Out Of Love Part 23

"You don't like men either. Do you, Prissy?"

Cathy took a gla.s.s of wine from Priscilla and sat at the end of the L-shaped leather sofa. "When you said you wanted a girls'

night, I figured that meant you were fed up with Geoffrey.

What's he done?"

"Just the same old, same old. I was so jealous when I talked to Carmen in New York and heard all of you were going out. I wanted to be there too."

Priscilla joined them in the living room and sat next to Cathy.

"You were there . . . in spirit, anyway. At least it seemed like that to all of us."

Carmen shot Cathy and Priscilla a stern look as they chuckled.

"I left Roger at home doing laundry," Priscilla said, patting the couch so her namesake would join her.

"All the men at my house were watching the basketball tour-nament. They didn't mind me coming over here, but Hank nearly threw himself under the wheels of the car when he saw me 158 trying to leave with the cheesecake."

"You brought cheesecake?" Priscilla's face lit up.

Cathy looked away sheepishly. "No, I left it with them."

"You're such a sucker!" Brooke squealed.

"They were pitiful. What if one of them had starved while I was gone? I would have felt terrible."

As Carmen sank onto the couch, she thought she noticed Brooke wiping a tear. "You okay?"

Brooke nodded hastily. "Just something in my eye. I'll go see about it." She jumped up and disappeared into the bathroom, not the guest bath in the hallway, but Carmen's bath in the master suite. Carmen liked that Brooke felt completely at home.

The three women sat silently until Brooke joined them again.

"It was an eyelash. It's okay now."

"So how do you like your new job, Brooke?"

"It's fantastic!"

Carmen went into the kitchen to put the bread in the oven.

"Why don't you tell us about it while we eat all this delicious food that isn't cheesecake?"

For the next two hours, the four friends ate, laughed and talked, all reveling in their conspiratorial freedom from men.

Even Prissy celebrated, secretly scoring pieces of mozzarella cheese from each of the visitors. When the food was gone, they retreated to the living room for coffee, which Carmen splashed with Bailey's since they didn't have dessert.

"I guess I should be getting home," Cathy announced. "That cheesecake will be gone by now and they'll all be starving again."

"Me too," Priscilla said. "I have to get to bed early. I have a seven o'clock breakfast with His Honor to go over his top secret ideas for bidding on the Olympics."

"You must mean the Winter Olympics, right?" Carmen asked, feigning innocence.

"Can't you see them bobsledding at the Eisenhower inter-change?" Cathy quipped on her way into the guest bedroom to 159 get their coats.

"You guys are funny. I'll be sure to share your thoughts."

"I'm glad you could make it over. We don't get to do this often enough," Carmen said, slinging her arm around Brooke's shoulder.

"We could do it again next weekend if you're free," Priscilla said, undoubtedly knowing it would get a rise out of Carmen.

"Oh, never mind. I think I promised Roger we'd go to The Dells."

Cathy returned to distribute their coats, but Brooke tossed hers over the couch. "I'm not quite ready to go, unless you need me to."

"No, you can stay." All evening, Carmen had felt as if something was bothering Brooke. Now that the others were leaving, she would encourage her to talk about it.

"Cathy, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You have a conference call at eight thirty and another at nine fifteen."

"Great way to start a Monday." She held the front door as Priscilla followed Cathy out. "And you be sure to give His Honor my warmest regards."

"Should I tell him you think he's an a.s.shole?"

"Sure, why not?" She closed the door behind her friends and turned to face Brooke, who looked as if she was on the verge of tears. "What's up with you? Is something wrong?"

Brooke suddenly wrapped her arms around Carmen's neck and began to sob.

"Brooke?" Carmen held her for several minutes while she cried, gently stroking her back and swaying slightly to soothe her. "Let's go sit down."

She led Brooke to the couch and let go of her.

"No, sit beside me."

"I will. Do you need anything? Do you want something to drink?"

160.

Brooke shook her head.

One by one, Carmen turned out the lights in her apartment until they were in total darkness. Then she flipped a switch to turn on the gas log fireplace. In their thirty years as friends, this was how they talked, how Carmen rendered comfort. To her, the quiet repose was as intimate as s.e.x, and the darkness helped hide her face from revealing her true feelings.

"Okay, now tell me what's wrong." She returned to Brooke's side and pulled her close. "Is it Geoffrey?"

"No . . . yes . . . G.o.d, I feel like such an idiot." She pushed away new tears. "Why did I ever marry him?"

"You loved him. I remember how you felt, how happy you were."

"Why didn't we just leave well enough alone? I would have been so much happier living with you and going over to his place for s.e.x. That's when I loved him most, when we didn't have to try so hard to get along all G.o.dd.a.m.n day. And it's when he loved me too."

"But that wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to build a life together. You couldn't do that living with me." And Carmen couldn't have endured all those nights alone knowing Brooke was with Geoffrey.

"I can't seem to build a life with anybody, Carmen. I f.u.c.ked up with Anthony and now I'm f.u.c.king up with Geoffrey. What is it about me that turns men into cold-hearted b.a.s.t.a.r.ds?"

"You didn't do that to Anthony. He had to be born that way to be so good at it."

"But Geoffrey used to be such a nice guy. We used to laugh and make love all day."

Carmen hoped this wasn't going to turn into another conversation about Brooke and Geoffrey f.u.c.king. "Why don't you laugh now?"

"Because nothing's ever funny. It's all just pathetic." She leaned into Carmen's arms and sighed. "When Cathy said that 161 about leaving her stupid cheesecake with Hank, it just made me cry. I can't imagine what it would feel like to love Geoffrey that much."

Carmen wished she would leave Geoffrey once and for all. It was obvious he didn't come close to giving her the kind of love she needed. He was too selfish, too wrapped up in his own needs.

But she couldn't be the one to say that. Brooke would have to take that step on her own. "You two need to talk to somebody. If he won't go, then you'll have to go by yourself."

"Can't I just talk to you?"

"You know you can. But I can't help you."

"I don't know if I even want help anymore. Sometimes I think I just don't want to be married, not ever again."

Carmen tilted her head to rest against Brooke's. Her heart was filled with love and concern, and her arms ached to offer protection from that which caused her beloved friend pain.

Brooke Healey had known enough pain in her life.

"Let's do something next weekend," Brooke said. "What if I pick you up on Sat.u.r.day and take you on a tour of all the places I've decorated for the realtors? I'd love for you to see my work.

You're the only one who really cares about it."

"We all care about it. Didn't you see how excited Cathy and Priscilla were when you were telling us?"

"I know they were interested. But that's not the same as caring about it like you do. That's why I want you to see it."

"I can't. I'm busy next weekend." It wasn't unusual for her to be busy with her work or her family, so she hoped Brooke would simply accept her vague excuse.

"Are you working? We could do it Sunday."

"I'm having company, someone from New York."

"Sofia?"

"No." Why was Brooke so interested in her personal life all of a sudden? "A woman I met at the convention last month."

Brooke sat up straight and turned to face her. "You're seeing 162 someone? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We just met a month ago, that weekend I went for the convention."

"Did you see her again when you went back?"

Getting the third degree from Brooke was unusual. "Yeah, we had dinner and went to a show."

Brooke's face took on a confused look and she slumped against the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised you like somebody enough to invite her here for a weekend, but you don't tell your friends about it. What's with that?"

"We just started seeing each other." Carmen could almost feel her insides roiling. Hiding the truth about Judith from Brooke betrayed both of them. "Not everybody I go out with is lucky enough to meet my friends."

"And I'm not letting you fall for just anybody. She better be something special if she wants my seal of approval."

163.

Chapter 13.

"Hold on . . . almost ready." Carmen juggled a cardboard box filled with groceries, shifting it to one hip as she slipped her key into the lock. Prissy whimpered impatiently, tearing through the door as soon as it cracked open. Carmen dropped the leash and caught the falling box. "Thanks for your all your help," she said sarcastically.

She lugged the box into the kitchen and dropped it on the counter-all the ingredients for a romantic candlelight dinner, something she hadn't orchestrated in over a dozen years.

So what was it about Judith O'Shea that had her obsessed with pulling off the perfect evening? Considering where they had left things in New York, this seduction scene probably wasn't even necessary. A h.e.l.lo kiss would probably send them straight to the bedroom. But she didn't want a night like the one Raul had interrupted at the hotel. She was adding the romantic ele-164 ment to officially undo that clumsy start, to recast their relationship as more than just a fling.

Ironically, that was Brooke's doing, because it made her think all week about what she wanted from Judith. All along, they had talked about being themselves, and Judith had shown her personal side in New York. Carmen needed to do that too.

"Please be good this weekend, Prissy. Mommy likes Judith very much and we want her to like us so she'll come back and see us again."

She got out the cutting board and cleaver to prepare the chicken. It needed to marinate for two hours, and that would put it just about right for Judith's arrival. By the clock on the stove, she would be getting to the airport in New York soon.

Unable to resist, Carmen plucked her cell phone from her purse and dialed the familiar number. It was answered after only two rings. "I hope you're in a taxi . . . No, a bus isn't sort of a taxi.

I can't believe you'd endure all of that, especially dragging a suitcase." She hadn't thought fast enough to keep from saying that.

It made her sound sn.o.bbish to suggest that only a fool would take ma.s.s transit. Judith did it all the time, as did millions of other people in New York. "You're welcome. I know you would have been fine in coach, but I wanted you to be relaxed when you got here. And I'm sending a car for you so you won't have to worry about a thing on this end . . . Because I'll be here cooking you a wonderful dinner, so don't eat on the plane. Mine will be better, I promise . . . Besides, I don't drive much. People tell me I'm not very good at it."

Judith's laugh brought an instant smile to Carmen's face.

That's what she wanted for the weekend, a chance for them to relax and enjoy each other's company. Among other things.

Prissy began to bark at a bird on the rail of the balcony.