Chapter Eight.

The only the sounds in the huge house were the loud ticks of the tall grandfather clock in the front hall. Carrie stood by the open front door, her hands at her waist with the fingers interlaced. She waited to catch Peter when he returned for his car so she could speak to him.

She inhaled the fragrance of freshly cut gra.s.s. It reminded her of Peter pushing the mower over the church lawn--always willing to step in to help anyone who needed a.s.sistance. How tempting it was for her to lean on his strength now. Yet she couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to him. He deserved better from her after all he'd done.

Peter's steps crunched on the stone driveway. Carrie called out to him. The familiar grin blossomed on his face as he diverted his steps to the door. She opened the screen door to admit him and stood facing him.

"I just wanted to thank you, Peter. Before... I was very upset. You were a big comfort and I... Well, I wanted you to know that when I... It's just that when you said you'd found Grandma, I didn't think. I just... You know, when I..."

No matter how she started she couldn't finish. She could not admit that she'd actually kissed him. She shouldn't have done it. He looked down at her mouth and she knew he was thinking about the same thing she was. Her kiss. Why had she kissed him?

"Do you want to take it back?" he asked softly.

"Take it back?"

"Your kiss. Isn't that what you're talking about? Do you want it back?"

Carrie shook her head. He had to be teasing her again. "Peter, I may be a naive woman raised in the country, but I know you can't take kisses back."

"Then I'll have to give you one in trade." He sounded so logical. His gaze locked on hers. He stepped closer and paused without touching her. He was giving her a chance to say no, a chance to back away.

For the life of her, she couldn't speak. She couldn't move.

He lowered his lips to cover hers. His lips felt soft as they pressed against hers. Their noses b.u.mped and he turned his head slightly. Nowhere else did their bodies touch and yet every inch of her skin felt tingly.

Peter raised his head only inches from hers and smiled. Carrie had to breath through her mouth. He looked at her parted lips and back at her eyes. "There. Now we're even until next time. See you tomorrow, Carolyn."

The warm puffs of his breath raised goose b.u.mps on her arms. "See you tomorrow," she whispered as he stepped through the screen door.

She'd forgotten all about wanting to tell him that she should never have kissed him even once, much less twice.

Long before the time for church the next morning, Carrie knew she wouldn't be attending. Maddie didn't want to get out of bed. While understandable, it meant that Carrie had to stay home with her. Carrie felt sorry to miss one of Peter's excellent sermons, but she figured she wouldn't be missed.

That afternoon when the teenagers were due at church to pack up for the puppet show, Carrie couldn't see how she could go along to help. While she would have preferred never to go to the nursing home again, she felt bad about not being able to go today because she'd promised the young people her support.

But what could she do? She wasn't going to burden Bette with the responsibility of tending to Maddie again, especially not on one of Maddie's bad days like today. She wasn't certain Bette would want the responsibility even if Carrie asked her to come over again.

When someone knocked on the kitchen door, Carrie thought it was one of the kids wondering why she hadn't shown up at the church. She was in no way prepared for what she saw. Four women stood beyond the screen door--women Carrie had seen in church for years. They were Maddie's long-time friends, but she was worried why they came.

The tallest one spoke first. "Carrie, those kids are counting on you being at their show and we can understand you don't want to leave Maddie after what happened yesterday. But we all know her. Goodness, we've known her for years."

The nearest woman continued. "We've come to sit with her so you can go with the kids. We'll take good care of her. And you're not to worry. Between the four of us, there's no way she can slip away."

The women all bubbled over with their enthusiastic contributions to the plans for the afternoon with Maddie.

"I volunteered to come because my mother's going to be in your audience at the nursing home," one said. "She doesn't have much going on in her life anymore, and she just loves it when someone comes over to the home to entertain."

Hope blossomed in Carrie's heart as she ushered the ladies into the new downstairs bedroom where Maddie was resting. "Look who has come to see you, Grandma."

The ladies struck up a lively conversation immediately. Maddie looked brighter and more attentive than she had all day. Carrie decided that she could leave after all. She thanked the women and slipped out the back door.

As she ran across the lawn, she heard one of the women playing on Maddie's spinet piano while the others sang. They had found the key to keeping Maddie happy already. Music.

Carrie forced herself to relax and stopped a few moments to look up at the pointed white steeple against the vibrant blue sky. Lord, I know you're not used to hearing from me, but I just wanted to thank you for all the wonderful help I'm getting from the people in this the little country church. From the ladies today and... and from Peter. He's... Well, I wanted to say thank You.

She shuddered to think what would have happened if Maddie had wandered away from home in some city. What would she have done then? For once she was glad that she was in Sunville.

Carrie frowned at the idea, but was distracted from her thoughts when Peter called out, "Here she is."

"Sorry I'm late, but thanks for the four angels you sent over," she said after jogging to his side. He winked at her and she couldn't help but smile.

Susan slammed the door immediately behind her and she jumped. "Can we go now?" Susan asked, making it obvious that they had been waiting for Carrie.

"The stage and puppet box are all loaded in the hatch back of my car, so that's all set. Kids," Peter called. "Have you worked out who wants to ride with whom?"

It was not until that moment that Carrie remembered she was supposed to drive. "I forgot to drive my car to the church, but whoever is coming with me--we can just cut through the yard to the driveway where my car is parked and leave from there."

"Looks like we don't need your car after all, Carolyn. One of the boys drove their minivan that seats seven so there's plenty of room for everyone in the cars that are already here," he explained. He rubbed his hands together. "Okay, let's get this show on the road."

"Come on, Susan. Get in the car," Marc called over the roof of the car he was driving.

"I'm not riding with you," Susan announced. "I'm going to ride with Peter. She can ride with you." Her head jerked toward Carrie without looking at her. She crossed to Peter's car and stood by the pa.s.senger-side door.

With the stage and box in the back, there was only room for two up front. While Carrie didn't think it was a good idea for Peter to be alone with Susan, she was hesitant to say she wanted to be there in Susan's place. She couldn't guess how that would be interpreted by the kids, or by Peter.

The choice was taken from her when the other girl grabbed Susan's arm and pulled her to Marc's car. "You're crazy if you think I'm going in that car without you, Susan," she told her. "That would be like throwing me to the lions."

Susan glared at Carrie a moment and then reluctantly climbed in beside her friend as the boys in the front seat roared their impressions of lions. Their impersonations dissolved into laughter.

Peter turned toward Carrie. "Well, I guess that means you're stuck with me." He walked around the car to get in. "Worked out perfectly, didn't it?" Peter whispered over the top of the car.

Carrie glanced over at the other cars and was thankful the kids hadn't heard his comment. They might not understand he was just teasing, a born kidder, she decided. No wonder the youths liked him so much, she thought as she opened her door.

Carrie's happy thoughts of Peter disappeared as the car neared the Sunville Nursing Home. By the time she entered the door and walked into the guest lounge, she felt light-headed and her palms were damp. Her stomach cramped so hard you was certain she would be ill.

Peter must have seen her state, because he ushered her to a chair in the corner of the reception area. "You look pale. You sit here until you're feeling better," he insisted. "The kids and I can get the stage up. You come on in when you're up to it." Carrie nodded and Peter disappeared into the large dining room where the puppet show would be held.

She looked down the wide hallway that she'd walked several times to visit Ralph. Seeing it for the first time since his death brought back terrible memories that rained down on her like a sudden summer storm.

Carrie tried to focus on the happy years she and Ralph spent at North Dakota State University before Ralph had to quit. Crop prices had plummeted, and his parents, who owned the implement dealership in town, could no longer afford to keep him in school. They couldn't afford hired help either, so Ralph had to fill in. He resented his situation and complained bitterly to anyone who would listen.

Carrie's parents must have thought she might quit to be in Sunville with Ralph, because they'd pressured her to finish. They didn't need to because at the time she'd wanted to go on and graduate all along. It made her feel guilty.

She remained faithful to Ralph for the next year, but each time she saw him she was aware that her feelings had cooled more toward him. They dated when she was home for school breaks, but he wasn't the same person she'd thought she had been in love with since high school. Their goals and hopes for the future weren't compatible anymore.

Ralph had turned bitter and angry and never missed a chance to make snide comments about Carrie getting all the good things in life while he got garbage. Rather than make the woman he professed to love feel good, he seemed to go out of his way to make her feel as miserable as he did. Nothing she could say would cheer him up, and very quickly it became evident that their time together was not to be savored or enjoyed. The thought of spending the rest of her life with him was a nightmare.

Instead of helping his parents out of their financial crisis or at least doing his best to wait patiently until it pa.s.sed and farm prices went back up, he charged expensive clothes, accessories for his car, and dinners on trips to Fargo to see Carrie. When the bills came, he couldn't pay them, and the finance charges compounded. He and his parents teetered on the verge of bankruptcy.

Then the summer before her senior year, Carrie's parents died in a tragic boating accident on Leech Lake in Minnesota. Her sister, already married and living in Colorado, was too pregnant to travel. Carrie took care of all the details with only Maddie to help her or comfort her.

Despite the fact that she felt wretched over her parents' deaths and was still grieving, Ralph suddenly insisted Carrie marry him right away. A heated argument ensued that she was certain the whole neighborhood could hear because he shouted. She'd told him he was being unreasonable and refused to be coerced. Ralph had said she was selfish and inconsiderate and every other name he could think of. He'd stormed out of Maddie's living room where they'd been arguing and had gone bar hopping until he got so drunk he pa.s.sed out in his car. The police found him and brought him home.

In her heart Carrie couldn't love him any more. She found it hard to even respect him as a friend. He wanted his life to be rich and easy and wasn't willing to work for any of it. Although she'd wanted to call off their engagement permanently, she'd still given him the benefit of the doubt and decided to wait until she'd worked through grieving for her parents to see how she felt about Ralph. Her friends told her she was too considerate because all the while she was still faithful and didn't date anyone else.

During her senior year, she knew Ralph continued to drink heavily. The rumor network in Sunville was working well and she heard all about his long nights out. Driving home in a snow storm one night from a bar, he had an accident in which both his legs were smashed.

Carrie came to Sunville, and since her parents' house had been sold by then, she stayed with Maddie in order to visit Ralph in the nursing home. He'd been recuperating there since the hospital released him after the accident. She'd decided before she went in his room not to tell him she'd fallen out of love with him and was ending their relationship. She'd felt that telling him then would be like kicking a man when he was down. She couldn't do that. If he brought it up, she would tell him to get well first and then they would talk about it.

Angry and cursing from the moment he saw her walk into his room, Ralph accused her of causing his accident. "If you'd married me last summer, I wouldn't have been drinking to forget your broken promises. Now, because of you, I'm laid up here with all these old geezers for ages."

His accusations had reduced Carrie to tears because she'd done nothing. She didn't understand how he could be so irrational.

"I'll probably walk with a limp once I get out."

The more she cried from the injury of his verbal stabs, the more he yelled at her. The last straw was when he'd bellowed that he didn't love her and never wanted to see her again.

The nurses finally stopped the loud scene and insisted she leave so they could get him quiet again.

The following day, Carrie knew that her decision to break off the engagement was the right one. She felt relieved when she decided to tell him then instead of waiting. She was actually glad that he had yelled at her and called her all those names. She was free. There was no need to keep up the pretense of still caring for him. She would tell him she didn't want to see him again either and it would be over.

She knew she couldn't visit Ralph again so she wrote him a long letter. She mentioned she was sorry he felt the way he did about her, but he was wrong. She had not caused his drinking. He'd decided to drink of his own free will. She'd been faithful to him, but she didn't love him any more. And since he didn't love her any more either, she wouldn't return to visit. "I no longer feel the love I once thought I had for you. All I can do now is pray for you and wish you well," she wrote to end the letter.

Feeling a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she made one more trip to the nursing home and left the letter with a volunteer at the front desk.

The next morning Carrie was ready to drive back to Fargo when a police car pulled up to Maddie's house. The balding officer who had responded so quickly when Maddie disappeared, had questioned her for an hour about the arguments she'd with Ralph. He asked repeatedly about drugs. He even asked about any prescriptions that Carrie or Maddie had that Carrie would have had access to.

Finally, he told her that Ralph had swallowed a handful of pain and muscle relaxant pills he'd apparently been h.o.a.rding. The nurse at the home had found him dead in bed that morning.

Carrie was devastated. In the weeks that followed, she had come close to a nervous breakdown. She had felt certain her letter was responsible for his death. It must have pushed him over the edge. If only she hadn't written to him. Guilt ate at her. She had no where to turn and didn't know what to do. The whole town was stirred up by the strange death of the young man after a loud argument with his fiance. Every time Carrie ventured out of Maddie's house, people asked her what "really" happened.

"You can tell me," they would say. "He died because of you and the big argument you had, didn't he? How come he had so many pills?"

Carrie fled from the nosey townspeople and stopped going out of the house at all. She even bought an answering machine for Maddie's phone and let it screen the calls for her.

Her aging grandmother had been shaken by the questioning session in her home following Ralph's suicide. Carrie hadn't wanted to burden her further and never mentioned it again. Carrie told her sister what had happened, but didn't go into enough detail to upset her. She had to care for a toddler and new baby. That left no one for Carrie to talk to.

On top of feeling as guilty for Ralph's death as if she'd handed him the pills, she felt so alone and lost. She couldn't understand how G.o.d could have let such bad things happen to good people. From that week on, she quit going to church and rarely prayed. What was the use? she thought. She'd done everything she could to be considerate of Ralph and his situation, but by deserting him when he needed her, and writing the letter that pushed him over the edge, she'd been the instrument of his death.

Applause from the dining room in the nursing home brought Carrie out of her deep reverie and back to the present. She pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her damp cheeks. She slipped into the ladies room and splashed cold water on her face which helped reduce the redness. She dabbed on a little powder and when she looked more presentable, she hurried into the dining room.

"Hey, where were you?" Marc asked, spotting her at once. "You should have seen us. We were hesitant and nervous at first, but once the first act was over, the rest went, as Peter likes to say, 'Just great!'"

Carrie managed to laugh with him at his imitation of Peter. "I'm so proud of you kids. You've come a long way in a very short time."

"Thanks to your help," Marc volunteered.

Carrie smiled. "And I knew you could do it without me here to help," she told the others as they gathered around her. She felt a happy glow being with these young people. It was a wonderful sensation that went a long way to lightening her guilt-ridden memories of the last time she was in the nursing home.

"Hey, food's coming!" Wayne announced.

The staff brought in juice and cookies for everyone. The kids cheerfully helped serve those who were unable to come to the table to get their own. They really seemed to enjoy helping others.

"Feel better?" Peter asked as he handed her a little plastic gla.s.s of juice.

"Much. Thanks. I just had to get beyond my memories of the last time I was here."

"Good. We can leave as soon as the kids are done scarfing down the cookies. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a minute to talk to Don Hoag, the home's pastor. He's new to this job as I am to mine. We like to compare notes," he joked.

"Take your time. I'll keep an eye on the kids," Carrie promised.

Peter and Don sat a little way apart from the others. Don reminded Carrie a lot of her father, the same graying hair and kind face. Carrie found her gaze returning time and time again to that corner of the room where they sat. She couldn't keep her eyes off Peter. Ridiculous.

Deliberately turning her back to them, she began to pack the puppets that the puppeteers had dropped behind the stage when the show ended.

"I'll get that for you, Carolyn," Marc offered as he picked up the last of the puppets before she reached for it.

"Thanks. It's probably about time for us to leave. We can carry these boxes out to the car without disturbing Peter. Can you and the other boys bring the stage?"

"Sure."

Susan strolled up and struck the pose she used often with her hands on her hips and all her weight on one leg. "Can we go now?" she demanded to know.

"When this is all packed in the car and Peter's done talking to Reverend Hoag, we'll be ready to leave." Carrie tucked in the flaps on the box of puppets. "This one's ready to go."

"What's Peter talking so long to him for?" Susan asked angrily to anyone in general.

"Who knows, Squirt? Maybe he's lining up a command performance for the Sunville Community Church Puppet Players!" one of the boys said.

Marc laughed with the others and picked up the box of puppets. Susan stood where she was, her weight switched onto her other leg, and her arms crossed over her waist.

"Will ya get a move on and open the door for us?" Marc ordered. "Susan," he whined to put a good deal of emphasis on using her name. Until now, he'd always called her Squirt.

Susan turned her head and glared at him for a minute, but then moved to open the door.

Several of the residents of the home waved and called out goodbyes to them as they left.

Peter came running out to the parking lot just a few minutes later. "Sorry. I intended to introduce you to Don, but we can do it another time." He opened the back of his car and helped load the stage. "Everyone ready?"

Several of the kids were already in the cars and ready to leave. Susan hung back near Peter as usual. "I want to ride home with you, Peter. Carolyn can ride with them," she added, practically spitting out Carrie's name.

Peter looked from Susan to Carrie and back, but before he could speak, Marc called out. "Come on. Give 'em a break, will ya? You'll get home in one piece in my car, I promise."

Carrie stood close enough to see tears glisten in Susan's eyes. Her cheeks reddened and suddenly she turned to face Carrie. "Why did you have to come back to Sunville anyway? n.o.body wants you here. Everybody knows you're a murderer! And stay away from Peter! He doesn't want to a.s.sociate with a woman like you and neither do we."