by Sara Hess
“Nothing.” She held up her hands in defense as I came barreling up to her.
I halted in front of her looking her over. She didn’t look injured or otherwise distraught; well, except for her knee jerk reaction to me rushing up to her. I pulled her in for a hug. “Shit, seeing you here when you should be at work had me thinking something was wrong.”
Carrie’s schedule was relatively unvarying; Monday through Saturday three or four to eight pm. It was almost religious, and something I really wanted to change. At the moment I couldn’t and since it was almost half past six on a Tuesday she should be at work.
“Did they call you off?”
Emotions wavered over her face. “Not really…I called in because I needed to show you something.” Her gaze shifted behind me and I knew it wasn’t just to give the guys a small wave. She was nervous about something and avoiding my stare.
Carrie had been acting a little off for the last couple days. I’d put it down to my error in judgment and stress, but now I wasn’t so sure. “Not that I’m not thrilled to spend more time with you, but why would you have to call in to work just to show me something? It couldn’t wait until after work?”
Her hands were clenching telling me she was getting worked up at whatever it was. “What I want to show you starts at six-thirty.”
My eyebrows shut up. What? “Uh…that’s pretty specific, but okay. Is this like a surprise, and if it is is it good or bad?”
“That’s hard to say.” She prevaricated as her gaze shifting away again.
The guys tromped past us into the house carrying four boxes of pizzas. Carrie smiled nervously at each one of them as they greeted her. I herded her inside the house after them. I was going to have to get a key made for her because I didn’t like her having to sit on the porch waiting for me if something like this happened again.
The guys headed for the kitchen and food. I was starving too but I needed to find out what was up with Carrie first. She headed for the living room and walking up to the television turning it on.
“You want me to watch a show?” I asked confused. Why would she take off from work just for a TV show?
She walked over to sit on the couch flicking another nervous glance my way. “It’s a pretty important show. I know you’re probably hungry and the program doesn’t start for another five minutes, so why don’t you go grab your food.”
I stared at her with rising disquiet. She really wasn’t acting like herself. I could see that she wasn’t distressed, she just seemed…edgy. Walking over I gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Okay. I’ll grab something and be right back. Do you want some?”
She grimaced slightly. “No, I’m not really all that hungry at the moment.”
Walking into the kitchen the guys all gave me inquisitive looks around mouths stuffed with pizza with all the toppings. “She took off work to show me something on TV.” I shrugged in confusion. Seizing a paper plate I loading it with four slices. Noah pushed over two water bottles and I stuck them under my arm.
“What time is the show?” Landon asked before taking another bite of pie.
“Six-thirty.” I answered. Seth frowned but stayed quiet. “What?”
“She didn’t tell you what show?” He asked.
“No.”
He went silent again but still held onto his frown. His quiet contemplation wasn’t doing much for my already heightened tension.
“What?” I pressed irritably.
“The news is at six-thirty.” Evan put forth for him.
I froze for a second as I processed that. The news. Did Carrie want me to watch the news? The only reason I could come up with for that was because they were going to do some story on her…or me…or us.
I jolted out of my deep freeze in alarm. “Fuck, you don’t think they did a news story on her, do you?”
Seth’s expression was worried. “I hope not.”
My gaze tracked the rest of the guys. Their faces held similar expressions of apprehension. With no further delay I headed back to the living room.
Carrie was still sitting on the couch and the news was indeed starting on the channel. Mother Fucking Damn! Sitting down I plopped the pizza and waters on the coffee table and looked at her in concern. She gave me a small smile that I could see held nervousness, but I couldn’t see any real distress. Her knee bumped mine.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” She asked looking at my food.
I was actually afraid to put anything in my stomach right now. “Carrie, did the news station do a story on you?” I could hear the tightly held anger spilling out at the thought of fucking reporter’s tearing into her life.
Her smile tightened. “Uhm…they…I” Her eyes shifted and widened as she looked over my shoulder to the doorway. I could hear footsteps shuffling slightly behind me telling me the guys were standing there. I didn’t turn to look though because my attention was captured by what was being said on the news station.
“Up next we have a live interview with a Miss Carrie Harper who’s been in the news recently. The story’s being reported on her have been citing a news article from four years ago claiming that Carrie was charged with killing her father and being institutionalized for it. She’s come forward for her first ever interview to correct the information being reported about her. Also joining us is a Dr. Mona Mathew’s of Briar Green Hospital the tending psychiatrist who treated Carrie during her stay there. Stay with us after these commercials to find out her story.”
The show cut out to a commercial and I turned to look at Carrie in complete astonishment. “Holy shit. What did you do?”
Her eyes stared at me in apprehension. “I’ve been getting calls from some reporters asking me about my story…” She must have seen the increased anger on my face because her hand came to rest on my knee. “…and I decided that I’d tell my side rather than them writing the same abridged story from four years ago. I don’t want your name attached to the type of person they’ve been portraying.”
“Carrie, I told you I don’t give a shit what other people think.” Dammit! I can’t believe she put herself through an interview just for me. I didn’t want her thinking she needed to do that. Hell, I’m pretty sure I impressed upon her that I absolutely didn’t want her doing anything like that.
Her hand tightened on my knee and she smiled. “I know you don’t, but I care what other people are thinking about you, just like you care what people are thinking about me. This interview will fix this for both of us. The public will finally hear the real story about what happened to me and not have to piece together their own from the erroneous information they’ve been supplied.”
Anger strangled my gut; that reporter’s had been hounding her, that she’d felt like she needed to do this, that she’d done it alone, that she had to do it at all. However, before I could say anything…and not really certain what I would have said…the news came back on.
Carrie’s hand remained on my knee as the female reporter popped onto the screen and began addressing Carrie’s past and the articles. Then Carrie herself was on the screen with Dr. Mathews, and I have to say she looked great…Carrie that is…although, Dr. Mathews looked good as well.
Carrie’s expression on the screen appeared serene as she relayed the true events of what occurred the night she defended herself from her father’s attack, but whenever the camera spanned out I could see that she was holding tightly to Mona’s hand for support.
It was only a ten minute interview but it seemed to last forever and was very difficult to watch. My anger was pushed back as my heart bled that she had to relive that whole thing again, and I could see that she hated having to label her father an attempted rapist. When the reporter asked Carrie about her family life and how she viewed her father at present Carrie repeated the same thing she’d told me. That her father had never once tried anything before that night and that her memories of him were loving ones. She even went on to say that she believed deep down her father had tried to repress his predilection until al
cohol had weakened his resolve. The reporter asked Carrie if she forgave her father for what he tried to do to her and without hesitating Carrie replied ‘yes’.
Nothing was said about her mother and I knew Carrie must have made that a stipulation of the interview. Carrie was still protecting her mother after all she’d done.
However, the reporter did bring up Carrie’s involvement with me asking how I was handling all the publicity. This was the only time Carrie’s composure cracked. Her face on the screen contorted faintly like she was holding back tears. She said that I supported her completely and praised my family for raising such an accepting and compassionate son.
Had she said that to get a dig in at them or in hopes of tugging on their heart strings? If it was the second she hadn’t caught on yet that neither one of my parents had a heart.
“Damn.” Landon whispered from the doorway after the interview finished.
I’d forgotten that the guys were standing in the entry way. I’d told them an abridged account of Carrie’s story, I’d had to tell them something after her mother had surprised her that day at the stadium spouting all her craziness, however, hearing the actual tale from her was especially poignant and profound. Shit, I remember how I felt the first time I heard it, and they still didn’t know the whole of it. They didn’t know how she’d almost wasted away in the hospital, or how she’d had no one besides Carl, and that he’d possibly saved her from committing suicide.
I looked back at Carrie for the first time since the interview began trying to keep my face expressionless. She was staring at me in trepidation. “Tell me that you didn’t do that for me in an attempt to get my father to change his mind?” I asked in what I thought was an incredibly mild and composed voice. It was difficult when all I wanted to do was shake her if she had indeed done it for me…albeit I’d do it gently.
I heard shuffling and knew the guys were giving us time alone.
Her hand, which had remained on my knee, lifted and she clasped them together in her lap. “I can’t say that you weren’t in my thoughts because everything I do I somehow factor you into it. I did it for me foremost because only a fraction of the truth was publicized and it portrayed me as the villain, and it did cross my mind that it could possible aide you as well. On the other hand, and to be absolutely truthful, if it would have been harmful to you I wouldn’t have done it.”
How could I argue with that? It was the same way I thought about her. She was my heart and every decision I made I considered her first.
Reaching out I scooped her into my lap making her squeak in surprise. Pinching her chin gently between my fingers I stared into her eyes intently. “I think you might be minimizing the significance of my troubles in your decision as it’s highly coincidental that you did this two days after hearing what my father did. You should have told me what you were planning, but I’m sure you realized I would have argued with you. Didn’t we just have a conversation Saturday about being truthful with each other above all things? I have to say, you doing this behind my back feels like a lie.” Carrie’s expression went white with guilt and it made me feel like a shit even though I felt like it needed to be said. “That aside, I am so damn proud of you.”
Carrie swallowed. “So…you’re not mad at me?”
“Oh, I’m fuming.” I refuted heatedly. “I’m your boyfriend. I should have been there by your side giving you support. I should have been the one your hand was clenching tightly. I’m glad you had Mona, but Carrie…it should had been me.” I stated emphatically unable to keep the hurt and anger out of my voice.
Carrie’s eyes filled with tears and she flung her arms around me burrowing her face in my neck. Even through my anger and hurt I rubbed her back soothingly abhorring her distress.
“I’m so sorry. You’re right, and I wanted you there so badly. I knew you would fight with me about going public right after I found out about your dad’s actions, but I convinced myself that it was all my decision, my problem. When I talked to Mona and my therapist about it they said I should be certain I was doing this for myself, and I did before I made that call to the reporter.” Carrie leaned back looking me with tear-filled eyes. “I won’t lie; the thought of going public only came to me because of the trouble you’re having, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed like the right thing to do. I deliberated for hours making sure I wasn’t doing it just for you, and it finally came to me that I needed to do it for me. I was admitting to the world and myself that I wasn’t to blame. I loved my father, but he was responsible for what happened. I’ve felt so guilty about killing him…but it’s not my fault…it’s his…it’s his.”
She stuffed her face back in my neck sobbing, ‘I’m sorry’, repeatedly. Any lingering resentment I had liquefied into agonizing sympathy at her suffering. I think her repeated apologies were more for her father than me. I knew she’d felt guilty about killing her father, but after all this time I hadn’t realized it was this severe. And even though she was acknowledging it I don’t believe she truly accepted it, not in her heart. It also wasn’t something anyone could convince her of. Carrie had to come to terms with it herself, and that would take time. If she’d had family and friends to lean on and love her when it had happened she might have recognized it by now, but she hadn’t at the time.
She did now though.
I rocked and cradled her tightly. “It’s okay, baby. Shhhh, it’s okay.”
She shook her head on my shoulder unable to speak through her crying. I kept up my soothing mantra and eventually she quieted.
“I’m sorry for going behind your back after I yelled at you for lying to me.” She whispered brokenly. “I’m such a hypocrite.”
I almost chuckled at her definition of yelling. “Well, we both did something stupid believing we were doing the right thing, and now we’ve both learned lessons on what not to do. Let’s move on from this and become smarter people, okay?” I stated with kiss to the side of her head.
She sniffed and brought her hand up to wipe at her face before leaning back to look at me. Her eyes and nose were red and she was disheveled, and through it all she was still amazingly beautiful. “Really? You forgive me?”
“You forgave me, right?” I asked instead.
She nodded and sniffed. “Yes.”
“Then why wouldn’t I forgive you. I love you. You made a mistake and I know you won’t do it again because you love me.” I tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “You do realize I was more hurt than angry, don’t you Carrie?”
Her eyes pinched again and I could see she was holding back more tears. “Yes, and I hate myself for causing you hurt. I knew as soon as I sat down for that interview that I should have told you but by then it was too late. I’ve been agonizing on it all day. I did the interview this morning and it was torture not having you there, and I wish it had been you holding my hand.”
“If you would have stated your case like you had a minute ago I would have been on that couch beside you no argument. What you did took a lot of courage, and I meant what I said, ‘I’m damn proud of you.” I declared, though I still felt slighted at not being able to be there.
Her expression was pained. “I made the decision quickly which is something I probably shouldn’t have done. I had so many thoughts going through my mind that I don’t think I was rationalizing all too clearly. I know I wanted to help you in some way like you’ve helped me so many times. It never crossed my mind that I was lying, but I was consciously keeping it from you which in like lying. I really am sorry, Nic.”
I could just imagine the thoughts torturing her which made forgiving her easy. “Carrie, our relationship isn’t about keeping score. You loving me is more than enough. I’ve never had that in my life. You have to understand that neither my mother nor my father has given me any kind of affection, never mind love, so believe me when I tell you that your love is the greatest gift you could ever give me. You’ve filled a hole in my soul that I never even knew was there.” I needed her to value herself a
s enough for me. I didn’t need anything else from her.
Her eyes misted again and she pressed her forehead to mine. “It’s so hard to believe that they couldn’t give that to you. You’re perfect. You love perfectly. How could they not have smothered you with it?”
I laughed. “Oh, baby, I’m so far from perfect, but I have to say that you bring out the best in me. Nevertheless, how’s about we do each other a favor and work on not protecting each other from bad news anymore, because all that does is blow up in our faces.” I stated with a large helping of self-derision.
Carrie laughed and there was a slight sob affixed in it. Wrapping her arms around me she whispered. “You are the best boyfriend ev-er.”
I chuckled as she repeated my words back to me from Sunday.
∞ ∞ ∞
I walked into the bank in one of my finest tailored suits Wednesday at twelve-fifty. My lawyer was there waiting and I was pleased to see that he was on time. We spent the ten minutes before our appointment going over relevant issues before they called for us at exactly one o’clock. We were led to an elevator that took us up to the third floor and then we walked down a hallway to a conference room. The receptionist opened the door and led us into a room filled with eight individuals already seated at a large oval table.
My eyes skipped over every person looking for the one who set this all up. I knew he would want to be here to gloat over his successful manipulation of events. And there he was sitting next to the guy at the head of the table wearing a self-satisfied smirk. My father.
“Gentlemen, please take a seat.” The man at the head of the table spoke. I assumed he was the president of the bank. He was as exactly as I pictured him; weasely looking and overweight.
My lawyer and I took our seats at the other end of the table. My lawyer, Mr. Henry Andrews, pulled a recorder from his briefcase and set it on the table. “I assume no one cares if I record today’s meeting since I assume you are doing the same.”
The bank president’s face tensed somewhat but he nodded. “Of course. We are here to discuss the trust fund of a Mr. Nicholas Stanford. His father has some concerns about the company that his son is keeping and how he might be spending his money. Just recently Mr. Nicholas Stanford took out five thousand dollars for reasons unknown.”
