∗ ∗ ∗
As Cara read in her room that night, she heard the phone ring. Her mother answered. Cara’s eyes lifted from the page at the sound of her mother’s voice. It almost sounded as if her mother was flirting. Cara shook her head in disbelief. It was difficult to imagine her uptight mother flirting with anyone.
“Cara,” she called out. “Cara, telephone.”
That was surprising. Cara didn’t get phone calls.
Cara’s mother met her at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s that nice Rick Shea,” she whispered in Cara’s ear. “Be polite.”
Cara shot her mother a glance before heading into the kitchen to get the phone. Apparently even her proper mother was not immune to Rick’s charms. Why on earth was he calling?
“Hello?”
“Hi, Cara, this is Rick. I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed meeting you today. You’re quite an artist.”
Cara knew perfectly well he had an angle. But her wayward heart beat fast nonetheless. Rick Shea was calling her.
“Thank you.” She made an effort to keep her voice neutral. “How did you get my number?”
“Easy. Everybody in town knows your dad. Besides, my brother’s girlfriend works as a file clerk in the courthouse.”
Cara could almost hear the grin in his voice. Her father had been appointed to the Superior Court last year. Their phone number was unlisted as a result. Rick had obviously gone to some effort. She felt her heart speed up even more and she willed it to slow back down. Rick saved her the trouble of thinking up a response.
“Listen Cara, I’m wondering if we could meet tomorrow after school, at Evan’s ice cream parlor.”
“Um, I guess,” she said, surprising herself by accepting. “What time will you be there?”
“Around three-thirty. I’ll hold a booth for us. Look for me in the back corner.”
“All right.”
“Hey, I can’t wait to see you again. ’Night, Cara.”
“Bye, Rick.”
Cara set the receiver back in its cradle. She stood still for a moment wondering what on earth she’d just done. What could Rick Shea possibly want with her? She wasn’t one of the cool girls. She kept to herself and the other kids at school thought she was weird. Besides, a lot of people knew what had happened. Not everybody, but enough. Cara felt like some of the kids pitied her, but others looked at her like she’d asked for it, as if she’d gone along with Mr. Walker willingly. Everyone who knew anything about that Christmas Eve was protective of Connie Engels, protective of her reputation. Unlike Cara, Connie had fought back. Her parents made it clear to everybody who expressed concern that what had happened was not Connie’s fault.
In contrast, Cara’s parents never said a word about Mr. Walker. They told Cara she was not to discuss it. Although Cara wasn’t certain how her dad felt about what she’d done, her mother called her a disgrace. She said, “It’s a miracle that we can even hold up our heads in this town.” Cara felt like a leper.
“What did he say?”
Cara nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling around. “Jeez, Mom, what are you doing standing there? You scared me to death.”
Her mother ignored her. “Why did he call? He’s such a polite young man. You barely said two words to him.”
“He just wants me to meet him at Evan’s after school, to get some ice cream or something. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal? A boy like that calls you and you think it’s no big deal? You’re lucky any boy is calling you at all after what happened.”
Cara’s eyes grew wide and she felt the blood drain from her face. She stared at her mother.
“Well, what do you expect? You’re no raving beauty and everybody knows . . .”
“Everybody knows what, Mom?”
“That you, well . . . I don’t have to spell it out for you.”
Cara’s voice rose. “Spell what out, Mom? Maybe you should spell it out. I’d like to know what everybody . . .” She stopped when her father entered the room.
“Why are you yelling, Cara? Don’t speak to your mother in that tone. Apologize to her immediately.”
Cara stared at the floor.
“Cara,” her father said in what she’d come to think of as his judge voice.
Cara spoke through gritted teeth, “Sorry, Mom.”
From over her father’s shoulder she watched her mother shape her lips into a smirk. She said, “You should be a little more respectful to your parents, young lady.”
Blinking back tears, Cara asked, “May I please be excused? I have homework.”
Her father nodded. As she headed up the stairs, Cara could hear them discussing her behavior. She heard her father’s deep bass notes, but she couldn’t make out his words. However her mother’s shrill voice came through loud and clear.
“That girl gets more disrespectful by the day. Do you know that she didn’t even stay to talk to the mayor today? She snuck out after the photographer was finished. It took me twenty minutes to find her. She was off somewhere in the back of the building doing who knows what. She smelled like cigarettes when she got in the car.”
Her father’s voice rumbled.
“That may be,” replied her mother. “But I think she behaves like a common . . .”
Cara reached her room and closed her door, shutting out the remainder of the conversation. She was sure her mother’s last word would be slut. Possibly tramp. Her mother was right. Why would Rick Shea, the most popular boy in three high schools, want anything to do with her?
∗ ∗ ∗
Despite Cara’s doubts, Rick was waiting for her the next day, exactly as he’d promised, in the back booth at Evans soda fountain. He rose from his seat when she approached, greeting her politely, and then helped her with her backpack, sliding next to her as she slipped onto the vinyl bench.
“I’m really glad you came,” he said. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
“I-I almost did,” Cara stuttered, surprised to hear the truth spill from her lips.
“Why would you change your mind? I won’t bite. Well, not yet.”
Cara laughed. “I don’t go out much. To be honest, I don’t go out with guys at all.”
“Yeah, I heard. I don’t really understand why. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I should have to beat the other guys off with a stick.”
Cara felt her heart jump. If this was a line, it was the best line she’d ever imagined.
Cara shrugged. “Most guys think I’m weird.”
“Their loss,” he said. “I already ordered for you. I hope you don’t mind. One scoop of French vanilla with hot fudge, no nuts, no cherry, no whipped cream.”
“How did you know?” Cara was stunned.
“I told you yesterday. I’ve noticed you. I pay attention.”
The time flew by. Cara hadn’t opened herself up to another person in ages. When there was a break in the conversation and she finally noticed the time, it was nearly five thirty. She was late.
“I was supposed to be home at five,” she said. “My mom is going to have a fit.”
“I’ll give you a ride.” Rick was nonchalant. “My bike’s out back.”
“Your motorcycle? I’ve . . . I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Rick grabbed her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “C’mon.”
His bike was beautiful, a royal blue Harley Davidson. Rick mounted the seat, flipping down the footrests behind him. Cara stood frozen in place for a moment, unable to quite believe this unexpected chain of events. He started the bike with a roar.
“Hop on.”
She didn’t hesitate. He handed her the backpack, and she secured it over her shoulders before climbing onto the seat behind him. She slid down the slick leather until she was pressed against his body. Cara didn’t know exactly what to do with her arms. Rick solved the problem for her by reaching back to pull her arms forward. He tucked them snugly around
his waist. That brought Cara’s cheek in contact with his hard, muscled back. She inhaled. He smelled spicy, musky, like Pub aftershave. She caught a bit of the sweet fragrance of wood and sawdust that clung to his soft sweater.
Rick pulled the bike out into the back alley and after looking both ways, took off. The ride home was the most exhilarating experience of Cara’s life. She threw her head back and laughed. Beneath her hands and her chest she could feel Rick join her, his laugh deep and throaty. Just like that, Cara was caught.
“Why?” Cara asked, as she lay on her side, Rick’s slow and steady hand sliding along her naked hip. “Why did you notice me?”
“Are you kidding?” Rick looked incredulous. “Have you seen your reflection in a mirror recently? Do you even have a clue what you look like?”
“What do I look like?”
“Like a goddess,” he replied. “When I told you at Evan’s that you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, that wasn’t a line of bull. I told you the truth. From the moment I laid eyes on you months ago, I decided you, and only you, would be my girlfriend.”
“But you can have any girl you want.”
“I don’t want any girl. I want you.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand. Relax. Be my girlfriend. Enjoy what we have.”
Cara and Rick had been together a month. Step by slow step, he’d convinced her that it was all right to let him near her, to be with him. She’d listened to his kind words, but more than that, Cara blossomed beneath his gentle touch. She’d dropped her guard and opened her heart, willingly following Rick into his bed. He taught Cara she didn’t have to fear him, treating her with respect. Rick showed her how it felt to be loved and cherished.
Today his mom was in the kitchen, making lunch for them. There was a world of difference his household and hers. Rick, his older brother Jessie, and his younger brother Mark had a relaxed relationship with their mother and an indifferent relationship with their hard-drinking father.
The boys brought home whomever they chose, whenever they chose and neither parent ever said a word. At first Cara was terribly embarrassed by the situation, but when Rick teased her about her flaming cheeks in the same smoky voice that got him whatever he wanted, Cara forgot her discomfort. She found she couldn’t withhold any part of herself from him.
The first time Rick had tried to kiss her like Mr. Walker had kissed her, Cara ran from him, flying down the stairs, racing blindly into the woods behind his house. Rick chased her down, took her into his arms and held her until she stopped shaking. He led her back to his room where he sat her down on the bed, admitting to her that he’d heard a version of the story. Cara stumbled to his bathroom and threw up. When she lifted her head, she found him waiting for her, a cold can of pop in his hand.
“We’re going to take this slow,” he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, but you need to get over him.”
“I-I can’t,” Cara replied, her voice shaking. “Whenever anyone touches me, it’s his touch I feel and I get sick.”
“That’s because he wasn’t supposed to do that to you. I mean, maybe old guys think about it doing it with young girls but they’re not supposed to do it.”
Cara blurted out the whole story. Rick listened to her in silence.
“I didn’t want him to. I tried to stop him. I tried to get him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t. I know everyone thinks I just let him, that I let him do whatever he wanted, especially after what happened to Connie. But it wasn’t my choice. I didn’t have a choice. Even my parents think I let him. Rick, I didn’t even know what he was doing to me.”
“I’m not him,” Rick said. “It’s okay when you do it with me. Really Cara, it’s okay with me. I’ll explain everything to you. Anything you want to know, anything you don’t understand, I’ll explain, and if you’ll let me, I’ll show you. Really, honey, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I can fix this for you. It will feel good with me. I swear to you, it will feel good with me.”
Cara didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but when he spoke to her in that soft, smoky voice and he used words like “sexiest thing I’ve ever seen”, Cara felt an odd clench in her stomach and she found herself wanting to trust him, wanting to do exactly what he wanted her to do.
Rick was right. It did feel good with him. Rick’s touch was nothing whatsoever like Mr. Walker’s.
When he was at her home, Rick behaved like the perfect gentleman. He watched the network news with her father, joined them for supper, showed off his impeccable table manners, and always remembered to bring flowers for her mother.
As the months passed, Cara came to realize Rick was a real pro when it came to reading people. He took great care, spinning charming webs of nearly invisible silk, catching whatever he wanted with a minimum of trouble. Despite knowing that, she was stuck fast. He had set the perfect trap. Rick Shea wanted her and he got her. He touched her, she quivered. He kissed her, she burned. Their relationship was the talk of the school. Everyone who had ignored Cara for two years treated her with a newfound respect, even awe. After all, she was Rick Shea’s girlfriend.
∗ ∗ ∗
When Rick told her he’d planned something special for her birthday, she knew it would be spectacular. He instructed her to make up some reason to stay out all night. She just had to let him know where to pick her up.
After convincing one of Karen’s former cheerleader friends to cover for her, Cara told her parents she’d been invited to a slumber party. Her mother was excited about the invitation, even offering to bring by a midnight pizza. Cara declined, saying that everything had already been arranged.
She packed up her pajamas and toothbrush, and grabbed a sleeping bag. Her dad volunteered to drive her to the party.
“You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll walk home in the morning,” Cara said.
“Call in the morning and we can decide,” said her dad.
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Have fun.” Her father drove off.
She waved until he’d vanished around the corner. A few minutes later Rick showed up on his Harley. He kissed her. Cara could feel his eagerness in his kiss. He tossed her things into the woods across the street. “We’ll get them in the morning,” he said.
Cara climbed onto the back of his Harley and they headed out of town.
The sun was low in the sky by the time they reached their destination, a pond in the middle of nowhere. Rick had already set up a large tent stuffed with blankets and fluffy pillows. A fire burned in a fire pit and he’d stuck a bottle of champagne on ice. Cara had never tasted champagne.
A cooler sat nearby. It held two rib eye steaks, cooked green beans, enough salad for two and gooey chocolate brownies, Cara’s favorite. Cara blinked back tears. No one had ever before gone to so much trouble for her. For the first time in her life, she felt beloved.
Rick covered a space for them on the grass with a blanket, inviting her to sit, while he took charge of preparing her birthday dinner. The champagne bottle opened with a pop and he poured her a glass. Cara held it, admiring the bubbles. He’d even brought glass champagne flutes.
“Take a sip.”
It was cold and crisp, fruity and slightly bittersweet on her tongue. It tasted nothing like her dad’s martinis. She sipped, cautious, watching Rick grill the steaks. She’d heard that if a person drank too much, she got sick. The last thing she wanted to be tonight was sick.
Rick knelt before her, offering her a plate. Together they reclined on the blanket, feeding each other morsels of food. Cara couldn’t imagine a more romantic evening.
After dinner, the two sat arm in arm, watching the vibrant pink light of the setting sun fade from the sky. When darkness had fallen and the crickets began to chirp, Rick led her to the tent. They had the entire night together. For the first time since they’d been together, Rick spoke the words she’d been waiting to hear. “I love you, Cara.”
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Cara shattered. She clung to him, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. “I love you too. An entire night spent in Rick’s arms was heaven.
The next day was something more akin to hell.
Cara snuggled against Rick on the Harley, brushing her lips over his back as they rode into town. She felt like she was a part of him, something she’d never felt with another human being. He turned to wink at her, tucking her arms even tighter around his waist. Cara turned to press her cheek against his sun-warmed leather jacket, comforted by his gesture. There was no need for words. His actions said it all.
They rounded the corner near Amy’s house. Rick planned to drop her off so she could gather her things and walk home. They rode directly into two police cars and her parents. Cara felt Rick’s muscles tense. She sensed he was about to turn the bike around and flee.
“Don’t,” she whispered. A move like that could get them both in a lot more trouble than they were in right now. Cara knew Rick’s parents wouldn’t be angry with him, but her parents could ruin his life.
“Stop,” she said. “Stop here and let me off. Don’t say a word. Let me handle it. Please.”
Cara didn’t know what her parents had in store for Rick, but he didn’t deserve to be punished. Her father was powerful enough to run his family out of town on a rail. She couldn’t let that happen. Rick sat frozen while she unwrapped herself from his body and slid off the bike. As Cara approached the two police officers and her parents, she decided that the best defense was a good offense. Her mother stood half hidden behind her father’s bulk, arms crossed over her chest, a smirk on her face.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cara stared at her mother, mustering all her strength.
Her father’s voice rumbled, ominously low. “Shut your mouth and get over here young lady.”
“No,” shouted Cara. “I won’t go home with you. I hate you! I hate you both!”
Her mother stepped around her father. She slapped Cara, knocking her back a step. “Why you filthy little liar . . . How dare you?”
Cara’s face flamed. Refusing to look back at Rick, she sprinted down the sidewalk, hoping for nothing more than to get away from her parents. Within seconds she heard pounding feet behind her and she was tackled, knocked to the ground. Cara threw her arms in front of her face to shield her head, but her right arm hit the pavement at an odd angle. She felt the bone snap with a cracking sound.
Come Back To Me Page 4
