The Troublemaker
Page 15
As we sit at his table, burning our fingertips and tongues on molten cheese, I feel happier than I have in ages. Even if our plan fails, and I can’t get Jordan off my case without going to court, I have so many things to look forward to. I have days, weeks, months of getting to know this man, uncovering his mysteries, relishing his company, discovering his secrets… Finishing the job of falling in love with him because what else can I do?
Even if it’s crazy, he makes me believe the fall is real.
Real, and completely worth the risk.
Chapter 22
From the texts of Carrie Haverford
and Emma Haverford Hunter
* * *
Carrie: Hey, Em… You awake?
* * *
Emma: Yes. Battling the books for this quarter.
So far, they’re winning.
* * *
Carrie: Ugh. Numbers. How awful for you. I’m sorry.
* * *
Emma: Thank you. I know you understand my pain.
It would have been nice if someone in our family had a solid math gene to toss into the mix somewhere. It’s nice that everyone’s good at communicating and has an ear for languages, but numbers are a distressingly large part of everyday life.
* * *
Carrie: They are. And I’m sorry I can’t help you with them.
The best I can do is leave you in peace and wait to pester you later.
* * *
Emma: No! No! Pester me now! Please, anything to give me an excuse to go eat ice cream while Dylan’s sleeping.
* * *
Carrie: Is he trying to come between you and your ice cream?
If so, I can arrange to rough him up when I get home tomorrow.
* * *
Emma: No, he’s trying to help me stay away from sugar a couple nights a week the way I promised my OB I would, but that’s neither here nor there. Where are you?! Why aren’t you coming home until tomorrow? Are you with the guy Mom saw you with tonight?
* * *
Carrie: WHAT? What did she say?
* * *
Emma: Not much, just that you were out with a guy and you looked really happy, so she didn’t want to interrupt you to say hello. She was weirdly close-lipped about it all.
* * *
Carrie: That is weird…
And kind of nice…
* * *
Emma: Yeah, she seemed to approve. Is this guy a lawyer who drives a Bentley? You know that’s Mom’s dream son-in-law.
* * *
Carrie: No, he’s nothing like that. But he’s one of the good ones. No doubt.
* * *
Emma: So you’ve been seeing him for a while, huh?
And lying to your pregnant sister about it?
* * *
Carrie: I didn’t lie.
I just…fudged the truth.
* * *
Emma: Ooo, fudge. That sounds good, too.
I think I have everything I need to make peppermint fudge in the pantry.
Tell me all your dirty fudging secrets while I go check.
* * *
Carrie: I don’t have any secrets, at least not any I can talk about right now.
But I do have a couple of questions…
About relationships…
* * *
Emma: YOU JUST USED THE R WORD! I can’t believe it!
Omg, are you getting serious with this person?
* * *
Carrie: I think I am. I think we are.
He wants to give the couple thing a try, too.
* * *
Emma: That’s wonderful!
Assuming he’s not an asshole. He’s not an asshole, is he?
I mean, not that we can ever really know at the beginning, when everything is hearts and flowers, but you’re not getting any icky vibes, right?
* * *
Carrie: No, I’m not getting icky vibes. And I think we know more in the beginning than we let on. At least, I usually do. Looking back, I always knew Jordan was a bad bet. I should never have taken him on as a mentee, let alone a boyfriend. He was way too focused on himself to ever get to know me.
* * *
Emma: But that was part of why you chose him, right? Because you knew he would never be anything more than the man of the moment?
* * *
Carrie: Yes, wise one. Of course, that’s why.
That’s why I started shacking up with this new guy, too, because I didn’t think he was the type who would ever become anything more. But now he has. He’s actually an amazing person with a big heart. He’s just been afraid to use it.
* * *
Emma: Sounds familiar, huh?
* * *
Carrie: It does…
Which leads me to one of my questions…
Do you think people who have so much in common—especially issues and fears and broken places in common—can make love work?
* * *
Emma: Oh my…
I’m tearing up a little, Carrie. I honestly am.
First the R word and now the L word.
I didn’t think I would ever see the day.
* * *
Carrie: Yeah, well… Like I said, he’s special.
* * *
Emma: I’m so happy!!!
You deserve special, especially after all this crap with Jordan.
I hate him, by the way. Fresh hate rises inside me every time a Google alert pops up in my inbox about this ridiculous scandal. I can’t believe the balls on this guy, the huge, nasty, hairy, entitled, delusional balls.
* * *
Carrie: I’m actually working on a plan to crush those balls, but let’s get back to that in a second. You have to answer my question first!
What do you think?
Is it possible to make it work with someone who’s glitching in the same places you’re glitching?
* * *
Emma: Well, we’re not computer programs, love, so neither of you is glitching. You’re dealing with pain and the consequences of being human. And the fact that you’ve both struggled with some of the same issues could be something that draws you closer together. Being understood is a powerful thing.
* * *
Carrie: It is. You’re totally right.
So…why am I still afraid?
* * *
Emma: Because giving up control and letting yourself fall for someone is scary as hell. Because there’s no safety net. Because there’s a very real chance that you’ll crash and burn and that the pain of losing someone you love will make the pain of being betrayed by a guy you used to bang seem silly and small in comparison?
* * *
Carrie: Yup. That’s exactly it.
Shit.
Thanks for reminding me, you sadist.
* * *
Emma: You didn’t need reminding, but you do have to face the Risk Monster. You have to face it, tell it that you see it there, snarling and growling and threatening to rip your guts out, but that you’re going into the relationship cave anyway. That you’ve consciously made the choice to walk out on the love tightrope. By acknowledging the fear, you hold it at arm’s length, where it can’t get under your skin and make you do crazy things like look down.
* * *
Carrie: So many metaphors in there…
* * *
Emma: Yeah, well, I’m a winemaker, not a writer.
* * *
Carrie: No seriously. I’m confused.
Am I in a cave or on a tightrope?
* * *
Emma: It doesn’t matter! You know what I mean. And I know you’ve got what it takes to fight all the monsters, spelunk all the caves, and get across that tightrope and safely to where you want to go.
And if this guy is as great as you say he is, then he’ll be right there by your side.
Or maybe in front or behind, in the case of the tightrope.
That’s not really a side-by-side situation.
* * *
Carrie: True that.
<
br /> * * *
Emma: So when do I get to meet Mr. Special?
* * *
Carrie: Um…soon. I think.
As long as you promise not to freak out.
* * *
Emma: Why would I freak out?
* * *
Carrie: No reason…
* * *
Emma: Are you fudging again?
* * *
Carrie: No, I’m withholding. And now I’m changing the subject.
Do you still have that black sundress with the V-neck in front, the one that shows cleavage but not too much cleavage?
And would you mind if I borrowed it for the shelter event?
* * *
Emma: I do and of course you can borrow it. I’m not wearing anything that shows my boobs at the moment. I’m trying to wean Mercy before I get any further along in this pregnancy and that’s easier if she can’t see the givers of the goods.
* * *
Carrie: She’s still not psyched about formula, huh?
* * *
Emma: No, she’s not. And I would keep nursing her, but my doctor said it could put this pregnancy at risk since I’m of advanced maternal age, yada yada, so…
We’re doing what we have to do.
Speaking of, what’s your plan to crush Jordan’s balls?
You have to tell me that, if you’re not going to dish the dirt on new guy and why I’m going to freak out when I meet him.
* * *
Carrie: I’m going to get Jordan on tape confessing his evil. Even if it won’t hold up in court, it will hold up in the court of public opinion, which is at least half the battle.
* * *
Emma: So are you going to call him?
Try to get him talking while you record the conversation?
* * *
Carrie: No, I invited him to be my date for the event tomorrow night.
* * *
Emma: WHAT?!
* * *
Carrie: He’s driving up from San Francisco. We’re going to go wine tasting at a few places, then hit the event, where I will ply him with more booze. He’s never been able to handle his liquor, so… *fingers crossed*
* * *
Emma: But how did you get him to agree to come? And is this safe? He’s clearly a horrible person, Carrie. What if he realizes what you’re up to and gets violent?
* * *
Carrie: Jordan isn’t a physical kind of guy. He’s a lying, scheming weasel. And he thinks he’s coming up here to get me to sign paperwork giving him royalty share rights for the novel I wrote while we were together. He’ll be on his best behavior until I sign on the dotted line.
* * *
Emma: Which you’re NEVER going to do, right?
* * *
Carrie: Hell, no. I’m going to get his confession on tape and tell him to go eat about a pound of dog shit and die.
* * *
Emma: That would be a fitting end for him.
* * *
Carrie: Indeed.
* * *
Emma: All right, well, be careful, okay? And let me know if you want me there for backup. Dylan and I have a dinner scheduled with some of his brewery connections, but I can send him off alone if I have to.
* * *
Carrie: Thanks, but there’s no need. I’m going to have backup.
* * *
Emma: Mr. Special?
* * *
Carrie: Maybe…
* * *
Emma: Good for him. I like him already.
Fingers crossed for you, babes, and wishing you good luck.
From the texts of Carrie and
Renee Haverford
* * *
Carrie: Hey, Renee. Thanks for keeping the thing with Rafe and me quiet.
We wanted to wait to tell Emma and the rest of the family.
So yeah…
I appreciate your discretion.
* * *
Renee: Of course. It’s your business, Caroline.
I’m just glad you’ve found someone who makes you smile like that.
I’ve missed that smile.
* * *
Carrie: Thanks, Mom. That means a lot to me.
* * *
Renee: And you mean a lot to me. I hope you know that. Emma and I had a talk yesterday. About the past and the three of us…
And well, I’m sorry if I’ve harped more than I’ve praised. I just worry, and when I worry, I nag, but I’m going to try to do better. I really am. Kip is helping me get into daily meditation. It’s helping me keep anxiety at arm’s length and focus on the things that really matter
* * *
Carrie: Kip, huh? Was that the smoking old hippie you were with at the steakhouse?
* * *
Renee: Yes. He is smoking, isn’t he?
And so wise. And he makes me laugh!
* * *
Carrie: Sounds like a good combo. I hope it works out.
* * *
Renee: You, too. As long as Rafe keeps you smiling like that, I’m on board.
And it would be so cute for the kids.
They’d be double first cousins!
* * *
Carrie: LOL! Jesus, mom, slow down. Rafe and I just started dating exclusively. We’re a long way from giving you grandchildren.
* * *
Renee: That’s what Emma thought a year ago and now look at her.
But no rush. Just breathe, relax, and live the moment.
It’s all we’ve got, right?
* * *
Carrie: Yes, alien pod-person who has taken over my stressed-out mother’s body, it is all we’ve got. But thanks for the reminder. Talk to you soon.
* * *
Renee: Maybe we can grab lunch with Mercy sometime next week.
* * *
Carrie: Sounds good. Thanks again, Mom.
* * *
Renee: I love you, Caroline. No thanks needed.
* * *
Carrie: Love you, too.
Chapter 23
Carrie
It’s starting to feel like luck is on my side. Like the winds are shifting and good fortune is filling my sails.
But though good luck is always appreciated, it’s not something you can count on.
An ounce of preparation is worth a bucket of luck, so I’m determined to do everything possible to ensure Operation Douchebag Dupe goes off without a hitch.
I spend Friday morning dashing back to Emma’s to grab my toiletries and the dress she promised I could borrow—stopping by to hug my mom, who is still in an amazing new headspace, and Mercy, who is still adorable, on my way back to the car—then hitting the drugstore for beautifying supplies, the salon for a re-purpling, and the big box store off the highway, where they’re running a special on tiny surveillance cameras.
I’m troubled that surveillance cameras are a purchase common enough to be thrown in an average shopper’s cart along with bulk toilet paper and a bargain rotisserie chicken, but I don’t have time to ponder this sad comment on humanity.