“Really?” Kayla was sitting on the edge of her bed, her blue eyes big and hopeful.
“Yeah. I’ll leave a note for your dad.”
Kayla was obviously thrilled by that decision. She stuffed a few things in a bag that she’d need for the night, and they were out of the messy house in less than five minutes. They stopped at a drive-through and got Kayla some chicken tenders and fries. When they got to Ruth’s place, Kayla took a long bath and then went to bed on the couch, which Ruth had made up with sheets, pillows, and blankets.
It didn’t take long for Kayla to fall asleep afterward.
Ruth sat in a chair and watched her stepsister for a long time in the dark, trying to decide what to do. It wasn’t like she could report Brent for neglect. Kayla wasn’t abused—either verbally or physically. Brent did provide food for Kayla and ensure she went to school and was generally safe from harm.
He just didn’t think about her—about how his lifestyle affected her. He had no idea how hard it would be for a sensitive sixteen-year-old girl to live in that pigsty.
It wasn’t like Kayla would be allowed to move in with Ruth. Ruth didn’t have a room for her in her tiny apartment, and she was barely scraping by as it was. The new clients Carter had rounded up for her had helped a lot, but there wasn’t a wide margin of profit in interior design. Ruth couldn’t afford a house or even a bigger apartment. Not yet. And Brent probably wouldn’t let his daughter go live with someone else anyway.
Ruth hated it. Not knowing what to do. Not really being able to do much of anything. Of feeling responsible but not capable.
She was eventually so upset that she had to do something. Her first instinct was to call Carter. To tell him about it and see what he said. Hear his advice. At least get some encouragement, which she knew she’d receive from him. She actually had her phone in her hand and his number pulled up before she changed her mind.
They didn’t have that kind of relationship. She had no right to bug him with her personal crises.
Instead, Ruth left Kayla a note in case she woke up and then drove back over to Brent’s house. It was still empty. So Ruth went in and started to clean it so when Kayla came back tomorrow it wouldn’t be such a disgusting mess.
THE NEXT WEEK WASN’T all that great. Ruth was slammed with work since she’d taken on too many jobs all at once and felt guilty about delaying any of them. She also made a point of spending more time with Kayla, which took up nearly all her free time. Carter was really busy with work too, so the only time she saw him was a lunch they had on Wednesday.
The fun she’d had with Carter the previous weekend was starting to feel like a dream. Pleasant but blurred around the edges. Not reflecting reality. Gradually slipping through her fingers.
So Ruth wasn’t sure what to expect from the Saturday evening date they’d planned, during which she knew Carter would propose to her. He still wouldn’t tell her how he was planning to do it, which for some reason was driving her crazy.
Enough about her life was out of her control. She didn’t need to feel out of control in this plot with Carter as well.
They were going to Milhouse, the bar where Lincoln worked. It made sense if Carter wanted to do a big, showy production of the proposal to have it in a familiar place where a lot of people he knew tended to hang out on weekends. The first thing Ruth noticed on entering the bar was a big Christmas tree set up near the upright piano that was hardly ever used. They’d also hung garland and twinkly lights.
“Wow,” she said. “Is it time for Christmas decorations already?” It was the weekend before Thanksgiving. Definitely in the season for stores to bring out their Christmas stuff, but she didn’t remember Milhouse putting up the holiday decor until December in previous years.
Carter blinked as he looked around, like he was just noticing. “Oh. Yeah. Lincoln was complaining the other day about them doing it so early. Who knows? Oh look, Meg and Gary are about to leave. Why don’t you grab their table, and I’ll get us something to drink?”
“Okay.” Ruth went over to the couple Carter pointed toward—he seemed to know almost everyone in Green Valley—and waited politely for them to vacate their table. They obviously knew she was waiting since the man held out a chair for her and the woman giggled something about how she hoped Ruth would have a good evening.
Carter came over shortly with a glass of merlot for Ruth and a scotch for himself.
“Well?” Ruth said, when he took his seat across the small table from her.
“Well what?”
“Is something going to happen?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve got it under control.”
“Really? Because it’s making me kind of jittery to wait and not know what’s going to happen. You can get on with it any time.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll get on with it at the appropriate time. Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of bossy?”
“Yes. I’ve been called bossy all my life. But that’s just because people are intimidated by the fact that I can make things happen and they can’t.”
He laughed at that, as she’d expected. “I can make plenty of things happen.”
“Really? Because I haven’t seen any sign of it tonight. You’re not going to chicken out, are you?”
“No,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “I’m not going to chicken out.”
“Because I know for someone as buttoned-up as you, it won’t be easy to be big and dramatic.” She was teasing him on purpose because she liked how he responded. He acted all annoyed and indignant when she could see him laughing on the inside.
“I can be just as big and dramatic as anyone else. Just wait.”
“I’ve been waiting for a while now.”
“You’ve been waiting for exactly five minutes. Try a little patience.”
“I’m not exactly a fan of patience.”
He laughed, his eyes resting on her face with a warm softness that felt like a caress.
She couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her like that before. Either he was a really good actor or he was genuinely having a good time with her.
She hoped he was.
She fidgeted as she sipped her wine, irrationally nervous about the coming proposal. That was silly. There was nothing to be anxious about. She knew Carter was going to propose, and she knew she was going to say yes. She knew the engagement would last until after Christmas, which as the decorations surrounding them proved, wasn’t all that far away. And she knew that after that they’d break up amicably and go on with their lives.
She knew all that. She and Carter had it planned. There was nothing unknown there, except the exact way Carter was going to propose. And that... well, that didn’t really matter. She didn’t need to be nervous.
But she was. She drank her wine for fortification and waited.
Five minutes later, she glanced over to the entrance and saw a familiar face. “Oh look. Savannah.”
Savannah was a clever, attractive woman in her early thirties and the reason that Carter and Ruth had been set up to begin with. She saw Ruth waving and gave her a big smile, dragging her husband over to say hello.
Carter stood up to greet Lance Carlyle, who Ruth knew had been his friend since elementary school. Ruth had never met Lance before although she’d seen him around. He was very good-looking in his fitted black T-shirt and tailored trousers, but not in a classically handsome way like Carter. He had freckles that blended into his tan and thick, curly hair that was always flopping over his forehead. He had a really nice smile though, and he aimed it now at Ruth as they said hello to each other.