“I’m here.”
He said it without the least hesitation, and his unquestioning loyalty made her weep all the louder. “Oh, Charlie, I’ve got to find a new place to live and I need to do it today.”
“My sister’s got a friend looking for a roommate. Do you want me to call her?”
“Please.” Straightening, she wiped the tears from her face. Charlie might have had his faults, but he’d recognized the panic in her voice and immediately assumed control. Just now, that was what she needed—a friend to temporarily take charge of things. “How soon can you talk to her?”
“Now. I’ll call her and get right back to you. On second thought, I’ll come directly to your place. If you can’t move in with Patty’s friend, my parents will put you up.”
“Oh, Charlie, how can I ever thank you?”
The sound of his chuckle was like a clean, fresh breeze. “I’ll come up with a way later.” His voice softened. “You know how I feel about you, Ellen. If you only want me for a friend, I understand. But I’m determined to be a good friend.”
The back door closed with a bang. “Anyone home?”
Guiltily, Ellen turned around, coming face to face with Monte. She replaced the receiver, took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She’d hoped to get away without having to talk to anyone.
“Ellen?” Concern clouded his face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying.” He narrowed his eyes. “You have been crying. What happened?”
“Nothing.” She took a minute to wipe her eyes with a tissue. “Listen, I’ll be up in my room, but I’d appreciate some time alone, so don’t get me unless it’s important.”
“Sure. Anything you say. Are you sick? Should I call Reed?”
“No!” she almost shouted at him, then instantly regretted reacting so harshly. “Please don’t contact him. … He’s busy tonight anyway.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “And listen, about dinner—”
“Hey, don’t worry. I can cook.”
“You?” This wasn’t the time to get into an argument. How messy he made the kitchen was no longer her problem. “There’s a recipe on the counter if you want to tackle spaghetti sauce.”
“Sure. I can do that. How long am I supposed to boil the noodles?”
One of her lesser concerns at the moment was boiling noodles. “Just read the back of the package.”
Already he was rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll take care of everything. You go lie down and do whatever women do when they’re crying and pretending they’re not.”
“Thanks,” she returned evenly. “I’ll do that.” Only in this case, she wasn’t going to lie on her bed, hiding her face in her pillow. She was going to pack up everything she owned and cart it away before Reed even had a hint that she was leaving.
Sniffling as she worked, Ellen dumped the contents of her drawers into open suitcases. A couple of times she stopped to blow her nose. She detested tears. At the age of fifteen, she’d broken her leg and gritted her teeth against the agony. But she hadn’t shed a tear. Now she wept as though it were the end of the world. Why, oh why, did her emotions have to be so unpredictable?
Carrying her suitcases down the first flight of stairs, she paused on the boys’ floor to shift the weight. Because she was concentrating on her task and not watching where she was going, she walked headlong into Derek. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Ellen.” He glanced at her suitcases and said her name as though he’d unexpectedly stumbled into the Queen of Sheba. “What … what are you doing?”
“Moving.”
“Moving? But … why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You’re crying.” He sounded even more shocked by her tears than by the fact that she was moving out of the house.
“It’s Reed, isn’t it? What did he do?”
“He didn’t do a thing. Stay out of it, Derek. I mean that.”
He looked stunned. “Sure.” He stepped aside and stuck his hand in his pocket. “Anything you say.”
She made a second trip downstairs, this time bringing a couple of tote bags and the clothes from her closet, which she draped over the top of the two suitcases. There wasn’t room in her luggage for everything. She realized she’d have to put the rest of her belongings in boxes.
Assuming she’d find a few empty boxes in the garage, she stormed through the kitchen and out the back door. Muttering between themselves, Monte and Derek followed her. Soon her movements resembled a small parade.
“Will you two stop it,” she shouted, whirling around and confronting them. The tears had dried now and her face burned with the heat of anger and regret.
“We just want to know what happened,” Monte interjected.
“Or is this going to be another one of your ‘stay tuned’ responses?” Derek asked.
“I’m moving out. I don’t think I can make it any plainer than that.”
“Why?”
“That’s none of your business.” She left them standing with mouths open as she trooped up the back stairs to her rooms.
Heedlessly she tossed her things into the two boxes, more intent on escaping than on taking care to ensure that nothing was broken. When she got to the vase that had held the roses Reed had sent her, Ellen picked it up and hugged it. She managed to forestall further tears by taking deep breaths and blinking rapidly. Setting the vase down, she decided not to bring it with her. As much as possible, she wanted to leave Reed in this house and not carry the memories of him around with her like a constant, throbbing ache. That would be hard enough without taking the vase along as a constant reminder of what she’d once felt.
The scene that met her at the foot of the stairs made her stop in her tracks. The three boys were involved in a shouting match, each blaming the others for Ellen’s unexpected decision to move out.
“It’s your fault,” Derek accused Monte. “If you weren’t so concerned about your stomach, she’d stay.”
“My stomach? You’re the one who’s always asking her for favors. Like babysitting and cooking for you and your girlfriend and—”
“If you want my opinion …” Pat began.
“We don’t,” Monte and Derek shouted.
“Stop it! All of you,” Ellen cried. “Now, if you’re the least bit interested in helping me, you can take my things outside. Charlie will be here anytime.”
“Charlie?” the three echoed in shock.
“Are you moving in with him?”
She didn’t bother to respond. Once the suitcases, the bags, two boxes and her clothes had been lugged onto the porch, Ellen sat on the top step and waited.
She could hear the boys pacing back and forth behind her, still bickering quietly. When the black sports car squealed around the corner, Ellen covered her face with both hands and groaned. The last person she wanted to see now was Reed. Her throat was already swollen with the effort of not giving way to tears.
He parked in front of the house and threw open the car door.
She straightened, determined to appear cool and calm.
Seconds later, Reed stood on the bottom step. “What’s going on here?”
“Hello, Reed,” she said with a breathlessness she couldn’t control. “How was your day?”
He jerked his fingers through his hair as he stared back at her in utter confusion. “How am I supposed to know? I get a frantic phone call from Derek telling me to come home right away. As I’m running out the door, my assistant hands me a message. Some absurd thing about you saying goodbye. What is going on? I thought you’d hurt yourself!”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Ellen, I don’t know what’s happening in that overworked mind of yours, but I want some answers and I want them now.”
“I’m leaving.” Her hands were clenched so tight that her fingers ached.
“I’m not blind,” he shouted, quickly losing control of his obviously limited patience. “I can see that. I’m asking you why.”
Pride demanded t
hat she raise her chin and meet his probing gaze. “I’ve decided I’m an unstable person,” she told him, her voice low and quavering. “I broke my leg once and didn’t shed a tear, but when I learn that you’re going to a party tonight, I start to cry.”
“Ellen.” He said her name gently, then shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I know. That’s the worst part.”
“In the simplest terms possible, tell me why you’re leaving.”
“I’m trying to.” Furious with herself, she wiped a tear from her cheek. How could she explain it to him when everything was still so muddled in her own mind?
“I’m leaving because you’re driving the Porsche.”
“What!” he exploded.
“You tell me,” she burst out. “Why did you drive the Porsche today?”
“Would you believe that my truck was low on fuel?”
“I may be confused,” she said, “but I’m not stupid. You’re going out with Danielle. Not that I care.”
“I can tell.” His mocking gaze lingered on her suitcases. “I hate to disillusion you, but Danielle won’t be with me.”
She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “It doesn’t matter.”
“None of this is making sense.”
“I don’t imagine it would. I apologize for acting so unreasonable, but that’s exactly how I feel. So, I’m getting out of here with my pride intact.”
“Is your pride worth so much?”
“It’s the only thing I have left,” she said. She’d already given him her heart.
“She’s moving in with Charlie,” Derek said in a worried voice. “You aren’t going to let her, are you, Reed?”
“You can’t,” Monte added.
“He won’t,” Pat stated confidently.
For a moment, the three of them stared intently at Reed. Ellen noticed the way his green eyes hardened. “Yes, I can,” he said at last. “If this is what you want, then so be it. Goodbye, Ellen.” With that, he marched into the house.
CHAPTER TEN
“I’m swearing off men for good,” Ellen vowed, taking another long swallow of wine.
“Me, too,” Darlene, her new roommate, echoed. To toast the promise, Darlene bent forward to touch the rim of her wineglass against Ellen’s and missed. A shocked moment passed before they broke into hysterical laughter.
“Here.” Ellen replenished their half-full glasses as tears of mirth rolled down her face. The world seemed to spin off its axis for a moment as she straightened. “You know what? I think we’re drunk.”
“Maybe you are,” Darlene declared, slurring her words, “but not me. I can hold my wine as well as any man.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about men anymore.”
“Right, I forgot.”
“Do you think they’re talking about us?” Ellen asked, putting a hand to her head in an effort to keep the walls from going around and around.
“Nah, we’re just a fading memory.”
“Right.” Ellen pointed her index finger toward the ceiling in emphatic agreement.
The doorbell chimed and both women stared accusingly at the door. “If it’s a man, don’t answer it,” Darlene said.
“Right again.” Ellen staggered across the beige carpet. The floor seemed to pitch under her feet and she placed a hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself. Facing the door, she turned around. “How do I know if it’s a man or not?”
The doorbell sounded again.
Darlene motioned languidly with her hand to show that she no longer cared who was at the door. “Just open it.”
Holding the knob in a death grip, Ellen pulled open the door and found herself glaring at solid male chest. “It’s a man,” she announced to Darlene.
“Who?”
Squinting, Ellen studied the blurred male figure until she recognized Monte. “Monte,” she cried, instantly sobering. “What are you doing here?”
“I … I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“Come in.” She stepped aside to let him enter. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” She hiccuped despite her frenzied effort to look and act sober. “It’s a school night. You shouldn’t be out this late.”
“It’s only ten-thirty. You’ve been drinking.”
“Me?” She slammed her hand against her chest. “Have we been drinking, Darlene?”
Her roommate grabbed the wine bottle—their second—from the table and hid it behind her back. “Not us.”
Monte cast them a look of disbelief. “How’d your exams go?” he asked Ellen politely.
“Fine,” she answered and hiccuped again. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I think.”
“What about algebra?”
“I’m making it by the skin of my nose.”
“Teeth,” both Darlene and Monte corrected.
“Right.”
Looking uncomfortable, Monte said, “Maybe I should come back another time.”
“Okay.” Ellen wasn’t about to argue. If she was going to run into her former housemates, she’d prefer to do it when she looked and felt her best. Definitely not when she was feeling … tipsy and the walls kept spinning. But on second thought, she couldn’t resist asking about the others. “How’s … everyone?”
“Fine.” But he lowered his gaze to the carpet. “Not really, if you want the truth.”
A shaft of fear went through her, tempering the effects of several glasses of wine. “It’s not Reed, is it? Is he ill?”
“No, Reed’s fine. I guess. He hasn’t been around much lately.”
No doubt he was spending a lot of his time at parties and social events with Danielle. Or with any number of other women, all of them far more sophisticated than Ellen.
“Things haven’t been the same since you left,” Monte added sheepishly.
“Who’s doing the cooking?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been taking turns.”
“That sounds fair.” She hoped that in the months she’d lived with them the three boys had at least learned their way around the kitchen.
“Derek started a fire yesterday.”
Ellen couldn’t conceal her dismay. “Was there any damage?” As much as she tried to persuade herself that she didn’t need to feel guilty over leaving the boys, this news was her undoing. “Was anyone hurt?” she gasped out.
“Not really, and Reed said the insurance would take care of everything.”
“What happened?” Ellen was almost afraid to ask.
“Nothing much. Derek forgot to turn off the burner and the fat caught fire. Then he tried to beat it out with a dish towel, but that burst into flames, too. The real mistake was throwing the burning towel into the sink because when he did, it set the curtains on fire.”
“Oh, good grief.” Ellen dropped her head into her hands.
“It’s not too bad, though. Reed said he wanted new kitchen walls, anyway.”
“The walls too?”
“Well, the curtains started burning the wallpaper.”
Ellen wished she hadn’t asked. “Was anyone hurt?”
Monte moved a bandaged hand from behind his back. “Just me, but only a little.”
“Oh, Monte,” she cried, fighting back her guilt. “What did you do—try and pound out the fire with your fist?” Leave it to Monte. He’d probably tried to rescue whatever it was Derek had been cooking.
“No, I grabbed a hot biscuit from the oven and blistered one finger.”
“Then why did you wrap up your whole hand?” From the size of the bandage, it looked as though he’d been lucky not to lose his arm.
“I thought you might feel sorry for me and come back.”
“Oh, Monte.” She reached up to brush the hair from his temple.
“I didn’t realize what a good cook you were until you left. I kept thinking maybe it was something I’d done that caused you to leave.”
“Of course not.”
“Then you’ll come back and make dinners again?”
Good ol’ Monte never forgot about his stomach. “The four of you will do fine without me.”
“You mean you won’t come back?”
“I can’t.” She felt like crying, but she struggled to hold back the tears stinging her eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t.”
Hanging his head, Monte nodded. “Well, have a merry Christmas anyway.”
“Right. You, too.”
“Bye, Ellen.” He turned back to the door, his large hand gripping the knob. “You know about Pat making varsity, don’t you?”
She’d read it in the Daily. “I’m really proud of him. You tell him for me. Okay?”
“Sure.”
She closed the door after him and leaned against it while the regrets washed over her like a torrent of rain. Holding back her tears was difficult, but somehow she managed. She’d shed enough tears. It was time to put her grief behind her and to start facing life again.
“I take it Monte is one of the guys,” Darlene remarked. She set the wine back on the table, but neither seemed interested in another glass.
Ellen nodded. “The one with the stomach.”
“He’s so skinny!”
“I know. There’s no justice in this world.” But she wasn’t talking about Monte’s appetite in relation to his weight. She was talking about Reed. If she’d had any hope that he really did care for her, that had vanished in the past week. He hadn’t even tried to get in touch with her. She knew he wouldn’t have had any problem locating her. The obvious conclusion was that he didn’t want to see her. At first she thought he might have believed the boys’ ridiculous claim that she was moving in with Charlie. But if he’d loved her half as much as she loved him, even that shouldn’t have stopped him from coming after her.
Apparently, presuming that Reed cared for her was a mistake on her part. She hadn’t heard a word from him all week. Exam week, at that. Well, fine. She’d wipe him out of her memory—just as effectively as she’d forgotten every algebraic formula she’d ever learned. A giggle escaped and Darlene sent her a curious look. Ellen carried their wineglasses to the sink, ignoring her new roommate, as she considered her dilemma. The trouble was, she wanted to remember the algebra, which seemed to slip out of her mind as soon as it entered, and she wanted to forget Reed, who never left her thoughts for an instant.
Love by Degree Page 14
