Page 14 of Something Borrowed

“Chicken clubs on kaisers.”

“Yum!”

“And salt and vinegar chips and chocolate cake.”

“Right! It’s Friday. Double treat lunch!” Carrie let out a happy sigh. “At least Mom raised one of us right.”

Cal’s spirits lifted a little. Despite the crappy breaks she’d had, Carrie never changed. She was still an eternal optimist and always found something to laugh about. There was a time when people would’ve said they had that in common, but Cal knew he’d changed. He hoped maybe not forever, but it had been two years since Melanie left, and if anything, he was getting more cynical, not less. Or maybe he’d just wised up. After all, how many failed relationships did a guy need before he realized he obviously had no skills in that arena? Or maybe he was just lonelier and resigned to it.

“What are you doing later?” he asked after polishing off his sandwich and rummaging through a closet for his thermal-lined rubber boots. It was past time for winter footwear, as his soaked hiking shoes had shown him. “Wanna grab pizza and watch a movie or something?”

Carrie winced, and her eyes went all apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Selina’s having a girls’ night—”

“Say no more. That’s great,” Cal said, meaning it, but also marveling. Women were so much better at the whole friendship thing. Carrie, even though she’d spent a solid twenty-five years away, already had a go-to crew of friends. And him? Well, he did have some solid buddies, and they had the odd poker night or whatever, but it wasn’t common. They were all coupled up, and their Friday night plans always reflected that.

“Will you be okay?”

“Of course.” Cal scoffed. “I just thought if you had nothing better to do, we could hang out.”

“You seem lonely.”

Ever the mind reader, his sis.

“Nah, I’m okay. I have my moments, but I’m good with my own company for the most part.”

“If you say so . . .” Carrie didn’t sound convinced. “What will you do?”

“I’ll have pizza with pineapple,” Cal said, naming a topping she hated but he loved. Then he grinned and spoke in feigned soprano, “And I’ll light candles and watch a movie, then I’ll have a long bath or something. You know . . . I’ll romanticize my life.”

Carrie smacked his arm, pretty hard, actually. “You really should, you know. It totally helps.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said.

On his way back to the van, Cal revisited Carrie’s accusation about Vic, but decided his rebuttal was true. He and Vic had barely exchanged a couple sentences. There was nothing to base like on. He felt bad for her, and that was it. He’d done enough work—he hoped—to have outgrown his lame white knight syndrome.

Later, workday finally done, Cal pulled into his driveway and killed his engine. He was just in time to watch the light—couldn’t really call it sun on this heavy gray day—fall behind the mountains in that quick-as-a-blink way it did this time of year. Just like that, darkness slipped over the distant mountains and trees like a quilt being drawn up, covering everything in a thick gray shadow. He sat a moment longer in his rapidly cooling van, watching the sky and taking in the cozy golden glow of various houses up and down the street. Then he sighed, climbed out of the vehicle, and walked toward his dark-windowed house.

One ham, pineapple, banana peppers, and onions pizza, an almost funny movie, and a long soak in the tub later (Sure, he’d teased Carrie, but she wasn’t wrong. Baths were lifesavers, and the Epsom salt she’d given him really did ease muscle aches), Cal figured he could let himself turn in without feeling too pathetic. All in all, it hadn’t been the worst night. And it was after 9:00. A perfectly respectable time to go to bed after working hard all day. Nothing to feel embarrassed or lame about.

He’d barely stripped down and pulled up the covers when his phone rang. No one called him this late—

“Hello?” he barked, panic ready to rise if needed. “Carrie?”

“I’m sorry,” came a thin voice he didn’t immediately recognize. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Chapter 10

The leaden sky matched Vic’s mood perfectly. What am I doing? she wondered yet again as she walked home Friday night after her fifth shift—if that’s even what she should call it. Community hours or something would be more accurate.

Yes, Madeline had welcomed her and trained her like she was a legitimate employee—and yet, she’d also been very clear that after Vic had worked the two weeks that Gwen was away, her debt would be more than covered. Vic wondered if that was because Madeline already wanted to be done with her. She wouldn’t blame her. It was strange to think that even if she stuck it out, she was already half done.

If she stuck it out.

Where had that thought come from?

It was two weeks of her life to restore her self-respect—or at least keep it from plummeting any further. She was going to stick with it, wasn’t she?

She was.