Part 19 (1/2)
A man in her house! Carrie screamed and peered around the shower curtain at the door.
”Great. Now I know you're awake,” he called from the hall.
It's Peter. Carrie groaned and straightened the curtain.
”You've got four minutes to get dressed and downstairs. When a master chef prepares your breakfast,
he doesn't want you to keep him waiting,” Peter announced. Carrie's eyes widened and then squeezed shut when the shampoo cascading off her hair stung them. She stuck her face under the spray of water and rinsed her hair as fast as she could. The water was barely turned off when she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off. She wrapped another around her dripping hair. In just three minutes flat, Carrie appeared in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a s.h.i.+rt. Her hair dripped onto her shoulders and her feet were bare. She stopped and stared at him. ”What are you doing here, Peter? How did you get in?” ”And a good morning to you, too,” he said as he poured two gla.s.ses of orange juice. ”Peter...” Carrie warned. ”Okay. One: I'm here because you promised to spend this weekend with me, and I'm trusting you're not the sort to go back on your promises. And two: Maddie gave me a key months ago in case there was a problem.” Carrie snapped her fingers. ”You used it before,” she accused, pointing at him. ”You let yourself into the house when I was in the master bedroom talking to Mary Ellen on the phone the morning Grandma died. I was so upset at the time, I forgot to ask how you'd gotten in the house even though I'd locked the doors.”
He handed her a gla.s.s of orange juice. ”Here. I found a can of concentrate in the freezer.” Without drinking any, she set her gla.s.s down on the counter. ”Peter, you can't just barge in here.” ”I know and I apologize, but I watched the house for over an hour and didn't see any signs that you were up. I acted impulsively.”
She shook her head. ”You're one of the most patient people I know.”
”No. I sure wasn't last night when I burst in here like King Kong. I apologize for that as well. I'm sorry I came on so strong. Give me twenty or thirty years and I might learn not to leap before I look carefully.”
He leaned down and kissed her lips firmly but quickly. She hadn't expected it so she couldn't avoid it,
but she wouldn't let the kiss sidetrack her either.
”No. Wait,” she said as he turned away.
”Oh, you want more?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye as he stepped toward her.
She had to smile. ”No, that's not what I meant and you know it,” she insisted as she backed up a step.
”I wanted to say that you shouldn't kiss me either.”
”Then I'll have to get my kiss back,” he concluded, taking another step toward her.
Carrie backed away again, pressing her hands against his chest. ”Oh, no you don't,” she said as sternly
as she could while laughing.
He shrugged as though it didn't matter much either way and went to the stove. ”Go sit down. Your breakfast is ready to eat.”
Carrie tamped down the disappointment that she felt. You can't have it both ways, she said to herself sternly as she sat at the place he had set. He proceeded to serve eggs benedict with fresh melon slices.
”I've got to say it. This is heavenly,” Carrie exclaimed, tasting the special meal.
”That's my line,” he joked, placing his own dish on the table and sitting down beside her.
There was little conversation while they ate the delicious meal. Carrie was just about to pour their
second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang.
”You go ahead and get that,” Peter told Carrie, taking the coffeepot from her. ”I'll pick up the dishes.”
She nodded. ”I can't imagine who could be at the door. I'll be right back.”
A tall, gray-haired woman carrying a briefcase stood at the front door. ”Ms. Whitmore?”
Carrie nodded.
”Good morning, I'm Annie Bishop. Your attorney gave me the listing for this house, and I've brought
you a purchase offer.”
”A purchase offer already?” Carrie opened the screen door to admit the woman.
”Yes, isn't it exciting? I don't often sell properties this fast, but this one sold the first day on the market.”
Carrie invited her into the living room to sit down. ”I didn't expect an offer so quickly,” she reiterated
numbly.
Annie took the sheets from her briefcase and handed them to Carrie. ”You just have to sign there at the bottom and on the copy I give back to the buyer.”
”The church?” she asked, turning in her seat and vaguely pointing toward the back of the house. ”The church bought it?”
”No, they declined. They thought it would be wonderful if their pastor could live here, but they just didn't think that they could go into so much more debt at this time. They just bought a new organ for the sanctuary, I heard.”
Carrie looked down at the papers, but her eyes couldn't focus with the excess moisture. ”But...”
”When the church declined, the house went on the open market according to the terms of the will. This buyer is offering you full-market value instead of the reduced price at which it was offered to the church. And he's willing to buy any furniture you don't take. That will be nice for you.”
”Yeah, that will be nice.” Carrie stared at the sheets of paper. Her tears still blurred the tiny black letters into a swirling jumble. She blinked rapidly.
”Here's a pen.” Annie handed the pen to Carrie who looked at it as if she didn't know how to use the thing. ”There's only one contingency on the buyer getting a loan, but that won't be a problem.”
”No?” Carrie asked.
”No. The buyer won't have a problem in this town. Isn't it wonderful living in a small town? The bankers know everyone and they rarely make a bad loan. There. You sign right there,” Annie prompted.
Carrie pointed the pen toward the dotted line, but the point wouldn't move any further. She looked up at Annie and then back down at the paper. She heard the tall grandfather's clock in the hall chime. She knew from the sounds coming from the kitchen that Peter was stacking their plates in the dishwasher. The refrigerator door opened and closed. She closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.
Looking back down at the line, she watched as all the dots ran back together and swam about. ”I... I'm sorry, but I can't do it now. I can't sign it so soon.”