by Joy Jenkins
"Carter," Donovan said again.
She cracked her eyes open, staring up into Donovan’s face. Panic spiked through her at the sight of him bent over her. She jerked away, heart stuttering in her chest. Donovan held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Hey, you're fine. You just fell asleep on my couch."
Whipping her head around, Carter tried to get her bearings. The apartment was washed in yellow lamplight. The smell of Chinese food lingered in the air. Everything righted itself and she remembered where she was.
"Right," Carter said, burying her face in her heads, willing her heart rate to return to normal. "Sorry about that. I don’t usually fall asleep in other people’s apartments.”
"It's fine," Donovan said, perching on the edge of his coffee table.
Taking in a deep breath, Carter dropped her hands. Donovan sat with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. As he read her weariness, she broke from his gaze, feeling too much weight in his scrutiny of her.
"I woke you because your father called twice and texted three times."
He held out her phone.
"It's still a school night. Come home," the message said.
Checking the time, Carter realized it was a little past eleven. She stood up abruptly. "I didn't realize I slept so long.”
Donovan didn’t speak as Carter quickly collected her bag and put away her untouched homework. As she sent off a text to her father, Donovan fetched his keys. Pulling the door open for her, he followed her out. She halted as he locked his apartment.
"I'm fine," she said. "I'll take the metro home."
Their gazes battled each other and Donovan's won out.
"Thanks," she said.
Donovan nodded beside her.
"Where's Link?" she asked, as they rode down in the elevator.
"Monica finished after we had dinner and he went back to his place."
"What have you been doing the last few hours?"
"I was working in my room. I only came out when I heard your phone going off for the second time."
Carter ran a hand through her hair and realized the mess it was in. "I didn't even hear it.” Absentmindedly, she dragged her fingers through the tangled strands, bringing it back to a semblance of order. Donovan gazed at her as she shook it out. When she looked over, he coolly turned away, not at all fazed that she had caught him watching her.
In silence, they got into his car and drove but the silence didn't feel weighted. There was a comfortability about it. Donovan edged the car down the narrow lane, stopping outside Carter's apartment. She reached for her door but paused as he spoke.
"Remember, it might have nothing to do with you, Carter," he said.
She locked eyes with him. "Thank you, for everything.” She chuckled softly. “And for the use of your couch."
Donovan smiled gently. ”Goodnight, Carter."
"Night, Donovan."
As Carter climbed the stairs, the car disappeared. When she stepped inside the apartment, Carter found her father sitting at the dining table. Though this scene felt like a hundred others they had shared, something about it wasn’t the same. Nudging the door shut with her foot, Carter tried to read any of her father’s thoughts in his calm face.
"Where were you?" he asked.
"With Link and Donovan,” she said, sitting down. “Doing homework."
He nodded, his expression completely closed. “Let me know next time if you won't be home by eleven.”
It was Carter’s turn to nod. "Alright. I will."
Silence descended between them but it was a different silence than the one she’d shared with Donovan. This silence was layered with things unsaid. Her father stood, breaking the quiet with the scraping of his chair along the tile floor.
"There is some dinner left in the fridge if you're hungry," he said.
"Thanks." The words felt as hollow as her stomach.
"I'm going to turn in for the night,” her father said. “It was a long day."
Carter responded with another nod. As she studied her father, she tried to see some of the things Donovan talked about but could read nothing.
"Captain," she said. He paused. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just tired.” She sank back in her chair, trying to ignore the ring of a lie. "I love you, Captain."
Her father worked for a smile but barely managed. "I love you too, Sarge."
He left her and closed his door. Carter hugged her leg, wishing she’d imagined the tone of regret.
Chapter 42
Carter rolled over in bed and checked the time, wincing at the light from her phone. It was a little past six and the sun was just cresting the horizon. Carter waited. Waited to hear the telltale signs of her father waking up and preparing for their usual Saturday run.
When she heard nothing, Carter tossed aside her covers and climbed out of bed. Changed into her workout clothes, she crossed the hall to her father’s room, tying her hair back as she went. She knocked gently before opening the door. Her father sat on the edge of his bed, his back to her, his hands pressed into the mattress.
"Come on old man, it’s Saturday. We have a run ahead of us," Carter said.
Her father studied the floor. "I'm going to skip the run today.”
Carter waited for her nickname but he never said it. Cautiously, she took a step into the room. "What's wrong, Captain? You no longer have your sling, let's celebrate with a run."
He didn't stand up but he straightened and looked at her. For a breath, it seemed he would say the thing that had been building a wall between them all week. "Not today, Sarge." He stood. "You'll have to go without me."
As he walked past her, Carter felt like reaching for him and demanding to know what was going on. But she didn't move. He left, leaving Carter in a storm of questions. Feeling trapped by her thoughts, Carter bolted from the apartment.
The metal staircase was slick with cold morning fog. She clambered down the stairs and started running the minute she hit the pavement. All around her apartments lay quiet, their occupants still tucked into beds and in dreams. Carter was alone.
As Carter hit the main road, she ran faster, wanting to outrun all the unknowns that lived in the apartment. Mist hit her face and got stuck in her hair. Car lights flashed by, as their tires ran through puddles. As she ran, she focused on the even rhythm of her breathing. The steady beat of her shoes on the pavement. The thump of her necklace as it bounced off her chest.
The world shifted around her. Faint sunlight began to burn away the mist. More cars took to the street. Apartment buildings shifted to storefronts. Then Georgetown itself drifted away as she moved towards the center of D.C.
Sweat gathered on Carter’s forehead as she headed towards the Lincoln Memorial. The Mall was mostly empty, the only people there were joggers and cyclists. It wasn't until she lapped the Reflecting Pool she became fully aware of her surroundings. Aware of the fact that it was the same route she always took with her father.
Her body was reaching the peak of its energy as she rounded the narrow pool. She came face to face with the empty Lincoln Memorial steps, topped by the towering columned building. She sprinted. She raced down the stretch of water, beating away the fatigue she could feel coming on. She pelted towards two men running, giving them a short, 'on your left' signal before bolting past them. Reaching the stairs, she charged up them, two at a time. She pushed away the weariness in her muscles, relishing in the one thing she could control.
At the top, she turned and headed back down, her steps light and quick. She focused on the white, clean steps, keeping her balance. At the bottom, she ran half the length of the pool before settling into a slow jog, aching. She rounded the end of the Reflecting Pool when she heard something that made her stop.
"Carter?"
She halted, seeing Donovan and a man that could only be his brother. At the sight of Donovan, she felt her tornado of thoughts quiet down. Taking deep, even breaths, she put her hands on her hips and walked to meet them, her heart still banging awa
y inside her chest.
As they closed the distance, she saw Donovan's expression was impassive, though his brother wore an intrigued smile. James stood a few inches taller than Donovan, his build wider and more muscular. Where Donovan came off serious, James came off friendly. The brothers breathed evenly; Carter figured that they had only just started their run.
"You must be James," Carter said, holding out her hand.
James shook it, impressed with the strength behind the slender fingers. "I am," he said, his voice deeper than Donovan's. "You're Carter?"
"Carter Owens, I go to school with Donovan."
She pointed to Donovan, who stood with his arms crossed and his face inscrutable. Something about the tension in his body told her this interaction wasn’t something he wanted, which threw her since he’d called her name.
"It's nice to meet you,” James said, placing his hands behind his back out of habit. He smiled, softening the power of his stance. “It’s a pleasure knowing anyone Donovan goes to school with. We don't hear a lot about his day to day life, so it's good to know he is making..."
"She knows, Jay," Donovan said.
"Knows what?" James asked.
"About everything. Me. Link.”
James regarded Carter with a new sense of curiosity. "Really?"
Carter gave him a smug smile. Before James could ask questions, Donovan held up his hand, stalling his brother. "It's a long story and I'll explain later."
"Donovan says you work with a security company,” Carter said, diverting the conversation.
"I do,” James said. “Recently promoted. He mention anything else about me?"
"Only that you were in town this weekend."
James glanced back at Donovan, who wore a neutral look, though again Carter sensed his discomfort.
"Well, that's my brother for you,” James said. “He keeps things close to the vest but expects to have everyone tell him everything.” Donovan flexed his jaw but said nothing. “I’m sure you already know this about him.”
"I know a little something about that,” Carter said. “I’m still trying to figure him out."
James laughed. "He gets better the longer you know him. But there are still times I have to beat information out of him."
Carter threw Donovan a teasing smile but when he remained stiff, she offered the smile to James. "Good to know that method works."
Donovan met her gaze but wore the blank mask she’d seen when she’d first known him. Reading his resistance to the conversation but not understanding where it came from, she took a step back. "I'll let you get back to your run.”
"Carter, we're going to breakfast after this,” James said. “You want to come along?”
Carter wanted to say yes. Getting a chance to know more about Donovan, his brother, and his life as well as avoid her apartment for a little longer felt like a gift. But she noticed the tightness in Donovan’s jaw. "Thanks for the offer but I'm going to have to pass. It was a pleasure meeting you, James."
He smiled. “Likewise."
"See you later, Donovan."
"Carter."
The goodbye felt too formal and she took off, adding one more interaction into the list of things she couldn’t make sense of.
◆◆◆
As Carter drew closer to her street, she envisioned ways to talk to her father. But she came to a dead stop outside her apartment building.
Her father's car was gone.
A hundred new questions slammed into her as she stared at the empty spot. It was Saturday. He never had work on Saturday. Why was he gone? Where would he go? A dog howled from a window, breaking her from her daze. A silent apartment was waiting for her. She leaned against the door, sitting in the emptiness. A slip of paper on the coffee table snagged her attention. She quickly snatched it up, reading her father's words.
"I had a meeting to go to. I'll be back before lunch."
Balling the paper in her fist, Carter moved to her room. What meeting? Why didn’t he tell her about it that morning? Why was he keeping things from her? Why wouldn’t he let her in? Question after question dive-bombed her as she showered and dressed and left the apartment. Even in open space, her thoughts ricocheted around her head.
The growling of her stomach brought her back to reality. In the early morning, the deli was empty. The ding of the bell seemed to float through the space. Maggie appeared from the kitchen, carrying a large box.
"Hey, Hon," she said, with a smile, though something dampened the expression.
Placing the box on a table, she set about refilling napkin dispensers. Carter joined her. Maggie glanced at her but quickly averted her gaze. “Steve isn’t with you?"
"No, he had a meeting. I thought I would come have breakfast here."
"Of course, girly, what do you want?"
"Anything."
"Alright, stay here and I'll fix something up for you."
Maggie left before Carter could thank her. As she waited, Carter filled the napkin dispensers, surrounded by empty tables and booths. By the time Maggie returned, Carter had finished. Maggie set down a plate of food before Carter. She noticed the refilled dispensers and smiled, a true smile. "Hon, you didn't have to do that.”
"I figured I could help. Can you sit?"
Maggie looked at the kitchen, reluctant to agree. Carter felt a clamp tighten around her chest. Unable to think of a reason to leave, Maggie sat. "Of course I can," she said. She rested her arms on top. "How is school going?"
As Carter took a bite of her food, she shrugged. "Fine. It seems like the deli has been busy this last week. I haven't seen you."
Something flashed across Maggie's face but she covered it up before Carter could read it. It didn't matter though, Carter caught it. She set down her food. "Is something going on between you and my father that neither of you want to tell me about?"
Maggie widened her eyes with real surprise. "No, Hon. I told you where I stood on that point."
"So you're not sleeping with him?"
Maggie straightened with shock. ”Carter! No!" She flushed with embarrassment.
"But I saw you leaving the apartment the other day?" Carter said, confused.
"Is that what all this is about?” Leaning forward, Maggie rested a hand on Carter's arm. Carter slipped out of her hold, still staring at her. "Hon, your father needed a friend to talk to. That's all. Nothing happened. You understand? Nothing happened."
As Carter picked at her food, she watched Maggie. "Nothing happened?" Maggie nodded. "What did you talk about?"
Maggie cleared her throat, suddenly not as comfortable. "Just some stuff."
Carter frowned. "What are you not telling me? Do you know what's going on with him?"
"Carter, your father is going through a lot of difficult situations with the divorce, his shoulder PT, and adjusting to a different job... He could just need space."
"I know this. Why doesn’t he just talk to me about this? Why is he shutting me out?"
"He's not shutting you out-"
"Yes, he is!" Carter said. "I know Captain and I know when he isn't telling me something. Do you know what he isn't telling me?"
"Carter, it could be...a number of things-"
"Do you know what it is?"
Maggie faltered. "Whether I do or don't, it's your father's business to share with you."
“But he's not telling me."
Maggie gave her a sympathetic smile. "Then he has a reason for it. You have to trust him."
For a moment, Carter studied Maggie, needing the truth but not certain Maggie had it. ”So you don't know what it is?"
Collecting the napkin dispensers, Maggie rose. "Hon, I have to get back to work. Thanks for the help." She pointed to the barely touched plate of food. "Finish up your breakfast."
As Maggie bustled away, Carter stared at her food, her stomach in tight coils. Pushing the plate away, she walked out of the deli. At the sound of the bell, Maggie looked up. A flash of guilt crossed her face.
The world was
awake and fully alive with the voices of families chattering as Carter walked back to the apartment. Her stomach no longer grumbled, a sour feeling had taken the place of hunger. She kicked the front door shut. Her bag lay on the floor, a reminder of the homework she had but she ignored it.
Instead, Carter grabbed her boxing gloves, tucking them under her arm. She hit play on her music and hoped the pulsing sound would cloud her thoughts. As a pounding bass filled her room she wrapped up her hands, pulled on her gloves, and assaulted the punching bag.
Maggie's words still hummed in her ears, the avoidance of her last question loudest of all. Maggie knew. She knew and wasn’t telling Carter. But why? Why wasn’t anyone talking to her? Why were her father and Maggie shutting her out? What had she done wrong? With every unanswered question, she beat the taut leather. The metal creaked, the sound drowned out by the music.
She kept swinging away, battling the things she didn't know. She became more forceful, her speed increasing. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her temples. Every muscle in her hand and arms ached but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
The front door opened and only because she was waiting for it, did she hear it. She kept hitting the bag, listening as her father wandered about the apartment. She waited for her door to open and her father to walk in.
When she heard his bedroom door closing, she stopped. The bag continued to sway. She wrapped one hand round the chain and laid her head on the stiff material as weariness enveloped her. It was a feeling that had nothing to do with the ache in her arms.
Chapter 43
Hands jammed into her pockets, Carter climbed the school stairs. Weariness hovered around her as unanswered questions sat heavily on her shoulders. She pushed through the school doors and entered the fray of voices ricocheting off walls.
When she found Link and Amy huddled together in the hallway, Carter looked across the way, knowing she’d find Donovan there. Despite the strange interaction of Saturday, the sight of him made Carter breathe a little easier. But as she took the open spot beside him, she became aware of the rigidity in his posture that contradicted his passivity.
