Right Back Where We Started Page 19

  As Carter drove up to the rehab center, which was actually closer to Redmond than Bend, nestled along the Crooked River, he admired the amazing view of Smith Rock. He wondered if he'd still like rock climbing, now that he wasn't constantly chasing a high just to feel something. He parked in visitor parking and walked up to the big front door, nervously adjusting his baseball cap. He felt weird showing up here on Christmas Day to ask for a favor, especially with so many other families here to celebrate. He hadn’t even brought his brother a present. A woman in a long, white flowing skirt with hair to match greeted him. “You must be Carter; you're just in time for lunch. Chase just hopped in the shower, since he was out with the horses this morning.”

  “Great. Thanks.” He sat down on a bench made of twisted wood, raw and strange, yet functional. Chase came down a few minutes later, finger-combing his wet hair.

  “Hey, man!” He greeted him with a bear hug.

  “Hey.”

  “It’s great to see you. Merry Christmas.”

  “Yeah, Merry Christmas. Great to see you, too.” He looked around the lobby of the huge house, searching for something to talk about. “So you were out with the horses?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn't think you liked animals.”

  “I didn't used to.” Chase led him down a hall, out the back door onto a porch with heaters. “I felt weird being in here by myself with everybody else’s families. I'm learning all kinds of things about myself here. The horses help my anxiety.”

  It was strange; Chase had never shared that diagnosis with him before, but as soon as he said it, Carter felt like he had all the corner pieces to the puzzle that was his brother. His nervous stomach, his sweatiness, his restlessness. The way he never seemed to sleep well, the way he snapped at people.

  “Huh.” He couldn't think of anything else to say. “Look, I came here to ask you something, and I kind of need to get it out before I change my mind.”

  “Shoot.”

  Carter took a deep breath. “I need you to take over the payments for Martina.”

  His brother's eyebrows dipped in concern. “Your trust low?”

  “No, my trust is fine. But they canceled our contract, since she’s not allowed to date her employer, and Harrison sent them a picture of me kissing her. So I need you to be her employer.”

  The happy smile that had been spreading across Chase's face fell immediately. “Dad did that? He sabotaged you?”

  “Yeah, he’s never liked—”

  “I hate him. I hate him so much.”

  “I know.” Their interaction this morning was still weighing on him. He liked to think he was an even-keeled person, but Harrison brought out all the storminess in him. His brother’s jaw was still clenched, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, breathing in and out slowly. When they opened again, he was smiling again.

  “Well, we won’t let him win. I knew you two would patch things up.”

  “Well, they're not patched yet, but we're going to try. And this is a big responsibility, Chase. If you don't pay her, Partners in Care will cancel our contract. They had a very strict policy about on-time payments.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I'd be depending on you. We both would.”

  “I want to do this for you. I'm not gonna screw it up this time. I swear. And I’m sure as heck not going to let Harrison win.”

  “I'm not trying to be a jerk, but you said that before. You looked right into my eyes and lied to me.” Carter steeled himself for dramatics: yelling, pushing, turned over tables or chairs, stomping off.

  Chase scooted his chair closer. “I know. You're right, that's true. And I'm sorry. I really am. But all I can do is be a better person from here on out. And I'd really like this opportunity to prove it to you.” Since he was the one who'd asked, he had to agree, but it didn't help the wormy, uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He wanted to trust him, but Chase's track record

  was . . . bad. And this felt too easy. Yet there was definitely something different about Chase. He'd always had kind of a frantic way about him, an edge, even before he was using. That wasn't there now. His hair was longer, and it looked like it was by choice. He wasn't in constant motion, wasn't dominating the conversation or being belligerent and overbearing.

  “Okay. I'll wire the money to you on the tenth, and it's due on the fifteenth.”

  “No.” Chase was forceful. “I want to help. My trust is just sitting there. Seriously. Let me do this.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Carter paused. “Really sure?”

  “Dude! Yes! Come 'ere,” he said, pulling him into a hug. “I can't believe you got your girl back. That's amazing. I'm so happy for you.”

  Carter felt his lower lip trembling, but he couldn't stop it. They'd been fairly close in the past, but up until recently, this warm kind of brotherly affection had been absent. But it still fit just right in the hole in his heart. One of them, anyway. “Thanks,” he whispered, hugging him back, burying his face into his brother's shoulder to hide the tears. He wiped his face with the heel of his hand as they parted. “Don't screw this up.”

  “I'm not going to. You think I could live with that? Damaging three people's lives instead of just mine? No way. I've got all the incentive I need.”

  “Okay.”

  He tugged on Carter's shirt sleeve. “Come on, let's go eat.”

  He started to follow his brother into the house, but then stopped. “And hey, when you get out . . .” That sounded like he'd been in jail again. “I mean, when you're better . . .” That sounded like he needed fixing. Shit.

  Chase laughed lightly. “It's okay, man. Just say it.”

  “If you need a place to crash, you can stay at my condo. It's empty right now, anyway. Or at the estate, of course, but I know you and Harrison don't really get along . . .”

  “Yeah, I don't think the estate's an option. But maybe your place. I'll check it out; it'd be closer to my NA meetings.”

  “Yeah, that'd probably be . . . that'd be good.” He swallowed. “Do you need, like, a sponsor or something? Is that something I could do for you?”

  Chase stared at him, wide-eyed, for a long minute. “Um, no. It has to be someone who's in recovery. But I didn't think you'd even . . .” Chase cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose, like he was trying to stave off tears. “I thought for sure you'd want nothing to do with me. You're a better brother than I deserve.”

  Carter balked at that, kicking at the porch post. “I don't think I really . . .”

  “Yeah, man. You are. Believe it.” Now Chase was swiping at his face, too. “Have you heard from Christopher lately?”

  “He texted me a little on Thanksgiving. But he didn’t come home for Christmas. And he never returns my calls.”

  “See, that's what I deserve. Not you, though. I don't know why he ghosted you.” Carter couldn't cover his surprise; he'd assumed Chase and Christopher were still in contact. They'd talked daily for years, lived together in college; he'd assumed it was a twin thing that he didn't understand.

  Carter took a breath to tell him that he didn’t think he deserved to be ghosted either, but Chase went on. “It was probably easier to trash all of us than to try to pick and choose. Don't take it personal, man.” He sighed, but he was still all energy. “Man, I like your visits. I'm all pumped now about possibilities. Let's go eat and we can talk some more. I know you have to get back on the road, but the food here isn't half bad. We can at least get you something before you have to go . . . oh! They made Christmas cookies!” Carter smiled as he followed his brother's voice back into the house.

  IT WAS AFTER SEVEN o’clock when he pulled back into the garage at the estate. He threw his keys onto the desk in the kitchen and, yawning, he poked his head into the fridge to see what they’d had for dinner. As usual, his plate was wrapped up in aluminum foil, labeled with his name by Mrs. Sánchez. He was just about to put it in the microwave when she hurried into the kitchen.<
br />
  “Oh thank God, you’re back. Please. Please, come.”

  Her tone was urgent, so he quickly followed her out of the kitchen and up the back staircase. He heard the tantrum before he saw her: they were in the music room, and it was a disaster area.

  “Please, Mrs. Carpenter,” Cindy was pleading, and she sounded on the edge of tears. A thick red book went flying through the doorway and nearly hit Carter as he tried to go inside. Unsurprisingly, his father was nowhere to be seen.

  “Mom?”

  “Carter?” She froze mid-throw, another volume of a music theory text in her hand, poised to try to take someone’s head off with it. “You’re back.”

  “Of course I’m back,” he said, approaching her slowly. “How are you feeling, Mom?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “Martina. I need Martina. She was supposed to come today. She comes almost every day. And when she’s not here, you’re here. Where is she?”

  “Martina will come by to see you very soon. I promise. Do you want the cat she gave you?” It was a stuffed animal that looked like Charming, her tortoiseshell cat. He’d seen a lot of pictures. A lot. Willow nodded vigorously.

  “I think it’s in your bedroom, shall we go get it together?”

  “I don’t know the way,” she sobbed. Stepping carefully over a bent flute, scattered sheet music, and a violin bow that would need all new horsehair to ever be functional again, he wrapped his arms around his mom and held her as she cried.

  “I’ll show you. It’s okay. I’m here for you,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay.” Carter glanced around. Cindy stood in the corner by the door; defeated didn’t begin to describe her posture. She ran a shaking hand through her short hair, brushing her fingers over a large ketchup stain on her polo shirt. At least, he hoped it was ketchup.

  He gave her a little wave without releasing Willow, and she waved back, swaying a little on her feet.

  “Don’t leave, please. We need to talk,” he murmured as he ushered Willow out of the room, and Cindy nodded in agreement. Carter found the stuffed cat, laid out two sets of pajamas, and helped her brush her teeth, then tucked her in. Reducing risk was what he excelled at: he just needed to convince Cindy that she could trust him. That Martina was trustworthy; he at least needed to get her job back, even if she didn’t want to be together. He found Cindy in the kitchen, staring at Martina’s daily report form.

  “Thank you for taking care of my mother today.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said faintly, then she shook her head. “All I heard about all day was Martina. From your mother, from the rest of the staff, especially Mrs. Sánchez. They seem to think she’s some kind of miracle worker.”

  “I’m inclined to agree. That’s why I’ve asked my brother to re-hire her.”

  Cindy looked up sharply. “Which brother?”

  “Chase.”

  “The drug addict?”

  “He also plays a mean game of Scrabble. Beat me twice today.” He pulled a beer out of the fridge, then offered her one. She accepted it immediately and downed half of it on her first pull.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Carpenter . . .”

  “Were you planning to let her sign another contract with another family?”

  “Yes. I mean, this was an unusual circumstance. I shouldn’t have let her sign the first one with you, not with your romantic history . . . we’re a small company. A family company. I can’t have people going around accusing us of misconduct.”

  “I understand. But there’s no chance of misconduct with my brother; I’d kill him if he tried to kiss the woman I love.”

  Cindy’s gaze softened. “What about your dad?”

  “What about him?”

  “I think he left; I saw him with a suitcase earlier, but...”

  “He’s the one who sent the evidence?”

  She nodded. “Pictures. Sexy ones, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “Oh, I don’t.” He smiled. “You see, those pictures were actually a video, and if I showed it to you, you’d see that I kissed Martina first. So really, I’m the one who violated the contract. She should be suing me for sexual harassment. Thankfully, we’re in love, so I don’t see that happening. Willow and I will sign anything you want, releasing you from all legal responsibility. I can have our family lawyer draw up an agreement tonight.”

  Cindy sighed deeply, then let her elbows rest on the quartz counters. “This was not covered in my business classes.”

  “I imagine not,” he said dryly, taking another sip of his beer. “But I promise you, the last thing I want is to screw you or Martina over. I just want good care for my mother, and I just want Martina to be my girlfriend. But she’s less likely to agree to that if I can’t get her job back, so . . .” He leaned forward onto his elbows, too. “Will you help me be her knight in shining armor? Please?”

  She gave him a hard look. “She’ll be on probation for six months.”

  “Fine.”

  “And if this happens again, she’s absolutely done.”

  “Mrs. Hewes, I don’t plan to give her any reason to stop seeing me. There shouldn’t be an opportunity for it to happen again.” He held out his right hand, and begrudgingly, Cindy shook it.

  “You’re really an actuary? Not a lawyer?”

  He laughed. “Really.”

  “You missed your calling, young man . . .”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  IT WAS CHRISTMAS NIGHT, and she’d spent the day with her family avoiding Augustina and George and checking her phone for messages from Carter. She’d made herself a cup of tea, forgoing dinner, and around nine, she’d gotten a cryptic text, asking if he could come over. Since she was now fired, she couldn’t see any harm in it.

  “It worked.” Carter pushed into her apartment and shook his wet hair, leaving Martina sprayed and confused.

  “What worked?”

  “Here’s your new contract with Chase Carpenter for Willow’s care.” He slapped the stack of papers down on the kitchen counter. “Just needs your signature.” Carter took her face in his hands and began devouring her, lavishing her with hungry kisses. “Love your Christmas tree, by the way,” he breathed as he moved lower to suck on her neck. Her head was spinning; guilt stabbed at her.

  “I didn’t ask you to do that . . .”

  He straightened, searching her face. “Is this not what you wanted?”

  “No, it is! It is. I just feel bad that you had to clean up my mess.”

  “It was my mess, too. It was my fault you got fired. And it’s not like you could ask Chase to hire you.” He went back to kissing her. Martina’s head was still troubled, though. These few days had done nothing to help her muddle through the mess in her heart, either. Because Carter had asked her to trust him. She wanted to; she wanted to be together. But she needed assurances. A guarantee that it wasn’t going to end the same way, that they weren’t going to end up right back where they started.

  “Let’s go to Vegas,” she whispered. “Tonight.”

  Carter slowed his kisses. “Why?”

  “To get married, silly.”

  He scowled. “You’re still scared?”

  “N-no,” she protested. “I’m not scared.”

  “What are you scared of?” He pulled her over to the couch and settled her on his lap. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m not scared!” She crossed her arms, putting a tiny amount of distance between. Just the right amount, in her mind.

  “Then why are you trying to rush things?”

  “Dude, I’m not the one who came blasting in here, pushed a new contract into my hands and tried to swallow my neck whole.”

  Carter chuckled. “I’m sorry if I came on strong.” He kissed her again, lightly this time. “I just missed the heck out of you. But I want to actually date this time. Like, talk about hopes and dreams this time, now that we’re in control of our own lives. Take time to get to know each other.”

  “And having waited nine years for this, I want to
stop wasting time and go to Vegas.” She pressed gentle kisses along his jaw. “You can get to know me later. The rest of our lives.”

  “Getting to know each other is not a waste of time, Tini.”

  “Well, I guess we’re at an impasse then,” she said, standing up. The bereft look on his face was almost comical.

  “But we’re still together, right?”

  “Of course!” She smiled down at him as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking it out.

  “Tangentially, what are you wearing?”

  Martina looked down. “My pajamas?” They were the new set she’d bought herself for Christmas morning; she liked to look extra cute in the inevitable pictures, and these pink unicorn pj’s were just the thing.

  “Those are adorable.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Just like you.” He leaned forward and caught her hand. “Want to watch Home Alone and make out?”

  “Yes, please,” she grinned, sitting on him so hard he grunted. He didn’t seem to mind as much when her lips met his again, and they spent some time breaking in her couch.

  After a while, Martina wanted ice cream, so they took a moment to catch their breath.