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Carmen fumbled with the gate. After her trembling hands missed the latch twice, she succeeded at last. She shoved it open and spilled out onto the sidewalk.
Her mind was a fierce war between guilt and anger. Had she been using Sawyer? Used him and had the audacity to be angry about his past? The man’s wife had left him under circumstances she did not know or understand. That it had hurt him deeply was clear. Who was she to be tossing blame around? The pain that twisted his features after her harsh words displayed itself once more in her mind’s eye, and she let a shuddery breath escape her lungs. She needed space, but the most frustrating thing was she had nowhere to go. All her things were at Sawyer’s. She was too broke to get another hotel room.
The Stevenson house sat at the end of a tree-lined lane bright with streetlamps, but the concrete ribbon was a grey blur beneath Carmen’s feet. She slicked tears away with her hands snuffled against her sleeve. Her body seemed determined to gush saltwater. She stopped to gather her bearings with a groan and jumped when the squeal of a vehicle’s brakes cut the night behind her. Turning on her heels, Carman squinted. A car stopped on the road a couple hundred metres away, idling. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she scrubbed another hand over her eyes, trying to clear her vision. What the hell was it doing? As she stared, the car began to reverse slowly. Carmen shook her head. She was losing it.
Turning, she resumed walking, getting about a block before another car approached. It slowed, this time pulling over on the shoulder across from her.
“Carmen?”
It took her a moment to place the driver. “Chu . . . I mean, Charlotte?” Carmen pressed a hand to her chest to contain her heart. This whole thing with Billy had her far too jumpy.
Charlotte leaned out the window to peer at Carmen. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Given the state of her face, the fact she was not fine had to be glaringly obvious.
“Let me give you a ride,” Charlotte commanded.
Carmen sniffled. She considered arguing, then nodded. “Okay.” Looking up and down the lanes, she crossed to Charlotte’s car.
“Hop in and, please, excuse the mess.” Charlotte whipped stray napkins and a travel mug off the seat and onto the floor with her arm. “I just got off work, so I apologize for the bacon smell.”
“I never have and shall never be opposed to the aroma of bacon.” Carmen snagged a napkin off the floor and blew her nose, wincing. “Sorry.”
Charlotte laughed and pulled the car back onto the street. “You come from Sawyer’s parents’ house’?” She tossed the question out in a casual voice, but it reminded Carmen of her behaviour at the café. She glanced over, wondering if she should say anything.
Charlotte caught her look and smiled. “I grew up with them,” she said, “Alice used to babysit me while my dad worked. Man, I’ve got so many stories.” She chuckled. “Hell, I remember her trying to potty train Sawyer. He ran around stark naked for an entire summer and used this little ducky potty. He couldn’t say the D, sounded like fwuck every time.”
Carmen chuckled. As much as she did not want to think about Sawyer right now, she was a sucker for adorable toddler anecdotes.
Charlotte gave her a sideways glance. “So, do you want to go back to a smelly bachelor pad, or do you want to go for a drink with me?”
“Drink.” Charlotte had scarcely finished her sentence before the word left Carmen’s mouth.
“Done.” Dimples popped in Charlotte’s heart-shaped face. She possessed the talent of spontaneous laughter. It flowed from her abundantly and without the snorting that so often accented Carmen’s own.
Two tequila shots and a glass of acidic house red turned out to be the exact formula of alcohol needed for Charlotte’s curiosity to get the better of her. Tossing back the last shot, she smacked the table with her palm, her dark-rimmed eyes wide as she stared at Carmen. “Talk to me, sista,” she said.
Carmen stared at Charlotte. She had brown doe eyes and glowing caramel skin. Small and curvy, Charlotte had an overabundance of thick, luxurious hair that fell around her face and down her shoulders in a curly riot. Carmen instantly felt attached to her. She drained her glass with a sigh, suppressing a shudder at the burn of the alcohol on her tongue. Out of habit, Carmen opened her mouth to protest. To say she was fine, but, to her surprise, Carmen found she wanted to talk. It had been forever since she had spoken with another female. Before Carmen knew it, she had spilled everything to Charlotte. All about Billy and their tumultuous relationship and how she left after he hit her. The fear Carmen harboured over her father’s reaction. When she got to Sawyer, she could not stop.
“Is he a total playboy? Did I just become a notch on his bedpost?” She flapped her hands around in booze-fuelled punctuation. “I’m such an idiot!”
Charlotte shook her head so hard that strands of hair stuck to her glossed lips. “You’re not an idiot. You’re a straight female with eyes in your head and, I assume all the working, well . . . parts.” She waggled her brows and leaned across the table so that their faces were inches apart. “You have any idea what I would give for a roll in the hay with Sawyer Stevenson?”
“Oh!” Carmen buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I saw how you looked at him. I shouldn’t be talking about this.”
Charlotte pried Carmen’s fingers away from her face. “No, no. You need to, and I have no problem living vicariously through you.” Her smile was wistful as she settled back in her chair.
Carmen bobbed her head. It felt fuzzy with booze and emotions. Fleetingly, she worried it would roll right off. “I hurt him, Charlotte. I feel so terrible about what I said to him.”
Charlotte patted her hand. “He may occasionally be overzealous with his affections, but Sawyer has been through a lot. He uses jokes, flirting, to hide his pain.”
That confirmed something Carmen had also noticed. She contemplated the bottom of her empty glass. “I’m not sure how to make it right,” she whispered.
“He’s a good guy. He’ll get it.”
“Has he had a serious relationship since . . .” Carmen could not bring herself to say Sawyer’s ex-wife’s name.
“Ceeelliiinneee.” Charlotte trailed the word like the hiss of a snake. “And no. He hasn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen waved a hand, then frowned in accusation. “You know her.” The overwhelming desire for information drove her to point a finger directly at Charlotte’s face. “Tell me. Please.”
Charlotte signalled at the server for more drinks. Once they arrived, she hunkered down with the distinct air of someone about to embark on a story. “Let’s see. Celine is kind. Drop-dead gorgeous. She and Sawyer were high school sweethearts and got married a year after graduation. Everything seemed fine. Then she cheated and broke his heart.”
“Why on earth would anyone—”
“With her yoga instructor.” Charlotte sank her teeth into her bottom lip and leaned toward Carmen like a conspirator. “Her female yoga instructor.” She finished with the climactic air of a show woman.
Carmen digested the extra information. “I suppose you know the yoga lady too.”
“Yeah, but not as well.” Charlotte hitched a shoulder in dismissal. “The whole thing crushed Sawyer. He went on a drinking binge, got into fights, and, yes, slept with probably a few too many women. His brother, Sam, finally knocked some sense into him, physically and mentally.” She twisted her lips, thoughtful. “He never told me what else happened between him and Celine, but there was something and they couldn’t recover. Whatever it was, it almost broke Sawyer, and it finished destroying a marriage that was already falling apart.”
Carmen was fairly certain she knew. The box in the office with the ultrasound photo and the lamb. The pills in Sawyer’s bathroom cupboard and the pictures concealed beneath others on the fridge. Carmen bobbed her head. She was developing an idea of what Sawyer had endured in the past years and the suspicion made her heart ache for him.
“What’s Celine’s Mom’s name?” she asked Charlotte suddenly, desperate to change the topic.
Charlotte frowned in surprise at the random question. “Pamela, I think.”
“What the hell happened with Dan and some girl?” Carmen bounced to the next question as soon as Charlotte answered.
Charlotte’s face twisted into an exaggerated wince. “Oh, man, everyone in town talked about that for weeks.”
“Spill it, if you please,” Carmen demanded.
“I only heard the gossip, but—” Charlotte stopped to sip her wine. Carmen leaned across the table, hungry for her words, and nearly toppled her wine glass.
“Sawyer took some girl over to his parents’ for dinner. They got shit-faced, and this chick took a pass at Dan. Followed him to bed after Sawyer passed out downstairs.” The dimple in her left cheek popped with the force of her smirk. “Let’s just say Alice didn’t take kindly to some floozy messin’ with her man.”
“Wow. I mean . . . Wow. Dan didn’t—?”
“No way! Dan would never—have you seen the way he looks at Alice?”
Carmen lifted her glass to her lips, shaking her head. “Of course, I did. I’d give my left nut for someone to look at me like that.” Charlotte jerked her eyes up to Carmen in surprise, and they both collapsed into giggles.
“Better say goodbye to that nut, ’cause I think you found him,” said Charlotte. She downed the rest of her wine in one impressive swallow and waggled her eyebrows at Carmen, who still shook with laughter. Blood red drops escaped and ran over the backs of her fingers, and she licked them off, snorting. “No wonder people acted weird about my being there. Why didn’t Sawyer tell me? Warn me!”
Charlotte shrugged, tipping slightly on her chair.” I imagine it isn’t one of his prouder moments. Not a story you tell the lady you’re crushing on.”
“Ugh. I suppose.” Carmen poked at a smattering of wine that had spilled on the scarred surface. “You think he’s crushing on me?” she asked.
“Shit, yeah.” Charlotte reached out to pat her hand. She missed and tried again. “Want me to walk you over to his place? I think you two should talk.”
“Yes, please, I need to apologize.” Carmen stood. Steadied herself against Charlotte and thrust an arm in the direction of the door. “Let’s go!”
Charlotte hooked her arm through Carmen’s out-thrust one and pulled her around in an about-face. “Let’s pay,” she said. “Then let’s go.”