Right Back Where We Started Read online

  “He, uh, he stayed home today,” Carter said, and Martina thought it was a good cover.

  Willow huffed impatiently. “Then why are we even here?”

  “I feel like that's a question we're all asking, Mom,” Carter said, straight-faced. Then he snickered.

  “Don't,” Martina said, giggling for a moment before she sobered. “If you get me started, I'm not going to be able to stop.”

  He put his fist in front of his mouth, like he was trying to stuff the laughter back in, but it wasn't working.

  “Don't,” Martina said, laughing again. “Don't. Seriously, Carter.” She looked around. “Let's not make a scene in this fancy golf club, all right?”

  “Too late. I'm gonna get drunk and make you drag me out of here.”

  “Welcome back, High School Crash. I did not miss you.”

  He laughed. “I never did that to you.”

  “Only because you didn't want to get arrested. There was the time you got drunk at Elk Lake after we took the ATVs up there with the soccer team. Trying to wrangle all of you plus the vehicles back onto the trailer, then drive it down the mountain myself? Not so fun.”

  He put a hand over his mouth. “Present Me would like to apologize for Past Me, on so many levels.”

  “Apology accepted.” She held his gaze for a long moment, and she knew they weren’t just talking about the ATVs.

  The waiter brought Carter's beer and Martina and Willow's raspberry kombucha. Carter lifted an eyebrow at her choice.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he laughed, but his eyes . . . they had the kind of pixie-dust sparkle that usually preceded a kiss, and in her heart, she wanted that. She wanted his teasing and his kisses and his touch. I did miss this Crash, the one who adored me. There was no denying it anymore. She needed him back. She needed him.

  This was going to be complicated. And there was no way he was doing that bachelor auction.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I'M GOING TO WRITE a book on this someday,” Carter announced. They were in the kitchen, sitting on stools at the island, eating brownies and ice cream Mrs. Sánchez had made after she heard about their day. Willow had been asleep for an hour; they’d nearly lost her at dinner, when she nodded off so hard she startled herself. Martina had hurried her upstairs, praying she wouldn’t hurt herself on the way.

  “On employing your ex-girlfriend or on living with an early-onset AD patient?”

  “The second one.”

  “That's the way I'd go, too.”

  “And today has inspired a chapter called, 'How to take someone with AD golfing.'”

  “And what will you write in this chapter?”

  “It's a short one,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “'Don't.'”

  The laughter started as a tremor in her abs, shaking its way up into her chest and shoulders. She couldn't hope to hold it in, but she slapped a hand over her mouth, even as tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She was completely silent, but her body was wracked with laughter; she hadn't laughed so hard in years. She tipped over, resting her head on his shaking shoulder, unable to support her own weight. Mrs. Sánchez appeared in the doorway.

  “Everything is okay?”

  They nodded, still laughing, and she smiled at them as she left. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” they called after her, still laughing. Carter lifted his arm and draped it around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “That was a day.”

  “That was a day,” she agreed. And then more tears started coming that tasted like sadness and fear instead of laughter. “But it was my fault.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Brakes, please.”

  “No, it was. I was distracted. I was too focused on—” you “—the game, and I should have known better.”

  “I can't believe I'm saying this, but remember the online classes you sent me? I actually took them. All of them. And do you know what lesson one was about? Wandering. Because people with Alzheimer's wander, at all stages of the disease.”

  “But I'm a professional,” she lamented, the tears coming harder now. “It's not supposed to take me by surprise.”

  Carter laughed, wiping the tears from her face with his thumbs. Then he kissed her, like he did it every day. It was the type of casual kiss between long-time lovers that one thinks nothing of; a kiss when leaving for work, a kiss when getting home from the store. A kiss at the mailbox because your tax refund finally came and now you can buy that TV you've both been wanting. Entirely natural. So natural that Martina gave him one back. Carter kissed her again, a little longer this time, the warmth of his lips both calming and exciting. And when he drew back, she followed him; it wasn't even conscious at this point. She felt pulled toward him by his wood sage and sea salt cologne. They both stumbled off their stools to stand in front of each other, the heat of their bodies ricocheting between them as they passed innocent kisses back and forth. He touched her hair, letting his hands drift down the length of it, wrapping his fists in it, even as the kisses increased in duration and intensity. She stayed focused solely on his lips, not letting her gaze stray to meet his. Because if she looked into his eyes, she'd know for sure whether he regretted this instead of just fearing that he did. And if she looked into his eyes, he'd know how badly she wanted this, wanted even more, which she had no right to ask for. He'd know that her soul had finally come out of hiding just now. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and she felt his hot hands on her hips, drawing her closer. Then on her next turn, eyes squeezed shut, she nipped at his bottom lip, and he groaned. Carter's French kisses were even sweeter than she remembered, and she relaxed into his embrace. What had they been talking about before? She couldn't remember. Oh, right. She’s a professional. Crap.

  She'd promised, and she never broke her promises. And that didn't feel amazing. Dread pooled in her belly. She could not get fired. But she definitely wanted to do more of this. She wanted to consider her options, but it was very hard to think with Carter touching her like that, so reverently and alluringly at the same time. She'd need to stop kissing him back. That didn't seem likely to happen any time soon without divine intervention. She waited for it. Nothing happened. It seemed that God unfortunately wanted her to woman up and deal with her own choices.

  When she dodged his lips, he moved his kisses to her neck. “Carter . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  She was supposed to be moving back a little, getting some perspective, but her traitorous mouth kept saying things like “yes” and “that feels good” and “missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, too, Tini,” Carter panted. Then, without her having to ask, he stopped. “We should . . . we should talk, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “We should talk.” He was still holding her, and she looked up into his ice-blue eyes. They were melting, heated and affectionate, but she saw no trace of regret, and she felt the tension bleed from her neck and shoulders.

  “I still love you, Martina.” He kissed her again, just a little one, and it felt suspiciously like he was trying to keep her from replying. “I want to be together.”

  “I . . .” she swallowed hard. “I love you, too.”

  As if this settled the matter, he beamed at her like she'd just crowned him king and leaned forward to kiss her again.

  She put a hand on his chest. “But . . .”

  He paused. “But?”

  “But this is complicated for me, Carter. My contract is very clear: I am not allowed to fraternize with my boss.”

  “So quit and come work for me directly . . .” He managed to land a sweet kiss just below her ear.

  “Also not allowed. I signed a non-compete. If I take you on as a client and cut her out, she could sue me. I can't afford that.”

  “I can,” he said. “No problem.”

  “But what if something happens between us and you fire me? Who would I work for then? Go back to the hospital? I don't want to be blackballed in the community.” She sat down hard
on her stool with a sigh. After a long moment, he sat down, too.

  “Okay. I hear you. I guess I didn't think about it from your perspective . . . but those are some serious risks.” He let his gaze fall to the wooden floor, and she could almost hear what he was thinking. And I don't know if I'm worth it to you.

  “You are incredibly important to me. But so is Willow, and I know it would be difficult for you to find a replacement for me.” She reached out and took his hand. “I'd like some time to think about this. To figure out what to do.”

  He nodded slowly, then gave a rueful smile. “I've decided: adulting sucks sometimes.”

  Martina chuckled. “Why, because High School Crash would be carrying me upstairs like a fireman right now?”

  “Adult Carter was tempted, too. But he decided to talk things over first.”

  She tried to smile at him reassuringly. “He missed his chance.”

  “I hope not,” Carter said softly, then frowned. “Not for sex, for . . . all of it. For a relationship with you again.”

  “No, I know.” She paused, attempting to collect her courage from wherever she'd cast it off earlier. “Let’s just press pause here. I'm gonna take a few days off, and then we can talk.”

  “Martina, what happened at the golf course, it really wasn't your fault. These things happen. Please don't feel responsible.”

  “It's not just that, it's . . .” She dared to look into his eyes. “Everything.”

  “I understand.” But he looked crestfallen again, and that made her want to kiss him. She put her hands on his chest, and he looked down at her, his eyes troubled.

  “Trust me, okay?” she said.

  “Yeah, I do. I trust you.” He swallowed. “Can I text you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I call you?”

  She smiled. “Yes, that'd be fine.”

  “Can I come over?”

  Her smile grew. “That's probably not a great idea, especially given that I'm supposed to be figuring out if we can make this work.”

  “We can.” He tangled their fingers and kissed the back of her hand. “I know we can. I'll do whatever it takes.”

  “Even fire me?”

  The puppy-dog eyes were back.

  “Ugh. Crash, put those away!”

  “Why?” He grinned. “Are they getting to you?”

  “Yes!” She pushed at his shoulder, and he laughed. “They always did.”

  He sobered. “I’m not firing you. Please don’t ask me to. We’ll work this out.”

  “Okay.” She leaned into him again, looking at his lips longingly.

  “You want another kiss?” he teased, and she nodded, giving him the puppy-dog eyes, and he laughed.

  “Okay, but just one,” he breathed, pinning her against the island, and she smiled as his lips met hers again and again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  MARTINA WAS IN THE bath. It smelled like peppermint, which reminded her that it was Christmas Eve. She sighed, and the bubbles in front of her went flying. She’d been gone from work for two days, and she was already antsy to get back. But she hadn’t figured out any solutions while she’d been out. And Carter was trying to take care of his mom by himself, which was not a great solution for a lot of reasons.

  Carter: What do I do when she says she wants to go home?

  Carter: I tried telling her she *was* home, and it went over like a lead balloon.

  Martina: Listen to the feeling behind the words: she feels scared that I’m not

  there.

  Carter: Okay, so . . .

  Carter: Tell her she’s safe here?

  Martina: That’s a good start. And tell her she can go home in a few minutes,

  then try to get her distracted by something else. A puzzle, a TV show, a nap. Maybe she wants to water the pansies we planted last week.

  Carter: We’ll try pansies. Thanks.

  Carter: Also, when do you think you might be back? She just threw a shoe at

  me.

  Martina: Stiletto?

  Carter: No, a ballet flat.

  Martina: Aw, that’s nothing.

  Carter: Also, I miss you. And not just because you’re an amazing nurse.

  Martina: I miss you, too.

  She wanted to hug the phone to her chest, but she was wet. She was just reaching to put it down by her red-and-white-striped candle when she noticed an email notification. Your contract has been terminated. She sat up quickly, sloshing water out of the tub and onto the floor, nearly dropping her phone into the bathtub. She didn’t want to be naked when she read this; she hurried to get her robe on and get to her bedroom. Snow White, Rajah, and Charming were snuggled up together on her bed, but Rajah hissed and jumped down when she sat down.

  Dear Ms. Lopez,

  I’m sorry to have to send this on Christmas Eve, but it can’t wait. It has been brought to our attention that you have violated the terms of your contract by fraternizing with the person who contracted your employment. We were sent digital evidence of you and Carter Carpenter engaged in intimate physical activity in the home where your patient resides. Since we cannot be liable for such relationships in a place of business, this contract has been terminated by Partners in Care. If you feel this in error, you may contact us at 503-819...

  Digital evidence? Who in the world would have digital . . . Harrison. He must have used the closed circuit video feed. He’d been watching them, waiting for her to screw up. She let her chin fall to her chest.

  Martina: I got fired.

  Carter: Honey, that’s not amusing.

  Martina: Not a joke.

  The phone rang. She answered, flopping back onto her bed.

  “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Nope. Just got an email. I think it was your dad. Did you let him onto the closed circuit feed?”

  “Yeah, he said . . .” Carter cursed. “He said he wanted to be able to check on Mom during the day. I should’ve seen right through that.”

  “Do you think we should put out a hit on him?” Martina asked. It was a joke, but it wasn’t funny, and no one laughed.

  “I don’t know. Who do we know who hates Harrison more than we do?” He paused, thinking. “Wait. I might be able to answer that. I need some time.” He paused. “Don’t call Santiam for your old job back yet, okay? Just . . . just wait.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait.”

  “Don’t panic, okay?”

  “I’m panicking a little bit.”

  “No, no. I think I can fix this. Just . . . I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t do anything.”

  He hung up without saying goodbye and Martina let the phone slip through her fingers and fall onto the bed. She lay there a long time with her eyes closed, eyes burning with unshed tears.

  “MERRY CHRISTMAS, SON.” Harrison was waiting at the bottom of the stairs the next morning, still in his pajamas and robe, coffee in hand. Mrs. Sánchez had the morning off; he must have made it himself. Nice to know he still knew how. Ignoring him entirely, Carter went into the kitchen and found his mom sitting at the island, eating scrambled eggs and a cinnamon roll. He helped himself to a pastry, wrapping it up in a paper towel for the road.

  “Look, I’m sure you’re upset about the photos . . .”

  Carter scoffed, but said nothing. He gave his mom a kiss on the forehead. “Someone new is coming to be with you today, Mom.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “When’s Martina coming back?” she asked.

  “Soon, I hope.” He glared at Harrison. “Very soon.”

  “I did the right thing,” his father said, his voice low. “She would’ve used you. It’s better this way.”

  Don’t shout. Don’t play his game. Don’t scare Mom. Just ignore him. Ignore him, and then go fix this.

  “What’s he talking about?” Willow asked, her eyebrows in a deep V. She was more used to Harrison’s presence now, but he still seemed to unsettle her.

  “Nothing.” The doorbell
rang, and his parents both straightened. Carter went to open it himself and winced when he saw Cindy’s smiling face.

  “I’m so sorry, Cindy. It’s really important or I wouldn’t have asked.”

  She waved away his apology. “One of the perils of small business ownership. It’s just me and Mr. Hewes today anyway. The grandkids don’t come until tomorrow.”

  “I should be back tonight. Her meds are clearly marked in the cupboard by the microwave,” he said, handing her the key.

  “Wait, where do you think you’re going? It’s Christmas morning,” Harrison protested, chuckling as if this were a joke. “Don’t you want to open your presents?”

  Carter turned to look at his father’s face for the first time that morning, and he poured all his burning resentment toward the man into his gaze like a lava flow. He had done nothing but screw things up ever since Thanksgiving, and this was the final straw.

  “The only thing I want is for you to leave me alone.” To his credit, Harrison actually took a step back before he caught himself; apparently, even a snake like his father could recognize when he was in physical danger. Turning his back on the man, he put on his tattered running shoes and his wool pea coat. He hoped the rehab center didn’t have a dress code, because this was the best he could do today.

  The drive to Bend felt longer than two hours, despite the traffic being light. Carter put on an audio book, a thriller he'd gotten from the library, but he couldn't concentrate. He wished he'd been more proactive about planning out what he was going to say to his brother. The huge evergreens gave way to smaller, scrubbier juniper as far as he could see as he left Sisters. He liked Bend; if he was being honest, it appealed to him more than Portland. It was smaller, less industrial, less corporate, and more cowboy. And if he moved here with Martina, she'd probably die of happiness when she saw all the places she could get tempeh. He chuckled into the quiet air of the car at the thought. It wasn't too early to be planning a future. Mrs. Sánchez had been right; he didn't give himself enough credit. He had good instincts. He wasn't the same person who'd screwed up with her before. Fear wasn't his MO anymore. That was funny, too, because anyone examining High School Crash and Adult Carter side by side would definitely ID his younger self as the confident one. But he was learning to reach for his own opinions instead of spouting what he knew would be popular or socially acceptable. So much of their high school years, for both him and Martina, had been about their image, their “friendships.” His father had always been talking about making connections . . . the kind of schmoozy behavior he now left to the salesmen at work. But following that advice, he'd lost that connection with himself that he craved, that sense of what he knew was right in his gut. He felt it when he was with her. He felt strong, like his truest self was outlined in black instead of its usual fuzzy gray.