Read Online Father Of The Brat by Elizabeth Bevarly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Bevarly
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coffee cup. “I can recommend a good family counselor,” she said as she lifted the cup to her lips for a slow swallow.
Not one to be put off by subtle dissuasion, Carver pointedly drummed his fingers on the table and persisted, “I don’t think I’d feel comfortable talking to a stranger.”
But Maddy parried like an expert. “You might be surprised. A lot of people think it’s easier to open up about their problems to a stranger than it is to a friend.”
“I’m not one of them.”
“And I’m not a certified counselor.”
“But you are a friend.”
Maddy sighed heavily, wanting to contradict him, knowing that she could in all honesty deny that she was Carver’sfriend. But that would mean admitting that she felt something other than amity for him, something she didn’t think she wanted him knowing about.
“All right,” she finally relented. “If you feel the need to talk to someone, then it’s okay for you to call me.”
“I’d rather see you.”
“I’m very busy.”
“But what about me? What about Rachel?”
That was hitting low, she thought. How was she supposed to answer that? “You have my card,” she said evasively as she stood. “I wrote my home phone number on the back of it.”
If she hadn’t known better, Maddy would have almost sworn Carver looked panicky at her unvoiced intent to leave. “It hasn’t been half an hour,” he said.
“Maybe not. But it’s time for me to go.”
She glanced down at the raspberry jelly-filled doughnut that sat untouched before her, then turned and began the brief journey to her car without a backward glance. Only when she was seated behind the steering wheel waiting for the engine to warm up did it occur to Maddy that, once again, her appetite had fled as quickly as it had occurred.
That was the thing about appetites, she thought as she threw her car into gear. You just never quite knew where they were going to take you.
Four
“Y ou said I could call you if things got rough.”
Maddy sighed into her telephone and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Ten-thirty. For the first time in months, she’d managed to get into bed before midnight, only to have her telephone ring as soon as she’d switched off her lamp. Certain the caller would be a wrong number, she hadn’t bothered to turn the light back on when she’d answered. Then Carver’s voice at the other end of the line had assailed her through the darkness, sounding as warm and wonderful, as close, as if he’d been lying beside her in bed.
The image had been too troubling for Maddy to consider further, so she had hastily snapped the lamp back on. Her bedroom flooded with light had been anything but welcome relief, however. She’d found herself in surroundings that were quiet and reticent and lonesome. Her bedroom had reminded her too much of herself. And the vacant spot in bed beside her had only seemed to mock her—it was as empty as the rest of her felt.
She rubbed her forehead hard. “Carver, I didn’t mean you could call me this late at night.”
“Maddy, it’s not that late. It’s only ten-thirty.”
“Which, tonight anyway, is past my bedtime.”
There was a momentary pause from the other end of the line before he asked, “You’re in bed?”
Too late, Maddy realized her gaffe. Carver Venner was the kind of guy who would make the most out of the situation. And their history together being what it was, he would no doubt use this opportunity to make fun of her. “Yes,” she replied obediently, knowing she was setting herself up. “I’m in bed.”
“Alone?”
She sighed, still waiting for the punch line. “What business of yours is that?”
Carver sighed back. “Well, obviously if I’ve interrupted something…”
He knew very well he hadn’t interrupted something, she thought. She tried not to sound too exasperated as she asked, “You’ll what? Call back when I’m through?”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said impatiently. “But if
Not one to be put off by subtle dissuasion, Carver pointedly drummed his fingers on the table and persisted, “I don’t think I’d feel comfortable talking to a stranger.”
But Maddy parried like an expert. “You might be surprised. A lot of people think it’s easier to open up about their problems to a stranger than it is to a friend.”
“I’m not one of them.”
“And I’m not a certified counselor.”
“But you are a friend.”
Maddy sighed heavily, wanting to contradict him, knowing that she could in all honesty deny that she was Carver’sfriend. But that would mean admitting that she felt something other than amity for him, something she didn’t think she wanted him knowing about.
“All right,” she finally relented. “If you feel the need to talk to someone, then it’s okay for you to call me.”
“I’d rather see you.”
“I’m very busy.”
“But what about me? What about Rachel?”
That was hitting low, she thought. How was she supposed to answer that? “You have my card,” she said evasively as she stood. “I wrote my home phone number on the back of it.”
If she hadn’t known better, Maddy would have almost sworn Carver looked panicky at her unvoiced intent to leave. “It hasn’t been half an hour,” he said.
“Maybe not. But it’s time for me to go.”
She glanced down at the raspberry jelly-filled doughnut that sat untouched before her, then turned and began the brief journey to her car without a backward glance. Only when she was seated behind the steering wheel waiting for the engine to warm up did it occur to Maddy that, once again, her appetite had fled as quickly as it had occurred.
That was the thing about appetites, she thought as she threw her car into gear. You just never quite knew where they were going to take you.
Four
“Y ou said I could call you if things got rough.”
Maddy sighed into her telephone and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Ten-thirty. For the first time in months, she’d managed to get into bed before midnight, only to have her telephone ring as soon as she’d switched off her lamp. Certain the caller would be a wrong number, she hadn’t bothered to turn the light back on when she’d answered. Then Carver’s voice at the other end of the line had assailed her through the darkness, sounding as warm and wonderful, as close, as if he’d been lying beside her in bed.
The image had been too troubling for Maddy to consider further, so she had hastily snapped the lamp back on. Her bedroom flooded with light had been anything but welcome relief, however. She’d found herself in surroundings that were quiet and reticent and lonesome. Her bedroom had reminded her too much of herself. And the vacant spot in bed beside her had only seemed to mock her—it was as empty as the rest of her felt.
She rubbed her forehead hard. “Carver, I didn’t mean you could call me this late at night.”
“Maddy, it’s not that late. It’s only ten-thirty.”
“Which, tonight anyway, is past my bedtime.”
There was a momentary pause from the other end of the line before he asked, “You’re in bed?”
Too late, Maddy realized her gaffe. Carver Venner was the kind of guy who would make the most out of the situation. And their history together being what it was, he would no doubt use this opportunity to make fun of her. “Yes,” she replied obediently, knowing she was setting herself up. “I’m in bed.”
“Alone?”
She sighed, still waiting for the punch line. “What business of yours is that?”
Carver sighed back. “Well, obviously if I’ve interrupted something…”
He knew very well he hadn’t interrupted something, she thought. She tried not to sound too exasperated as she asked, “You’ll what? Call back when I’m through?”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said impatiently. “But if
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