So Alone Part 19

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."

"What? You can't turn down a full-price offer--not with the market the way it is today. You may not get another one. How many people are there who would want to invest in a small town like this one?"

Carrie swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. "I... I mean I just can't sign it now. I mean I have to think about it. I really don't have to sign it this minute, do I? How long is the offer good for?

Annie looked at the sheet and back at Carrie. "Ah, well," she hedged. "As a matter of fact, it's good for only thirty-six hours, Ms. Whitmore. You will have to decide by ten o'clock tomorrow night."

Carrie took a deep steadying breath. "Fine. I'll sign it by then. I'm leaving for home the next morning anyway. I'm really sorry. I just can't handle this at the moment."

"I suppose with your grandmother's death and all, it is a lot to grasp all at once. But believe me, you don't want to let this offer lapse."

Annie took her pen back and popped it into her briefcase before snapping it shut. "Shall I call you this afternoon to see if you've decided?"

"Ah, no. Please. I'll call you when the time comes."

With a trembling hand, Carrie took the card that Annie offered her with her name and phone number.

"You really should sign it right away, Ms. Whitmore. You may never get another offer for the house that's this good and you certainly won't get another one this quickly."

Carrie thanked her and showed her to the door. Staring at the card and purchase offer still in her hands, she waited until Annie had pulled away. She glanced at the buyer's name. "P. David..." The last name was unfamiliar. She wasn't even sure how to p.r.o.nounce it. She dropped her hands to her sides and walked back to the kitchen.

Chapter Sixteen.

Peter was was.h.i.+ng the double boiler he'd used to make the hollandaise sauce. That task, rather than selling the house, was something Carrie felt more comfortable with at the moment. She dropped the papers on the counter and quickened her steps to his side.

"I'll do that, Peter," Carrie said. "You probably heard, that was a realtor with a purchase offer on this house."

"Congratulations. That's just what you wanted to do, wasn't it? Sell the old place and get out of town fast?" he asked softly as he dried his hands.

"Yeah, I thought it was." Funny how it didn't feel right at the moment. She'd thought the house would be on the market for months. She never expected to get an offer so soon.

Nonetheless, she had. That had to mean that leaving was the right thing to do, didn't it? Leaving was working out so easily for her.

"Then I wonder why you don't look very happy," he said as he gently turned her to face him and wrapped his comforting arms around her.

This is Peter. The man I must leave, she thought as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him. "I guess I am pretty miserable considering everything is working out the way I want."

"I love you so much, Carolyn. I need you. You can't leave Sunville," he whispered breathlessly against her temple.

A chill began to settle over her. What was she doing? Why couldn't she stay away from him when she knew she should for both their sakes? "You shouldn't, Peter. You can't love me," she pleaded as she drew away from him.

"But I do, Carolyn. I do. And as I see it, I have just over two days to convince you to stay here with me." He sighed and stepped toward the door. "Unfortunately, I have to spend much of today at the office for meetings."

"Thanks for breakfast," she said instead.

"You're welcome." He looked at his watch. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

"Pick me up? For what?"

"Dinner. You've got to eat."

"Well, you fixed my breakfast. The least I can do is fix your dinner." From the grin on his face, she had the distinct feeling she'd been snookered into that one.

"Great," he announced with his usual rejoinder. "In that case, I'll be here at six. Are we to be in fancy dress for dinner?"

"I don't think so. After the dishes are done, you can help me load my car with Grandma's things to give to a clothing drive."

"I shall look forward to it," he said with a sweeping bow.

"I'll bet."

He laughed as he ran across the lawns to the church.

Carrie turned back to look around the kitchen. The purchase offer caught her eye where it sat on the counter with Annie's card. Carrie turned the sheet and read the name again. She sighed and wondered who it was. Since Ralph had died, she'd made it a point to visit Sunville only to see Maddie, avoiding people she knew would ask about what had happened to Ralph. They all blamed her and they didn't even know about the letter she'd written that had shoved him over the edge. Thankfully, it hadn't even been mentioned in the inquest after his death. She still couldn't stand to see the accusations in their faces. As a result, she'd met few new people over the years. Of course, the buyer didn't have to be from Sunville. He could be moving from somewhere else. Maybe someone had already come to see Maddie about buying the house. Maybe they had decided the place would... would what?

Her hands on her hips, Carrie walked to the living room, mentally a.n.a.lyzing each room of the huge house. The house was easily big enough for a large family. It had been very well cared for. The offer said the buyer wanted all the furnis.h.i.+ngs she didn't take, and many were beautiful antiques. Maybe someone would want it for a museum, but it didn't seem that Sunville would have the population base to support that venture.

She walked up the stairs, trailing her fingers along the carved banister railing, and paused at the top. So many bedrooms, but just one bath upstairs for four of them. The rooms were large, though. She conjectured that a well-designed small bath could be built into at least one of them without sacrificing too much s.p.a.ce. Then what?

Then it would make a nice bed and breakfast! Why not?

A Victorian bed and breakfast. Her mind filled with related facts. The height of the ceiling would be high enough to contain a sprinkler system; the far bedrooms were over the wrap-around front porch so fire escapes could be added easily for each room. And the master bedroom could be the honeymoon suite.

Carrie directed her steps down the hall to look into the master bedroom. A bed and breakfast seemed like a good idea, a way to earn some money. In fact, with a part time job she could afford to stay and live in the house.

What was she thinking? Open her home to strangers? And how many tourists were there in Sunville? In the winter? None. She'd felt so excited at first. No, it would be better to sell it and never see it again.

"Oh, show me what to do," she pleaded aloud. Or was she praying? Why would she be asking G.o.d to help her decide what to do? She'd prayed and prayed for guidance when she was having trouble in her relations.h.i.+p with Ralph, and look what happened.

At that moment, the only thing Carrie was sure of was that she wasn't sure of anything!

Except Peter. Carrie was very certain she loved Peter. But how could she love him and plan to spend her life away from him?

"There, that's the last of them."

Peter slammed down the lid the hatchback on his car late Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Carrie had seriously underestimated the time it would take to sort and remove the boxes and bags of Maddie's clothes and things for the charity drive.