Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella. Lynne Marshall
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they’d taken a quickie vacation. Then one day, wham, she magically announced she was expecting. Joe had practically jumped over the moon that night, he’d been so happy. They’d finally start their own version of a big happy family. Since Angela’s body had gotten the hang of getting pregnant, he’d planned to talk her into having a few more kids after this one. He’d walked on air for a couple of months...until his fertility report had dropped into the mailbox. Late. Very, very late.
What a fool he’d been.
Trying to give his overworked jaw a break, Joe went to town scrubbing the grill from the barbecue as if it was a matter of life and death. By the time they’d finished with the cleanup, he didn’t know about Carey any more, but he definitely needed the distraction of some mindless TV viewing.
She sat on the small couch, passing him along the way, and he caught the scent of her shampoo again. It was a fresh, fruity summer kind of smell with a touch of coconut, which when he’d bought it for her had never planned for it to be a minor form of torture.
Mixed up about his feelings for the smart and easygoing nurse from Illinois, he intentionally sat on the chair opposite the couch, not ready to get too close to her again tonight. It brought up too many bad memories, and he so did not want to go there. There was only so much boxing a guy could do in a day. Torture sounded better than reliving his failed marriage. He clicked on the TV right on time for the show they both liked to escape to. If zombies couldn’t make him forget how attracted he was to the lovely stranger living in his house, nothing could.
* * *
Carey put her head on the pillow of the surprisingly comfortable guest bed, thinking it was the first time she could remember feeling safe in ages. Things had gotten super-tense living with Ross those last few weeks, and, talk about the worst timing in the world, she’d gotten pregnant right around the time she’d known she had to leave him.
She didn’t want to think about that now, because it would keep her awake, and she was really tired. It’d felt so normal and relaxing to sit and watch TV with Joe. He’d made the best barbecue chicken she’d ever eaten and she’d made a pig out of herself over the baked potato with all the toppings, but she chalked it up to his making her feel so welcome. The only problem was she couldn’t get the vision of him in his boxing shorts, working out with the punchbag, out of her mind. Wow, his lean body had showcased every muscle in his arms and across his back as he’d punched. His movements had been fluid and nothing short of perfection. Not to mention his washboard stomach and powerful legs. The guy didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
What on earth was she thinking? Her life was in a shambles. She had an unborn baby to take care of. The last thing she should be thinking about was a man.
A naturally sexy man with kind brown eyes and a voice soothing enough to give her chills. She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head on the pillow.
When she finally settled down and began to drift off to sleep she realized this was the first day she’d ever felt positive about her and the baby’s future in three months. Things would work out for her, she just knew it. Because she, with the help of Joe, would make sure they did.
A slight smile crossed her lips as a curtain of sleep inched its way down until all was dark and she peacefully crossed into sweet dreams. Thanks to Joe.
ON MONDAY, AFTER working all day, Joe insisted Carey come out with him for dinner, which was fine with her because she’d felt kind of cooped up. They ate at a little diner, then he showed her around Santa Monica, like the perfect host. She got the distinct impression it was to get them, and keep them, out of the house, because sometimes things felt too close there.
At least, that’s how it felt for her, and sometimes she sensed it was the same for him. The guy seemed to bite down on his jaw a lot! But she soon ignored her worries about him not wanting her around and went straight to loving seeing the beach and the Pacific Ocean, and especially the Santa Monica pier.
On Tuesday Joe had the day off, and he dutifully took her shopping for more clothes at a place called the Beverly Center. They checked the directory and he guided her to the few stores she’d shown interest in, then he stood outside in the mall area, giving her space to shop. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with helping her choose clothes, rather he just did what he thought he should do out of courtesy to her situation. She protested all the way when he insisted on paying for everything. She sensed his generosity was based on some sense of charitable obligation, and she only accepted his offer when he’d agreed to let her repay him once she was back on her feet. She’d be sure to keep a tally because things were quickly adding up!
Wednesday morning, before he started an afternoon shift, he chauffeured her around to the Department of Motor Vehicles for a temporary driving license, and since she’d received a check from her old job he also helped her open a bank account. She decided the guy was totally committed to helping her, like he’d signed some paper or made some pact to do it. And she certainly appreciated everything he’d done for her, but...
Even though he was easy enough to be around, she felt it was out of total obligation to treat people right in life. Far too often she sensed a disconnect between his courtesy and that safe distance he insisted on keeping between them. Well, if that’s what he wanted, she knew exactly how to live that way. Her parents had, sadly, been perfect role models in that regard.
* * *
Joe got home on Wednesday night to a quiet house. Carey had said hello, but now kept mostly to herself in her room. It made him wonder if he’d done something to offend her. He’d been trying his best to make her feel at home, though admittedly he may have been going about it robotically. But that seemed the only way he could deal with having a woman in his life again. Since he worked the a.m. shift the next day, he didn’t get a chance to ask Carey if he’d put her off or if her withdrawal had nothing to do with him. Something was definitely on her mind, and under the circumstances, being battered, bruised, mugged, homeless, and completely vulnerable, not to mention living with a stranger, he could understand why.
Maybe he’d come off aloof or unapproachable at times. But she had no idea how nearly unbearable it was to fix meals with her when it reminded him how much he missed being married. And having Carey there twenty-four seven, with her friendly smile and naturally sweet ways, was nearly making him come unhinged. She deserved someone to share things with, to talk to, but it couldn’t be him. Nope. He was nowhere near ready or able to be her sounding board. All he’d signed up for was offering her a place to live.
Maybe he could arrange for some follow-up visits with the social worker at the clinic. That way she could get what she wanted and needed and he wouldn’t have to be the person listening. Because when a woman vented, from his past experience with Angela, he knew she always expected something in return. Nope, no way would he unload his lousy past on Carey, no matter how much she might think she wanted him to. The lady had far too much on her plate as it was, and, truthfully, reliving such pain was the last thing he ever wanted to do. The social worker was definitely the right person to step in, and he planned to ask Helena to follow up the next day.
On Thursday evening, Joe came home to find Carey scrubbing the kitchen floor. From the looks of the rest of the house, she’d been cleaning all day.
“What’s up?” he asked.
She was so focused on the floor-scrubbing she didn’t notice him. He stepped closer but not onto the wet kitchen tiles.
“Am I that much of a slob?” he tried to joke, but she didn’t laugh. Something was definitely eating at her. “Carey?”
Finally she heard him and shook her head as if she’d been in a trance and looked at him. “Hi.” Not sounding the least bit enthusiastic.
“Everything okay?”
She stopped pushing the mop handle. “Just trying to pay you back for all you’re doing for me.”
Damn. She may as well