Page 92 of An Unexpected Love

After years of telling herself that Tom had used her inadequacies as an excuse for adultery, years of struggling to repair her self-esteem, Charlotte gave up. Surrendered. She bought it all. The reassurances she tried to offer herself were empty. Null and void.

Everything Tom had said was true. She was a failure as a woman. A failure as a wife. No man would ever besatisfied with her. Not for long. Tom hadn’t been and Jason wouldn’t be, either. She might as well accept that now and stop fighting the inevitable.

* * *

The doorbell chimed just as Jason finished reading the latest issue of one of the veterinary periodicals he subscribed to.

“Yeah?” he said, opening the door, half expecting one of his tenants.

“Hi,” Carrie said, striding purposefully into his apartment. “Have you got a minute to talk?”

“Sure.” Jason led the way into the living room and sat down. Carrie started to pace in front of his television, hands behind her back. Walking in his apartment was dangerous with the week’s worth of newspapers spread across the carpet.

“Is it Higgins?” he prompted, when she didn’t speak right away.

She shook her head, eyes lighting up. “Higgins is doing great. He’s eating and everything. I think he likes it with Mom and me.”

“I’m sure he does.” They’d lavished the dog with love and attention from the moment Jason had carried him into their apartment on Monday afternoon. One would’ve thought the mutt was some kind of hero. In a way he was, Jason decided. If it hadn’t been for the dog, Jason didn’t know how long it would have taken him and Charlotte to connect.

“What can I do for you?”

“It’s Mom,” Carrie said.

“What about your mother?” He saw that tears had pooled in Carrie’s eyes, and she wasn’t trying to hide the fact. Like most men, Jason was uncomfortable when awoman started to cry. No matter what the cause, he felt personally responsible. And he felt an overpowering urge to do whatever he could to rectify the problem.

He certainly felt that way with Charlotte—even more so. She’d look at him with her beautiful blue eyes and the instant he saw the slightest hint of tears, he’d be putty in her hands. He was putty in her hands, anyway, tears or not, but that was because it was Charlotte.

“My mother’s ruining my life,” Carrie was saying.

Jason was no psychiatrist, but he wasn’t completely obtuse. “Does this have something to do with that dance?”

Carrie nodded. “There’s this boy…his name’s Brad. He’s the cutest boy in class and the star of the track team. Every girl in school’s crazy about him and he askedme.Me,” she emphasized again, bringing her hand to her heart. “He asked me to the ninth-grade dance. When I talked to Mom, she said I could go, but when I said Brad’s father was picking us up and…and driving us there, she went totally weird on me.”

“I’m sure your mother has a good reason for feeling the way she does.”

“She won’t even talk about it.”

“Carrie, listen. I’d like to help, but this is between you and your mother. I can’t interfere with a parenting decision.”

Carrie nodded, her throat working as she struggled not to cry. “I don’t expect you to interfere… I was hoping that you’d help me—tell me what to say to make Mom understand how old-fashioned she’s being. I haven’t said anything to Brad about my mom not wanting me to be in the same car as him and his dad and…and the dance is next Friday night. There isn’t much time left.”

Jason rubbed the side of his face. “What’s your mother’s primary objection?”

“She thinks driving with him makes it a real date. And I’m not allowed todateuntil next year.”

“I see. What if she drove you and Brad to the dance?”

“That won’t work, either…. Everyone will think I asked him and…it might be silly, but I want Suzie Jennings to know otherwise.” She wiped her eyes and took a moment to regain her composure.

“How about if Brad’s dad drops you off and your mother picks the two of you up after the dance?”

Carrie dropped her hands to her side. “Picks us up?” she repeated thoughtfully.

“It wouldn’t be considered a date then, would it? The two of you obviously need to be driven to and from the dance and this would simply be a means of transporting you.”

“There’s a party at Amanda Emerich’s house right afterward, but it’s directly across the street from the school and everyone’s invited.”

“I have an even better idea,” Jason said enthusiastically. At Carrie’s blank stare, he explained. “How about if your mother offered to chaperone the dance?”

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