“As you know from the links I sent, this is the only available duplex option, and I think it’s perfect for two modern gals like y’all,” Aubrey chirped. “Kitchens and bathrooms are newly renovated, and appliances are all up-to-date. And would you check out these beautiful marble countertops.” She slicked a hand over the smooth surface. “To die for. Hard to tell with this rainy weather, but the skylights in the foyer offer great natural lighting. Of course, if you really want an upgrade, I’ve got a four-thousand-square-foot colonial with a marsh view that’s new on the market.”
“Sounds a little out of our price range, Aubrey,” Perdie mused as she strolled around the kitchen island.
Aubrey adjusted the pendant on her delicate gold necklace. She wore a bright red cardigan. The correct shade. “You know the owner. Carter Leplan?”
Perdie’s hand froze over a shining chrome faucet handle. “He’s selling his house? But he must’ve just bought it?” The words tumbled out a little too fast.
“Mmm-hmm, such a shame he’s leaving tomorrow. Back to San Francisco. He’s a looker, that one. Sweet though.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
The news sent a bolt of panic down Perdie’s spine. She had questions. Although things were already over, Carter moving away meant it was really the end. It meant he wasn’t secretly pining for her like he had been in her dreams. He wasn’t trying to bump into her by accident at the grocery store. He was moving. Moving on.
Lucille wandered in from the dining room in a Pussy Riot shirt and a sucker hanging from her mouth. She popped it out. “We’ll take it. You think we could convert this room into a studio?” She glanced at Perdie. “The hell’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Perdie snapped, but her internal systems short-circuited.
Later that night, while the sky rained and thundered, Perdie did the one thing she swore she’d never do again, not since the day they’d first met: she googled Carter Leplan.
“Whatcha doing, P?” asked Lucille, who was strolling through the house inspecting every nook and cranny for a potential future move-out day.
Perdie jumped in her chair, her body involuntarily tense. “Torturing myself.”
“Don’t torture too late. You have an important meeting tomorrow.”
She did. Perdie, Jennifer, and Sophia had been working hard on Noah’s case. “No promises.”
A rumbling of thunder had her jumping again. A nervous energy permeated. What was she searching for? A sign? A Google search sign? For what though? Perdie scrolled through the lawyerly results, pictures of Carter wearing expensive suits and professional smiles, links to the Joy and Schulz website and Carter’s old firm.
Then something caught her eye. Exhibition: SF Museum of Modern Art, Cindy Leplan The Paths We Choose.
Don’t you click that fucking link, Perdita.
She clicked the fucking link. Carter’s mother’s exhibition from Easter.
Her heart dropped. In the cover shot of an embedded video was Carter, almost hidden in the background near an enormous painting of a multicolored fluorescent and gold-brushed mountain.
Against good self-preserving sense, she played the video. Cindy Leplan, in a gold-and-blush gown/muumuu hybrid spoke to the camera interview-style, her voice floaty and calm. “It’s about ‘The Road Not Taken.’ The Robert Frost poem. People often misinterpret it, but I’ve endeavored to capture its imagery here. No matter what road we choose in life, we might always ask ourselves what could have been. The colors of life are multitudinous. Both the regret and the joy of choice is one of life’s inevitable tortures.”
But Perdie’s eyes fixated on the action behind Cindy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...now what’s going on over here?” She zoomed in on the corner with Carter.
He was chatting with someone out of frame, smiling, doing that thing where he rubbed his hair back and forth, and then...then she came into view. The person he was talking to. They were both dressed in all black, the woman with thick, dark hair much like Perdie’s, curvy. Pretty, definitely pretty even from a low-res video. The woman clasped both Carter’s hands, leaned in towards his ear, and they shared a laugh. The actions portrayed a special sense of intimacy Perdie had once herself been familiar with, there was no denying it.
A wealth of energized fire welled up inside her, inactive for months. Her anger, her spark, her passion had lain dormant until this very moment.
He was fucking dating? That motherfucker.
At the very least, he was hand-clasping. He and the woman appeared to like each other very, very much.
And he was moving back home. Like a light in a dark room, the video illuminated a terrifying truth.
Carter was moving to San Francisco for this new woman. Of course he would. It sounded unreasonable, but with Carter it made perfect sense. He’d moved to be with Perdie once too. He went after what he wanted. An unbridled optimist who was always dealt a lucky hand.
They would do all the things Perdie swore she could never do: move in together, share a closet, go to the grocery store. Juice those fucking oranges. The family Carter and his mothers wanted. A woman who wouldn’t disappoint.
Against her better judgment, she replayed the video, but this time instead of the dull pain eating her insides, furious anger enflamed her heart. Who was this woman? A knockoff Perdie Stone. Agh.
She scrunched her hair in her hands, ready to scream. And then it dawned on her. She needed to see him. Right now. Right fucking now.
Jacqueline’s voice twittered like a little bird in her ear: Take the risk. What’s the worst that can happen?
Thunder snapped hard outside.
Fuck it. She googled his address. How had she never even been to his house before? She really was selfish.
Her arms were numb as she shoved them through her wool coat to cover her mini sleep shorts and camisole-clad body. Her knees shook when she pushed her feet into Lucille’s fuzzy rabbit slippers. And before she left, she grabbed the extra key off the credenza and shoved it in her pocket.
The soft slipper material soaked instantly when Perdie’s feet hit the pavement of the parking lot.
Complete madness. Her actions would likely end in humiliating disaster.
But some risks were worth getting hurt for.
The four-thousand-square-foot colonial with a marsh view had an expansive driveway, and her windshield wipers fought overtime against the downpour as she neared. The vehicle slid on a diagonal when in haste she threw it into a lurching stop. She tumbled out, then sprinted.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She pounded the door with a wild intensity she had never used against a piece of wood before. Rain pelted her sideways, hair already plastered to her face and neck.
No answer.
She stepped back to view the windows. Fuck it.
“Carter!” she yelled. “Carter! Open the door! Open the fucking door!”
Rain drowned her out, and her skin slicked from the heavy, sopping coat. An internal countdown. One Carolina two Carolina three Caro—
A light illuminated a window. Then a few seconds and the door opened.
Perdie froze. The woman from the video stood before her.
The woman tightened the knot on her bright floral silk robe. Her raven hair was mussed but still better than Perdie’s on a good day. She really was pretty. Maybe Perdie was the knockoff?
But adrenaline compelled momentum. She’d made it this far, time to bust the yellow tape. “Ahem. Can I talk to Carter?”
“Who’re you?”
“A ghost come to life.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
Perdie’s voice caught in her throat as Carter appeared behind the woman. He was shirtless, somehow more muscular than she’d remembered, and god help her, in her heightened state even now he sent an extra thrill to her toes. But also terror. Shirtless with this other woman.
“Perdie?” He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing here? It’s two in the morning.”
She winced, futilely wiped at the slick skin on her cheek, then squeezed her eyes shut and let the words spew. “I only need forty-five seconds. Sixty tops. And if you won’t talk to me, then—then...” she sputtered. “I don’t even know what I’ll do. Have to go to therapy every single day? I’m already there three times a week.” Her eyes snapped back open, desperate.
Carter and the woman exchanged a concerned glance, but then he nodded. “Go to bed. I’ll take care of this.”
The woman’s features wrinkled, but then she shrugged and turned back into the house. “Say the word, and I’ll get the Taser.”
As soon as the door shut, Perdie blurted out, “Are you with that woman?”
Carter stepped beneath the protective overhang in front of the doorframe. Sprinkles of water decorated his eyelashes while Perdie stood drenched, uncovered.
“Give me your phone,” he ordered.
“Excuse me?”
“A timer. You’re lucky I’m giving you sixty seconds.” He held out his hand.
Perdie wasn’t used to this Carter. Stern Carter. Her jaw dropped at his audacity but in reality she was the audacious one turning up like a wet rat on his doorstep in the middle of the night, in the middle of a storm, in the middle of what might be a complete nervous breakdown. She dug into her sports bra and handed him the unlocked device.
“Lucille says you’re out of tampons.”
“Huh?” Was he making a joke?
But his stern expression remained, challenging. He tapped the screen a few times and held up the countdown display. “Well?”
She should’ve come prepared. A PowerPoint, maybe. Few index cards. But in the absence of a full TEDx speech, she’d have to speak from the heart. Shit. She stared blankly at that perfect face and those beautiful hazel eyes. They were smudged with dark shadows beneath. “Goddamn, you are so handsome.”
He shook his head. “Try again.”
She pointed her index finger with slow deliberation as truer words came to her. “But it’s not your looks that matter, looks fade, and... I...uhhh...okay, I fucked up. I’m a USDA grade A asshole. I freaked out and ran at the first sign of something real and it’s inexcusable because you’re amazing inside and out. There’re a million reasons why I want to be with you including but not limited to the fact that you’re handsome and amazing in bed.” She paused to redirect herself. “You’re also kind and funny and smart and were good with Bananas and I think Lucille would quite frankly love to put you in an oil painting. And you make me feel...you make me feel happy. Like a person deserving of a real relationship. The kind of relationship where you don’t cut and run at the first sign of conflict. The kind of relationship worth fighting for. Which, if we’re being honest, I don’t really know a good goddamn about. Fighting for something, that is. Pretty scary for a coward like me.”
When his Adam’s apple bobbed, she paused again, hoping he’d jump in and save her. Nope, keep going.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist, and she’s really got me on a self-reflection train...and...” She stuttered, the turbocharged energy with which she’d arrived dissipating.
The timer ticked on. “And?” he prompted.
“First stop: Apology Station...” She squeezed her palms until her nails dug into the flesh. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you. So much. I was wrong, about everything really.”
Carter pursed his lips, finally, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ve missed you too.”
“I want you, Carter. Back to the way we were. You and me. I won’t be a fuckup this time, I swear.”
Carter hung his head. “Do you think that’s what I want...to return to how things were? Keep playing the same old games?”
“Carter—” A loud boom exploded in the sky, and Perdie jerked, giving a little yelp. But before she could recover she was interrupted.
Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.
Both their gazes traveled to the screen and the zeroed-out timer.
“Time’s up.” He handed her the phone. “I think you should go.”
The inside of Perdie’s chest crumpled. Had she thought it would be so easy? No, Carter wanted more from her, he’d made that clear from the start. And that’s what she’d come with: more. And she was going to offer it up if it killed her, goddammit.
“You didn’t let me finish! Closing statements. Five more seconds. P-please.”
Carter crossed his arms, eyebrows lifted, as if to say well?
She dug inside her soaking coat pockets for a metal object and gestured for him to take it.
He held out his hand. “What’s this?”
“A key.” She placed it in his palm and clasped it to hers. Then she pressed his hand against her soaking chest, against her wildly thumping heart. Suddenly, she understood all those times when he’d done this to her. She understood what he meant. “Move in with me.”
She squeezed his hand. “I don’t want things to go back to the way things were. I want to move forward. With you. I want to wake up and see you every morning. I want to make up for the absolute mess I’ve made of the two of us.” This time, soreness tightened in her throat. Oh, fuck, she really loved him.
“Perdie...”
“Good risks, you know?”
Gently, he lowered their hands, near their waists between them. “Perdie. I can’t.”
Her brain searched for the right thing to say. “I’ll beg if I have to.”
She went to drop to her knees, but Carter caught her fast by the elbow, drawing her up. “Please don’t do that. I can’t stand to see you do that.”
Perdie sniffled, blankly staring up at him, her vision cleared. His hand fell away from her elbow. The loud rainstorm reduced to a quiet, misty drizzle.
Her head hung low. “Because I’m too late? Because you’re with someone else now?”
“Because I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Back home, I know,” she mumbled, defeated. “Where you belong.”
“Well...” He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh god, I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?”
“You’re not exactly batting a thousand.”
Her lip quivered a bit. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t watch sports.”
Then he reached out and curled his finger under her chin. “Hey, look at me.” His eyes had softened, not steeled as they had been before. “I quit the firm. Right after you, actually, the whole place went up in arms. Never thought I’d see Frank so scandalized. Considered moving back to San Francisco...lick my wounds somewhere comfortable...but then something strange happened.”
“You dreamt about me?”
“I ran into Aisha Wakely.”
“Not where I thought you were going with that. Aisha from Lowcountry Pro Bono Access? Tom’s wife?”
He nodded. “She offered me a job. Associate position. Terrible pay, tough work, lotta prostrating in front of donors...but a chance to contribute to the community. Use my skills for good.”
“Yeah, but what kind of person takes a downgrade like—”
“I accepted her offer.”
“You...you did?” Oh. Oh! “You’re staying here?”
“Well, almost. I told her there’s one thing I have to do first before I start work again.”
“Which is...”
“Climb Denali.”
Perdie shook her head, a bit amazed. “Wow, you’re actually going to climb that fucking mountain.”
“Been training for months. Had energy to burn without you around. Look, I figure now is as good as time as any. Instead of following the yellow brick road, I do what I actually want to do. For no one but myself.” That explained the extra muscles.
“But—but...what if you die? What if you don’t come back?”
“I won’t.”
“You won’t come back?”
“I won’t die.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I have something important to return to.”
Perdie gazed up from beneath her lashes. “Your new job?”
Carter shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and shrugged. “Well, there happens to be this woman who walked out on me and ruined my life not so long ago. She gave me the runaround and broke my heart and then showed up at the worst possible time on my doorstep soaking wet... I thought I’d give her another chance to ruin my life.”
Perdie’s throat tightened when his words registered. She couldn’t believe it. That her risk could pay off. That she was someone worth taking a risk on too.
A smile curled on her lips. “You’re a masochist. She sounds like a real bitch.”
“Understatement.” He pulled Perdie in beneath the overhang and smoothed the wet hair from her forehead. Her sagging wet coat clung to her shoulders. “But that’s what I love about her.”
“I love you too.” The words escaped quietly.
He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
“So, you’ll do it? Move in with me?”
His fingertips grazed her exposed upper back. “We’ll talk when I return, and we can discuss all the ways you’ll make things up to me. When we’ve both had time to think on it. No offense but you’re a little bit—” he tilted his head to regard her “—desperate right now.”
She whapped his chest. “Hey!”
He caught her hand and smiled. “To be honest with you, I can’t afford this huge house any longer. It’s going up for sale. Maybe the Porsche too.”
She gave him a sideways look. “Seems that the universe is telling us something.” Then she nestled her head against his chest, breathing in deep the familiar scent. “I’ll wait. Whatever it takes. But, Carter...who is that woman? She’s not your girlfriend?”
Carter squinted, confused. “Joanne? My sister-in-law. Joanne, Michael, and their kids are staying in the house while I’m away.”
Perdie’s hand slapped her forehead. “Of course it’s your sister-in-law! It’s always a sister of some kind... You’d think I’d learned a thing or two by now.”
“Carter?” As if on cue, Joanne’s voice came from behind the door. Had she been eavesdropping the whole time? “Do we finally get to meet your girlfriend or is she another one of your stalkers?”
The door opened and Michael stood with Joanne. They looked an awful lot like Carter and Perdie but...better.
OMG Carter and Perdie were the knockoff Michael and Joanne.
“Jesus, let her come inside, get her dried off. Mom would kill you if she knew you let her stand outside in the rain.”
Perdie pushed away from Carter, sadly attempting to straighten herself. “No, I can’t... I have to be somewhere first thing tomorrow. And besides, I’m completely mortified.”
Carter gave them a pointed look. “Sorry, guys, private matter.”
Michael went to protest but Joanne grabbed him by the biceps. “Michael, leave them alone. They want privacy.”
“Fine, fine, but at least I didn’t tell her she was running out of time like Mom,” Michael grumbled.
“Sorry for showing up in the middle of the night!” Perdie called after them as the door shut again.
Then it was just her and Carter and the silence that fell after the storm.
His hand sneaked inside her coat and he hooked a finger into the waistband of her shorts, drawing her close. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Okay, yep, I’m ready...” But she wasn’t, she would never be ready for big love like the kind Carter had to give. But being ready didn’t matter a damn bit. Because she wanted it anyway. All of it.
Carter’s lips met hers in a gentle caress, making her eyes flutter like butterflies.
He squeezed her wet, puffy, sopping body against his dry one.
“If you die on that mountain, I’ll kill you.”
He smiled, and kissed her again. “Fair enough.”