“It’s new, and that’s probably why it feels weird.”
She exhaled. “That’s a good word for it, weird. And who knows if it will even happen? They could scrap the whole idea. Maybe I’ll be stuck in this house forever until I spend every last dime I have and get a job as a bartender somewhere and listen to other people’s troubles.”
“Somehow I don’t see that as your path,” I said with a laugh, trying to keep things light.
“You never know. I’m just warning you of a possible detour now.”
The night after that one, I came home to find her irate at a tray of chicken breasts. She’d told me not to eat a full meal, so I’d abstained from anything more than a bag of chips. I stared at the series of bowls and pans that lined the countertops. It looked like a late-night flour bomb had hit the room with aggression.
“Don’t eat those,” she said, pointing at what looked to be perfectly cooked chicken breasts along with some sort of brown sauce. “They’re horrible and don’t represent me. I was trying a new recipe, and it’s an epic loss.” She sighed loudly, a defeated hand to her hip. “I wanted to pamper you with a nice dinner when you got home, but I can’t seem to do that right, either.” She tossed a pan into the sink with a clang.
I winced. “Either?”
“Just not a ton of life successes these days,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, signaling that she’d had a time of it tonight. She gestured to me. “You look great, though. I hope your day was good. Was it?”
“It was. And thank you.” I glanced down at my on-air attire. A dark green dress, silver necklace, and heels. “One of my new outfits. The consultants like the color on me.”
“Because it’s gorgeous. You are. Hi.” She came to me and kissed me hello, and I went to warm putty. Best part of my day so far, and it had already been a good one. “I’m sorry I don’t look half as good.”
“What are you talking about? You’re beyond attractive.” How could she not know that? Even in this moment, she amazed me with her God-given beauty. “And don’t worry about the chicken.”
“Trying not to, but what are you going to eat?”
I pulled out a pot and deposited it on the stove. “Hot, buttery popcorn with a side of spiced rum. Solved.”
She smiled but her eyes were watery. “Good. Yes. I just want you to be happy.” She stared at the floor in pause. “I’ll be right back.” She held up one finger and disappeared into the bedroom. I had a nagging feeling she’d taken a moment to gather herself. When she returned, she was smiling, noticeably lighter on her feet, and eager to hear all about my day. While admirable, I didn’t want her to bypass her own feelings.
“Carrie. It’s okay to have a hard day and let yourself feel that.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s the best course of action to right my tilting ship.” She squeezed my hand as she passed, grabbing the oil, clearly intent on making the popcorn for me. “You, however, do the opposite, Sky, and make everything better.”
I came up behind her as she poured the kernels into the pot with a rat-a-tat and wrapped my arms around her, savoring the connection I’d missed all day. “It’s crazy, and you’re literally not going to believe this, but I feel the same about you. I missed you today. We’re twins.” I’d give anything to have her back at work with me. Things weren’t the same, regardless of my newfound status. I kissed a path up her neck, prompting her to pause what she was doing and lean back against me, allowing me to hold her in silence. We stayed like that for a little while, and the world seemed to settle and slow.
But when Kristin asked, I decided to level about how things had been going outside work. She had become a fantastic sounding board. “I think Carrie’s floundering. Trying to find her new place in the world, and it’s not clicking.”
“Huh.” Her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I was hopeful she’d take this new freedom and run with it. She’s going to land on her feet. We all know that.”
I smiled ruefully. “Everyone but her, it seems.”
“Give her time.”
“I definitely will.”
Carrie and I made love that night and it was absolute perfection. I held her close, tight, in awe once again at how perfectly we fit together in the bedroom. I traced her skin, kissed her fingertips, luxuriated in her. It was after three before we drifted off with me stroking her hair softly, lifting it, and letting it drop. When I heard the heavy, rhythmic breaths of sleep, I allowed myself to drift as well.
Chapter Eighteen
It was late in the day on Saturday when my phone buzzed with a text. I was standing on a stepladder in my kitchen changing out a light bulb like the responsible renter that I was. Carrie. I smiled to myself. Something’s come up. Do you have time to talk? I stared at the message. I’d stayed at her place the night before but was home for laundry, cleaning, and reorganization for the upcoming week.
I immediately called her back. “Hey. What’s up?”
“So, here goes.” She didn’t delay and launched in, talking fast. “It’s the Seattle thing. They called Corey and they want to make it happen. Officially.”
I frowned and began walking the length of my small living room. “Who is they? What do you mean?”
“WBAA in Seattle wants me to anchor evenings, and they’re extending an official offer. We’ve glimpsed the details, Skyler, and they’re…impressive.” She laughed nervously. “I don’t even know what to say about it. I just didn’t expect them to actually follow through. Those things are so often just a lot of talk, and then they hire the new fresh face, you know? That’s what I expected. Probably Corey, too.”
She was animated. The excitement in her voice inspired both happiness and terror in mine. “Okay, well, let’s think this through.” I was being conservatively supportive but didn’t want to think anything through. Seattle could find someone else, and she should tell them that. Now. But at the same time, if this was something Carrie wanted, could I live with myself if I stood in her way. “What are the pros and cons?” How was this real?
“Well, we’d be apart if I took it. That’s a definite con. I can’t even imagine that.” She was actually considering this. Leaving me. It was like being hit with a two-by-four. “A pro would be a second chance in a more prestigious market. I’d feel like myself again and get back to doing what I love. Erase the failure.” I didn’t say anything. Her voice got soft. “It’s been hard, Skyler. You know that.”
“I know.” I’d seen it firsthand and would love to see her happy again, thriving. This job seemed to be what she wanted. I wanted her to want me, though. I stared at the ceiling and said the one thing I knew to be true. “I love you Carrie. I love us.”