she touched her face the memories of the horrid dream came flooding back. It was just a dream, right? It was unlike any that she had ever had before. In fact, she rarely suffered from nightmares. It had to be something that made her feel threatened but what? Was it Jon that she sensed in her dream? Was it Charlie? It was so real, as if she had suppressed a memory and suddenly it came to the surface. Only, she had no moments like that in her life.

When she was done showering and had her breakfast, she got her cell phone and checked  the messages. There were two from Raymond and three from Jon. Oh God, she thought as she sat down. So many calls in that short of time could only mean bad news. Was it her parents? Had something happened to their boat? She dialed Raymond’s number and was relieved when he answered on the first ring.

“What is it Ray?”

“Well hello to you to sunshine!” said Ray, hearing the panic in her voice, but not yet understanding it.

“Don’t give me hello. What happened? I have five messages here two from you and three from Jon all from this morning. Is something wrong? Is someone hurt? My parents? Tomas? Jon’s mother?” Carrie’s voice escalated in panic

“No, no one is hurt. It is just, well I was wondering if you were ready to come back yet? I really think you should.” He was trying not to mettle. Tomas would be furious, but Carrie was one of his oldest and dearest friends and he would not se her hurt.

“No, I’m not ready yet Ray. I am still doing research and it is fascinating stuff. Why should I come back Ray what’s wrong? Did something happen to my apartment? My contract?” She reviewed all the major things in her head and could not imagine where Ray was going with this.

“No it is just well, I think Jon misses you sweetie.”  Ray told her as gently as he could. He was not meddling, not repeating rumors; just advising, as one friend would do for another.

“Oh please Raymond, if that is all it is. As a matter of fact he called me today too. I told you that. If he wants to see me, he knows where to find me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He mumbled, but Carrie didn’t hear him.

“What Ray? My phone keeps cutting out. I need to charge it.”

“Carrie, I’ll let you go but before I do just be careful and if he hurts you I’m coming after him, pink boxing gloves and all.” He joked. It was an offhanded attempt at humor to cover the insecurity and fear he was suffering on her behalf. But all she heard was pink boxing gloves and she wondered what that was all about.

She charged her phone and went about tidying up the house. She dusted and vacuumed and as she did she looked at all of the things that had given her clues over time. She somehow thought that this house had held a lot of love locked between its doors. If only she could guess what had happened to make it go so wrong.

She called Jon back as soon as she was finished. She tried to clear her mind so that she could concentrate on him.

“Jon…..”

“Carrie….” They slipped back into their old routine so easily. Their voices softened when they spoke. There was no tremendous rush though, no quickening of the heart. It was simply two kindred souls acknowledging the love they had for one another. Perhaps a love born more out of time then anything else.

“How have you been Jon? Have you been busy? I’ve missed you.” Her thoughts were filling her mind and her heart as she spoke. There was something else there now. What emotion was that? Lingering doubts or maybe guilt? Whichever, Carrie pushed it aside.

“I have been fine and I have missed you too. We need to talk Carrie. There are so many questions left unanswered things that are better talked over in person. I’m coming down there tonight. I want to see you and have dinner perhaps?”

“Sure that would be lovely, what time will you be coming?”

“Around six okay?”

“I might be a little late I have a ‘date’ with a sixteen year old first.”

Jon laughed. He knew that she was merely playing with him. “Okay will you send me the address of the restaurant? Text me,  I have meetings all afternoon.”

“I will Jon. See you later.” And they ended the call without so much as an I love you. Where had the romance gone?

The hours of the day passed slowly and when five o’clock came Carrie dressed with caution and headed out into the chilled evening air. A storm was evident, and it seemed prophetic. She drove to the museum with suppressed excitement. That amulet would not solve her puzzle, but it would give her a damn good clue.

Freddy was excited to see her, and he acted the proper gentleman. As a bonus, he was a knowledgeable tour guide. He patiently answered all of Carrie’s questions and shot her a few of his own about writing. As they went form room to room, Freddy dutifully locked each door. He took his job seriously, Carrie noted and she respected that. She also realized that he would not let her touch that amulet if his life depended on it.

When they reached the last room, Carrie felt the same sensation crawl down her spine. She felt a tightening in her chest, a fear that she could not explain.  Freddy put his keys down on the glass case, sensing that she needed a moment. Carrie was busy trying to think of an errand to send him on, when fate again stepped in to lend a hand. A honking of a car horn outside led Freddy to the window.

“Oh, that’s my girl,” he told Carrie shyly. I told her you were coming tonight but she didn’t believe me. Mind if I bring her up here to meet you?”

“Oh no, I would be delighted,” said Carrie, “But Freddy? Take your time, let her think it was her idea, okay? Girl’s like to be in charge you know.”

“Thanks Ms. Stenson.” He said and loped down the stairs like a baby giraffe, all limbs with no idea what to do with them.

Carrie eyed the case. The quick diversion would give her just enough time. Luckily there was only one key on Freddy’s key ring small enough to fit the lock.  She popped it open and removed the amulet from its stand. Carefully taking the pin out of her purse, she inserted it, A picture slid out the opening in the top. It was a different kind of locket and the pin was the key. Carrie studied the picture for a brief second. It was clearly the governor when he was a child, but what did that have to do with anything? Hearing voices, she shut the case quietly and locked it tight. Freddy never saw what she did, but his girl had caught a quick glimpse. With the shrewd eyes of a young lady bordering on the thin walkway between girlhood and womanhood, she recognized the pleading in Carrie’s eyes and said nothing. Freddy introduced them and they embraced like old friends, Carrie grateful to the young girl for keeping her secret.

Carrie drove to the restaurant, a quiet out of the way place a mile from the house she was staying in. She had not been here with Charlie, so it did not seem wrong. She parked the car and dodging between the raindrops she ran inside. She left her headlights on but she never even noticed.

Jon was waiting for her. He sat at a table looking deep in thought; studying his hands as though they had the answers to life’s questions. He stood as Carrie entered and they embraced. He kissed her on the mouth, but to the casual observer it was a kiss of friendship, not one of lovers who had been apart so long.

They exchanged pleasantries while waiting for the food. He told her of the comings and goings of all of their friends in Philadelphia. He gave her the letter that Lea had sent for her. Carrie told him of the house she stayed in, of its beautiful antiques and the odd characters strewn about town. She almost shared the ghost story, but stopped herself. The story did not belong to him. It was hers and she felt no need to share it with anyone but Charlie.

The subject of them never came up until dessert. Jon approached it like a businessman approaches a sales pitch.

“Carrie, we are avoiding the topic tonight. Do you have an answer for me?” Carrie started to speak but he stopped her, “No not yet. I have missed you Carrie. I want you in my life. I want you to marry me and raise my children. Please. We fit so well together you and I. Can’t you see it in our cozy little house in the suburbs with our children and our dog and a minivan to get us back and forth? You will never need to write again. You invested so well and I make more then enough now for both of us. Things are looking up Carrie.”

He annoyed her. No he enraged her. Take care of his kids? Never write again? How could he think that she could stop? Give it all up at the drop of a hat? Didn’t he know by now that writing was an extension of her? It was not an occupation. It was like breathing air, like liquid coursing through her veins. It was a need not a whim.

“Jon, the problem is you want me to marry you, but on your terms. I don’t want a quiet house in the suburbs. I want children yes, but not like that. I want them to have adventure, to breath city air and country air.” She almost said to live on a ranch but she pushed it back harshly in her mind. “I want to continue my career, not stop writing. I cannot stop writing anymore then you can stop drawing. It is as much a part of me as it is to you!”

“Alright, Carrie so we keep your apartment and you can go there to write your little books,” he patronized her,  “and maybe we get a Sport Utility instead of a minivan but it will still work.”

Was he always this blind; this much of an imbecile that he could not see what he was doing? “Jon, they are not my little books. I am a writer and a popular one at that. I am good at what I do Jon. Perhaps if you ever took the time to read them you could see that. We do not fit well together if this is your idea of a marriage. It is all your way or not at all. No, don’t patronize me again Jon. If you cannot respect me and learn to accept me for who I am then we do not belong together.” She waited for him to say she was wrong. She wanted him to give in just a little and then she would too. If he would just show signs of respecting her, then she would say yes… maybe… did she even want to?

But pride is a vicious mistress and she makes a bitter enemy. Jon did not think but he spoke. He wanted to hurt her, like she was hurting him. He wanted to be the last one to finish it.  “Well, I guess it is just as well that my bed was not empty while you were playing away down here,” he said loudly with a snide smile.

Carrie stared at him dumfounded. She was outraged and hurt. It was as though he had sucker punched her. She picked up her bowl of tiramisu and very elegantly dumped it into his lap. “Maybe that will cool down your desires,” she said and left the restaurant with as much dignity as she could muster.

Tears streaming down her face she ran to her car. She tried to start it but it would not start. She realized too late that she had left the lights on and she slammed her head down on the steering wheel. She glanced up at the restaurant. He would be coming out soon and she would be damned if she needed him or she would let him see her cry. She got out of the car and began to walk to her house in the rain. She kept her head held high.

Jon paid the bill and shooed away the waiters that were trying to help him clean up his suit. The sniveling young men were laughing at him. He knew it. In their place he would have done the same. He could not believe that he told her he was having an affair and in such a callous manner. He meant to never tell her. He meant to keep it a secret and not hurt her, but he could not stop himself. As he left the building he saw her car there and guessed what had happened. “The damn fool is out walking in the rain,” he said, and he got into his car to try to find her.

Carrie was halfway home when a car slowed down behind her. She didn’t look back, knowing it was him and she steeled herself for battle. But when the car pulled alongside her, she saw that was not Jon but Charlie.

“Climb in,” he commanded. He didn’t know why she was out here like this but he sure as hell would find out. Damn girl was going to kill herself if he didn’t wring her neck first.

Carrie on the other hand had no desire to let Charlie see her like this. She would not fall before two men in one night so she choked out that she was fine and continued to walk.

Charlie could hear the panic in her voice. He knew something was wrong. “Like hell you are. Get out of the rain and in here damn it! Or do I have to drag you in here?”

When she heard the next car turn the corner behind her, she climbed in quickly. She said nothing but Charlie guessed. He just didn’t expect to feel so angry about it. He gave her his coat to keep her warm and measured his words and feelings carefully before he spoke.  “Jon?”

Carrie managed to nod a yes. “Did he hurt you?” Charlie said and his fists tightened on the steering wheel.

“No,” she said softly as she laid a hand on his arm, “not the way you’re thinking.”  He was content with that and drove her home, but he took a back road just to throw the asshole behind him off the track.

They walked into the house together and Charlie experienced no fear. His overwhelming feelings for Carrie had surpassed anything else. “Go on and get changed. I’ll make you some hot tea and get you some aspirin. You’re bound to catch pneumonia walking in the cold rain like that.”

“He’s coming Charlie.” She said and her eyes pleaded with him not to be angry.

He saw the look but wasn’t sure how he felt about her or him or any of this yet. There would be time to sort his feelings out. They both needed time. “I know it. Now go on and get dried off.” 

Before she could move, the pounding on the door came hard and fast and Carrie jumped to open it. Charlie stood behind her, out of view, but close enough to hear what they were saying.

“Go Jon. Leave. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you near me.”

“Carrie, let me explain. I didn’t want you to find out that way. I would have told you, but not that cruelly. It was a mistake…she was.  I never meant for it to happen…”

“You bastard! You had no intentions of ever telling me did you? You wanted me to marry you and get on with our lives. I would have been the perfect little wife that you were sleeping around on! Well, no! Not me! Go marry your little whore Jon. You belong with her.” The shrill whistle of the teakettle directed both of their attention inside and an unseen hand turned it off.

“Who’s in there with you? Is there someone there?” He asked her, badgering her with his increasing temper. He was shouting.

“Just leave Jon.”

“There is someone there isn’t there? You conniving little slut! You were shacked up down here the whole time…”

Charlie couldn’t hold back any longer. No one would talk to her like that. He stepped up to the door. Carrie put her hand on Charlie’s chest to stop him, but his eyes snapped to her and she thought better of it. His rage was palpable.

“The lady asked you to leave,” he said in a quiet and deadly controlled voice.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Jon, but he backed down a step or two as he said it.

“I’m her friend and your worst nightmare if you don’t get the hell out of here.” he said. Jon got in the car and left, but not before throwing some more veiled threats her way. Charlie quietly closed the door but kept his back to Carrie. He didn’t want to face her now. She had gone out with this man on a date and even though he knew she had every right, it still hurt him. The asshole was practically her fiancé. What right did he have to be angry? He got a hold of his feelings before he turned around.

“Charlie, I…”  he stopped her with a wave of his hand. He got her the hot tea and the aspirin. He made her go upstairs to bed and wrapped the blankets around her. She told him about the arguments she had with Jon. Charlie patiently listened as he gently dried her hair. Carrie was shivering and he kissed her forehead just to see if she had a temperature the way his mother used to do.

“You’re burning up. I’m leaving your phone here. You call me if you need me. I’m going to call the doctor and have him come over tomorrow. I’ll have Buffy bring you some food that won’t kill you. I hope Cook’s soups are safe.” Carrie managed a weak smile. “I think it’s best that I leave for now.” She nodded her understanding and was already drifting into an exhausted slumber.

They both needed time. He told himself this was best. He would not be a rebound romance for her With one last look back at her bedroom window, he drove away. He missed the small adjustment of the curtain as unseen eyes watched him leave.