even worse he couldn’t remember any of what he’d just seen, when Charisma brought him a cup of steaming tea and a cookie that had just recently come out of a wrapper. “It’s all I have,” she murmured as she shoved the cookie and tea in his direction.
He grunted and took the mug and cookie. “Thanks.” The cookie was stale and crunched uncomfortably, but he swallowed hard and took another bite because she had resumed her hawk-like perch on the edge of the chair and was staring. Hard. And unashamedly. He finally tore his eyes away from hers, suddenly disturbed. If he all of a sudden heard the theme music for the Twilight Zone, he wouldn’t be surprised. In fact, nothing normal had happened since he’d returned to Carlton. He took a swig of the tea, burning his tongue and wishing it was laced with a little something extra. Something that might ease the throb in his head and the unsettling feeling that had crept up on him. When he had finished the cup of tea he placed it down on the coffee table, the ceramic thumping against the wood and disturbing the heavy silence. He brushed his hands on his jeans and went to speak.
“I know this is a lot to ask,” she said before he could say anything at all, “but I’m really worried about Scruffy and I just don’t know what I would do if she started … acting unwell again. Would it be possible … I mean, could you stay for just a while in case she isn’t really better? Maybe she’ll … I don’t know, relapse?”
Any other person he would have told no. Especially since Scruffy was stretched out in the corner of the room, snoring like a small train, and seemed completely healthy. But then Charisma turned her big doe eyes on him and they were wide and concerned and honest and so he sighed – a deep sigh that seemed to cleanse himself of the disquiet that had settled around the pair as they sat in the living room. “Sure, not a problem.” A slow smile spread across his face, and she sat back in her chair for the first time since he’d walked in the door, and exhaled slowly.
“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” She smiled, one of her rare, full-blown, beautiful smiles. Jared was surprised he hadn’t noticed she was so attractive before. What was more alarming was that he was suddenly finding her attractive. Just as suddenly staying with Charisma a little while longer stopped being a chore and morphed into something that could be enjoyable. There was a pause in the conversation, for the first time not heavy and dragging, but pleasant and airy. “I heard you’d been out of Carlton for a while. What made you come back?” She dropped her head back against the chair, her hair falling back and exposing the slender slope of throat that ended in collarbone and more pearly skin.
He took a moment to regroup. “Oh, you know. You move out of town to get away from everything you hate and the moment anything goes wrong in your life you hurry back like a beaten dog.”
She opened her eyes, lazily, like she’d been taking lessons from Scruffy, and stifled a yawn. Or, he amended, like she was tired. “I see.”
“What about you?” he shook his head and tried to focus on what he was saying instead of how languid and serene she looked in the oversized chair. “I mean, I know you aren’t from Carlton, but what made you come here?” The unasked question trilled beneath his words: What could make anyone come to Carlton of their own free volition?
The side of her mouth twitched up, almost breaking into a grin, “Oh you know, you move away to get away from everything you hate …” her voice trailed off. “I don’t plan on going back.”
“Nothing there?”
She did smile then, “Well, you know, it is New Jersey.”
He chuckled. “I’ve never heard someone from New Jersey so fond of New Jersey jokes.”
She shrugged. “Some of them are warranted. I make jokes about Carlton, too.”
“Most of those are warranted, I
He grunted and took the mug and cookie. “Thanks.” The cookie was stale and crunched uncomfortably, but he swallowed hard and took another bite because she had resumed her hawk-like perch on the edge of the chair and was staring. Hard. And unashamedly. He finally tore his eyes away from hers, suddenly disturbed. If he all of a sudden heard the theme music for the Twilight Zone, he wouldn’t be surprised. In fact, nothing normal had happened since he’d returned to Carlton. He took a swig of the tea, burning his tongue and wishing it was laced with a little something extra. Something that might ease the throb in his head and the unsettling feeling that had crept up on him. When he had finished the cup of tea he placed it down on the coffee table, the ceramic thumping against the wood and disturbing the heavy silence. He brushed his hands on his jeans and went to speak.
“I know this is a lot to ask,” she said before he could say anything at all, “but I’m really worried about Scruffy and I just don’t know what I would do if she started … acting unwell again. Would it be possible … I mean, could you stay for just a while in case she isn’t really better? Maybe she’ll … I don’t know, relapse?”
Any other person he would have told no. Especially since Scruffy was stretched out in the corner of the room, snoring like a small train, and seemed completely healthy. But then Charisma turned her big doe eyes on him and they were wide and concerned and honest and so he sighed – a deep sigh that seemed to cleanse himself of the disquiet that had settled around the pair as they sat in the living room. “Sure, not a problem.” A slow smile spread across his face, and she sat back in her chair for the first time since he’d walked in the door, and exhaled slowly.
“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” She smiled, one of her rare, full-blown, beautiful smiles. Jared was surprised he hadn’t noticed she was so attractive before. What was more alarming was that he was suddenly finding her attractive. Just as suddenly staying with Charisma a little while longer stopped being a chore and morphed into something that could be enjoyable. There was a pause in the conversation, for the first time not heavy and dragging, but pleasant and airy. “I heard you’d been out of Carlton for a while. What made you come back?” She dropped her head back against the chair, her hair falling back and exposing the slender slope of throat that ended in collarbone and more pearly skin.
He took a moment to regroup. “Oh, you know. You move out of town to get away from everything you hate and the moment anything goes wrong in your life you hurry back like a beaten dog.”
She opened her eyes, lazily, like she’d been taking lessons from Scruffy, and stifled a yawn. Or, he amended, like she was tired. “I see.”
“What about you?” he shook his head and tried to focus on what he was saying instead of how languid and serene she looked in the oversized chair. “I mean, I know you aren’t from Carlton, but what made you come here?” The unasked question trilled beneath his words: What could make anyone come to Carlton of their own free volition?
The side of her mouth twitched up, almost breaking into a grin, “Oh you know, you move away to get away from everything you hate …” her voice trailed off. “I don’t plan on going back.”
“Nothing there?”
She did smile then, “Well, you know, it is New Jersey.”
He chuckled. “I’ve never heard someone from New Jersey so fond of New Jersey jokes.”
She shrugged. “Some of them are warranted. I make jokes about Carlton, too.”
“Most of those are warranted, I
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