Read Online The Reconstruction of Carla Millhouse by Candy Caine - Free Book Online
Authors: Candy Caine
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on a job.”
“You sound like you like him.”
“I do. I really do.”
“Hmm. Maybe you can get him to stay after the job is over.”
“Maybe. Yeah—that would be nice,” Lynne said and glanced down at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I have to show a house this afternoon.”
“Good luck. And I hope you make a sale and get a big commission.”
Lynne smiled. “Thanks.”
As they both rose from the table, Lynne reminded, “Call me.”
* * *
Back at home Carla smiled. It was about time her best friend found someone special. Besides, Carla always liked happy endings. She’d been hoping to alter the direction of her own life to ensure a happy ending. That was the point of working out and half-starving in order to get back into shape. In fact, she was more determined than ever to make herself better than she’d been before. A new, improved model fit for any showroom. She smiled at her own mental quip.
A beat later, Carla picked up her cup of coffee and rose from the chair behind her desk. She walked over to the window and stared out at the fenced backyard that ran the length of their small ranch-type house. When she and Martin first purchased the place, she imagined their kids playing on a swing set back there. Instead, it had become Blondie’s domain.
Children. Richard was right; she did want to be a mother. Being Blondie’s mommy didn’t quite cut it, any longer. There would always be that emptiness, a void, that even having Martin back, could never be filled. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned and walked back to grab a tissue from the box on her desk.
She decided to make a fresh pot of coffee and went into the kitchen. On the refrigerator was a calendar with a picture of children gathered around a birthday cake with lit candles on it. It made her think of Martin’s birthday, which was December 20th. Each year, ever since they’d first met, she’d fussed over him on his birthday. Whether it was a special night out or a quiet night in, she planned an evening he’d never forget. Year after year, she wracked her brain to come up with a fresh idea, usually starting to plan a month in advance. However, he never reciprocated. She opened the refrigerator and took out the coffee can. Grabbing a filter from the cabinet over the coffee maker, she began to scoop out the coffee.
For her birthday, it was the usual same-old thing: a dinner out complemented with a gift selected by one of the women who worked at the showroom. Well, she was tired of the same-old, same-old. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, right?
Damn! She’d lost count of the scoops she’d already put into the filter and had to dump the coffee back into the can. Starting again, she tried to remain focused. One, two, not this year…
Despite her lack of concentration, she was able to get the coffee maker going. Why should she put herself out when she had to share him with…whatever her name was? “Well, not this year, buster! Things are gonna be different!” she said aloud to the coffee machine, which only gurgled back in reply.
Good, Lord, Carla thought, I’m really losing it. I’m obsessing about a man who is so self-centered he hardly cares whether or not I’m here. Either he thinks I’m spineless or that I’m too caught up in my writing to confront him. Well, I have news for him. I care. I also have needs and feelings, too! And as soon as I’m back to my new, improved model, watch out! The coffee maker nosily gurgled its approval.
Carla poured coffee into a mug and brought it back to her desk. She was glad she finally made a decision about Martin’s birthday. It had been nagging at her for some time. She’d take Martin to dinner and give him a tie as a present. And if it turned out that he wasn’t happy with the arrangements or gift, too bad. As of this moment, her complaint department was officially on hiatus. She was no longer going to be a mat for any man’s feet.
* * *
Jessie Thompson hated to go
“You sound like you like him.”
“I do. I really do.”
“Hmm. Maybe you can get him to stay after the job is over.”
“Maybe. Yeah—that would be nice,” Lynne said and glanced down at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I have to show a house this afternoon.”
“Good luck. And I hope you make a sale and get a big commission.”
Lynne smiled. “Thanks.”
As they both rose from the table, Lynne reminded, “Call me.”
* * *
Back at home Carla smiled. It was about time her best friend found someone special. Besides, Carla always liked happy endings. She’d been hoping to alter the direction of her own life to ensure a happy ending. That was the point of working out and half-starving in order to get back into shape. In fact, she was more determined than ever to make herself better than she’d been before. A new, improved model fit for any showroom. She smiled at her own mental quip.
A beat later, Carla picked up her cup of coffee and rose from the chair behind her desk. She walked over to the window and stared out at the fenced backyard that ran the length of their small ranch-type house. When she and Martin first purchased the place, she imagined their kids playing on a swing set back there. Instead, it had become Blondie’s domain.
Children. Richard was right; she did want to be a mother. Being Blondie’s mommy didn’t quite cut it, any longer. There would always be that emptiness, a void, that even having Martin back, could never be filled. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned and walked back to grab a tissue from the box on her desk.
She decided to make a fresh pot of coffee and went into the kitchen. On the refrigerator was a calendar with a picture of children gathered around a birthday cake with lit candles on it. It made her think of Martin’s birthday, which was December 20th. Each year, ever since they’d first met, she’d fussed over him on his birthday. Whether it was a special night out or a quiet night in, she planned an evening he’d never forget. Year after year, she wracked her brain to come up with a fresh idea, usually starting to plan a month in advance. However, he never reciprocated. She opened the refrigerator and took out the coffee can. Grabbing a filter from the cabinet over the coffee maker, she began to scoop out the coffee.
For her birthday, it was the usual same-old thing: a dinner out complemented with a gift selected by one of the women who worked at the showroom. Well, she was tired of the same-old, same-old. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, right?
Damn! She’d lost count of the scoops she’d already put into the filter and had to dump the coffee back into the can. Starting again, she tried to remain focused. One, two, not this year…
Despite her lack of concentration, she was able to get the coffee maker going. Why should she put herself out when she had to share him with…whatever her name was? “Well, not this year, buster! Things are gonna be different!” she said aloud to the coffee machine, which only gurgled back in reply.
Good, Lord, Carla thought, I’m really losing it. I’m obsessing about a man who is so self-centered he hardly cares whether or not I’m here. Either he thinks I’m spineless or that I’m too caught up in my writing to confront him. Well, I have news for him. I care. I also have needs and feelings, too! And as soon as I’m back to my new, improved model, watch out! The coffee maker nosily gurgled its approval.
Carla poured coffee into a mug and brought it back to her desk. She was glad she finally made a decision about Martin’s birthday. It had been nagging at her for some time. She’d take Martin to dinner and give him a tie as a present. And if it turned out that he wasn’t happy with the arrangements or gift, too bad. As of this moment, her complaint department was officially on hiatus. She was no longer going to be a mat for any man’s feet.
* * *
Jessie Thompson hated to go
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