Page 44 of What Matters Most

As for his invitation to have her come and root for him in the canoe race, Carla was sure that the real reason was so she could meet his friends. And she didn’t need to be told that policemen usually socialized with other policemen. Her parents had few friends outside the force; the same undoubtedly held true for Philip. Friday was only a few days away, and finding someone willing to trade workdays would be difficult with half the staff scheduled for vacation time. It was a convenient excuse until she made up her mind what to do.

“Have you decided what you’re going to tell him?” Nancy asked Tuesday evening, as she carted her luggage into the living room. After her last date with Cliff, Nancy had returned convinced she knew what she was feeling for Eduardo. When he’d pressed the invitation for her to meet his family, she hadn’t hesitated.

“No,” Carla answered dismally. “I’m afraid that I’ll be dragged into his life little by little until we’re married and I don’t even know what happened.”

“I think Philip’s counting on that.”

“I know.” Carla nibbled on her bottom lip. Philip would be phoning later, and she still didn’t know what she was going to tell him. If she told him outright that she wouldn’t come, he’d accuse her of burying her head in the sand again. And he’d be right. But if she did agree, Carla realized that things would never be quite the same again. He had come to Seattle and invaded her world. He’d played checkers with Gramps and had dinner with her parents. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Inch by inch, he was entwining their lives until it would be impossible for her to escape.

A happy, excited Nancy had left for Mexico by the time Philip phoned. Carla stared at the phone for five long rings before she had the courage to answer.

“Hello.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t disguise her unhappiness.

“Carla, what’s wrong?” She wanted to cry at the gentle concern that coated his voice. “You aren’t coming,” he said, before she could answer.

“I…I don’t know. Friday’s a busy day at the hospital, and finding a replacement—”

“You don’t want to come,” he interrupted impatiently.

“It’s not that.” Carla leaned her hip against the counter and closed her eyes in defeat. “It’s too soon for this sort of thing. I don’t think I’m ready.”

“For a canoe race!” Carla could feel his anger reverberate through her cell.

“You said you’d give me time and then you immediately start pushing at me. You’re not playing fair, Philip Garrison. Don’t force me into something I’m not ready to deal with yet.”

“You mean to say you can’t handle a social outing with my friends?”

“I don’t know,” she cried.

An unnatural, tension-filled silence followed. Carla struggled for some assurance to give him and found none. Maybe Philip was seeking the same. A full minute passed, and neither spoke, yet neither was willing to break off the connection.

Carla heard Philip take a deep breath. “All right, I won’t push you. I said I’d be patient. When you decide if you’re going to come, call me.” From the tone of his voice, she knew that he was hurt and discouraged. “I’ll be out most of the week—practicing with the rest of the team.” Apparently, he wanted her to realize why he wouldn’t be available. “If you can’t reach me, I’ll be waiting at the B & B Root Beer Drive-In in Soap Lake from seven to nine Friday night. It’s on the main road going through town. You can’t miss it. If you don’t come, I’ll understand.”

“I’ll call you before then.” The lump in her throat made her voice sound tight.

“I’d appreciate that.”

Again there was silence, and again it was obvious neither of them wished to end the conversation.

“I…I have some good news about Nancy,” Carla said at last. “She’s flying to Mexico City to meet Eduardo’s family. From the way things have been progressing, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nancy returned wearing an engagement ring.”

“You could be, too,” Philip told her in a tight voice, and Carla regretted having said anything. It’d been a mistake to bring up the subject of Nancy and Eduardo in light of their own circumstances.

“I know.”

“But you’re not ready? Right?”

“Right,” Carla returned miserably.

The strained silence returned until Philip finally spoke, his voice devoid of anger. “Eduardo’s a good man.”

So are you, Carla mentally added.

“So you think Nancy may marry Eduardo?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Carla said, forcing an air of cheerfulness into her voice. “Nancy’s a lucky girl.” The second the words were out, Carla desperatelywanted to take them back. “Philip,” she said contritely, and swallowed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“The problem is, I believe it’s exactly what you mean. I’m not a good-looking Latin American who’s going to impress your friends.” His words were as cold as a blast of wind from the Arctic.

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