Someone was shaking Carol by the shoulder.
“Carol…wake up. We still have work to do. Carol?”
Carol resisted opening her eyes because part of her knew whatever “work” Gabrielle had for her would not be fun or pleasant.
“Carol!”
Her eyes popped open, sending a blinding pain through her temple. “Ow, ow, ow. What now?”
Standing above her, Gabrielle gave her a tight smile. “You don’t have to be so testy, you know. This is your dream, not mine. It’s not as if I’m getting paid.”
Carol frowned. “It’s because of your suggestion to seduce a man that I’m in this dilemma to begin with.”
“That was an optional assignment. Let’s get you up.”
Gabrielle helped her to a sitting position. Carol grimaced. “The pain is worse this time.”
Gabrielle made a rueful noise. “A person can take only so many hits.”
“Do you think it’s a sign that things are about to get worse?” “Or better.”
“Or worse,” Carol pressed.
“Or worse,” Gabrielle agreed.
“Has this happened to any of the other women in the book club?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Gabrielle said.
Carol gestured to the monitor lying in the floor on its side. “Let’s get this over with. What is it?”
“A look at Valentine’s Day To Come.”
Panic flowered in Carol’s chest. “How far into the future?” “Let’s see.”
Carol held up her hand. “I don’t want to.”
Gabrielle sat down on the floor next to Carol. “I know. And maybe that’s why I’m here.”
“What if I see something horrible…like what if I’m not even there?”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Gabrielle asked. “That you’ll die alone?”
Carol tried to think around the pain hammering her head. “Or maybe that I’ll die because I’m alone.”
Gabrielle laughed. “That’s not true. When a woman gets married, her life expectancy actually goes down. Besides, you don’t have to have a spouse or a lover to have a life rich with family and friends.”
“I don’t have family.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But you could have your own someday.”
“And…” Carol swallowed hard. “I don’t have friends.”
Gabrielle made a disbelieving noise. “Of course you have friends.”
“No, I don’t. I haven’t kept up with childhood friends, and my coworkers hate me.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is. They call me names behind my back, like Ice Princess.”
“You have the women in the book club.”
“They don’t like me either,” Carol said.
“Of course they do.”
“It’s why I agreed to the seduction experiment,” Carol admitted. “So they would like me. So I would fit in.”
“I see.” Gabrielle steepled her hands. “Why do you think you have trouble making friends?”
Carol shook her head. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Then why don’t we take a look at the monitor and go from there?”
Carol chewed on a thumbnail while the monitor blinked on. The scene that materialized was a group of five women, perhaps in their eighties, sitting around a table, drinking coffee out of mugs with hearts on them. Carol scanned the faces, looking for herself. “I don’t think any of those women are me.”
Gabrielle turned up the volume.
“Those were the days,” one woman was saying, “when books were actually made out of paper, when you could hold them in your hands and turn pages. Remember?”
The other women nodded, looking wistful.
“Cassie, how do you like your e-book reader?”
Gabrielle and Carol looked at each other. “That’s our Cassie!”
“I love it,” Cassie said, and when she smiled, Carol recognized the woman’s bright blue eyes. “I can carry hundreds of books around with no problem. How about you, Page?”
Gabrielle and Carol laughed when they realized they were looking at the Red Tote Book Club circa fifty years into the future.
“I love it, too,” Page said. “What I like best is that I can read the Red Tote Book Club selections on my e-reader and no one makes comments about an old lady reading dirty books!” Page Sharpe’s auburn hair had faded, but she was still very pretty—in fact, all of the women had aged well.
As the conversation proceeded, they were able to identify the other women by their voices.
“Oh, my goodness, that’s me!” Gabrielle said, pointing. “I’m completely white-headed!”
“But still beautiful,” Carol said.
Gabrielle beamed.
Over the course of the next few minutes, they gathered that, amazingly, all the men the women had seduced as part of their book club assignment had become either a husband or significant other—and that all the couples seemed to still enjoy a frisky sex life.
But it became clear that Carol wasn’t among the group, and the longer the scene played, the lower her heart hung.
“When was the last time anyone saw Carol Snow?” one of the women asked.
Carol sat forward.
They all made mournful noises and took the opportunity to sip their coffee. “I call her every few months and leave messages,” Jacqueline Mays said. “But she never returns my calls.”
“Me, too,” said Wendy Trainer, still wearing her trademark pixie cut. “I never hear back from her.”
“I send her a holiday card every year,” Cassie said. “But I never get one in return.”
Carol bit into her lip.
“I drove by her place once,” the Gabrielle on the screen said. “I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer. Her neighbor said she hardly ever sees her. Says all she does is stay in and watch TV.”
“Imagine that,” Cassie said. “She still has a television.”
“Didn’t TVs go out of vogue about the same time as paper books?” Wendy asked.
“Sounds right,” Jacqueline said. “God, we’re old.”
“But at least we have each other,” Page said.
“That’s right,” they all chimed in, clinking their coffee cups.
“I just wish we could reconnect with Carol,” Wendy said.
“If you remember,” Cassie said, “she was always standoffish.”
“Hard to get to know,” Page agreed.
“And she didn’t really participate that much,” Jacqueline said.
“Maybe she likes being alone,” Wendy added with a shrug.
In the end, all the women decided that yes, Carol must like being alone. Only the Gabrielle on the monitor said nothing, instead just sipped her coffee as the scene faded to black.
Carol blinked back desperate tears. “See? I’m destined to be alone.”
Gabrielle clasped her hand. “You’re not destined to be alone. You can control your personal relationships. So, after watching that future scene, why do you think you have trouble making friends?”
Carol sniffed and tried to collect herself. “Because I don’t extend myself. Because I don’t reach out to people and let them know I care. Because I don’t lean on other people for support when I need it.”
“All good reasons,” Gabrielle said. “And you understand that you’re going to have to change those behaviors to attract friends, and maybe lovers?”
She nodded. “Yes. And I will, if I ever get out of this endless loop I’m in.”
Gabrielle pushed to her feet. “There’s an old truism that says, ‘If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’ve got.’ To break out of your endless loop, maybe you need to do something unexpected.”
Carol gingerly stood. “Like what?”
Gabrielle smiled. “That’s up to you. It’s time to say goodbye.”
“I won’t see you again?”
The woman smiled wide. “Every week at the Red Tote Book Club as long as you choose to. Good luck with your journey back.”
Carol nodded and brushed her hands down the skirt of her Friday suit. Then she walked to the door of the storage room and let herself out in the hallway.
Her feet were heavy as she moved toward the elevator and her hands shook uncontrollably. She didn’t want to be the old woman everyone in the scene on the monitor talked about—the recluse whose only pastime was watching TV. The woman who was alone.
Completely, absolutely, utterly alone.
As Carol approached the elevator, she noticed that once again, preparations were underway for the afternoon party. Red decorations of cupids and hearts abounded. Blowups of some of the company’s Valentine’s Day cards leaned against the wall, including the “take no prisoners” card she’d seen on her assistant’s desk.
The volunteers shot unwelcome looks her way as she walked by.
If you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’ve got.
Carol pivoted and turned back. “Hi,” she said to the group of about twenty. “My name is Carol and I work in the finance department. And I was wondering if you could tell me what you’d do with a thousand dollars if it fell out of the sky.”
At first the employees were shy about speaking up, but the more probing questions that Carol asked about their families, eventually everyone opened up. She’d expected them to give answers such as a family vacation or a plasma television, not things like medical bills, car repairs, or a new heating unit for their home.
She enjoyed the conversation and appreciated their honesty. When she walked away, she had a better understanding of what kinds of daily financial obligations the average family faced—from school expenses to insurance to caring for elderly parents.
On the ride up to her floor, Carol turned to each person in the elevator and asked them a question about their job. At first, people looked at her warily. That’s when Carol realized that people really did see her as cold and uncaring.
And why not? She hadn’t given anyone a reason to think anything else—not potential friends and not potential lovers.
Luke’s face floated into her mind. That was about to change she just hoped she wasn’t too late.