Text Me Page 11

  Caroline leveled a bored gaze on her. “No, I don’t.”

  “You have to kiss a lot of them to find your prince.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes, yanked off her dirty gloves, and grabbed her purse from the counter shelf. “You sound like my grandmother. Besides, been there—done that. Not doing it again. I’m going for a sandwich before I throw up. You want something?”

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  Been there, done that? What the heck did that mean? The door flung closed behind her and Abby enjoyed a few minutes of silence before a set of customers waltzed in and needed assistance. Her phone announced a text message while she worked, but she ignored it until they were gone. When she finally lifted the screen to read it, she gasped. Could things get any more complicated?

  Carter: Jax, can you go by and see Mom? I’m worried she’s not taking her meds. She probably needs a couple of refills on the blood pressure stuff too.

  She stared at the screen, expecting it to bark another order. Wow, now what should she do?

  By Caroline’s information, Carter would be gone a couple of weeks minimum. If his mother was out of medicine, well, that could be dangerous. Especially blood pressure medicine. If Abby ignored the message, she’d never forgive herself if something happened to her. She frowned and shook her head, trying to admonish the growing plan. No, I am not getting involved.

  She told herself that at least three more times that afternoon but it didn’t stop her from visiting his office. With the intention of checking on the struggling plant in the lunchroom, of course. When Roger just happened to walk in for a soft drink, it had been easy to ask questions. Too many questions, if the look on his face meant anything.

  Still, she’d gleaned enough to get a town name. From that, the Internet told the rest. Sunday was her planned day off, so she’d make the trip then.

  Normally, Abby kept Caroline in the loop on everything. Fortunately, she hadn’t asked how the day off would be spent. It was a relief not to tell it; there’d be a mountain of comments and teasing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It had taken forty-five minutes to go from city sidewalks to country slumber and Abby had to blink to make sure she wasn’t watching it on the widescreen in her living room. Taking a short road trip had been enticing since it had been months since she’d done anything other than work. Okay, except for Carter. She’d done Carter. She took a hand from the steering wheel and slapped her face for the picture she’d planted in her head. Technically, she wasn’t sure who took the initiative on that little fiasco, which she aptly wrote off as TBF—The Ballpark Fling. She grinned through her stinging face.

  It wasn’t as if she had so many that names were required. In truth, it could have also been named the new business fling, or the texting guy fling, or even the great fling of 2014 … or perhaps her entire life? No, that was depressing. Still, TBF sounded good. She shrugged. Or maybe just The Carter Thing. Actually, she’d never had a fling before so simply calling it The Fling would have sufficed but where’s the fun in that?

  She assumed the reason why it was so great was the result of such a long lapse. Or maybe her ex hadn’t really been all that great and she wasn’t worldly enough to know. Had she been more like Caroline and moved through guys like a lawnmower, maybe her mind wouldn’t keep conjuring up crazy images and she’d stop sighing all the time, wishing for those images to be real again. Crap!

  She swerved the wheel sharply to avoid the missed turn. The tires squealed a bit on the wet concrete but managed to veer into the fenced drive. The only marker had been the mailbox. Thankfully it had huge numbers. Large enough for a blind person to make out in the rain.

  So this was where his parents lived. Or at least his mother. She knew little about his father—siblings either. Would it anger him that she came? They barely knew each other. Not to mention if she told him, she’d have to explain how she knew to go.

  She’d just take care of the immediate medical concern and get out, without telling anything to either of them.

  It was a nice house. Abby had imagined some clapboard white farmhouse with chickens when she reached the last turn. There had been one or two of those on the way, and it would have fit. Wrong. The house was brick and stone. Austin stone—one of her favorites. The light tan and white gave a warm welcome. Abby’s stomach twisted as she noted the entrance wasn’t visible. Instead, the drive wrapped around the house; she’d have to pull to the back. No hiding or turning around.

  When her tires crunched behind the home, she gasped. The car rolled to a stop. The house was on a hill overlooking a steep drop to a creek bed. Water trickled along, a natural fence between the house and the pasture on the far side. A horse jerked his head to measure her interruption then dropped it back to eat his fill of the tall grass surrounding his hooves.

  “Holy cow, what a view.” She let out a soft whistle and climbed out of the driver’s seat, stretching her arms above her head.

  “Isn’t it though? I don’t think I could ever give it up.” The voice startled Abby.

  She peered across the car’s roof to seek the owner. She narrowed her gaze.

  There. In the shadow of a side building across from the house sat an older woman. A bowl rested in her lap as she worked her hands on the contents—contents which were hidden in its depths. “Are you lost?”

  Abby pushed the door shut and stepped toward the woman. “That depends. Are you Carter’s mother? Carter Coben?”

  The woman lifted her wrist to push hair from her face. A wasted effort because the wind plopped it right back. “Yes, that’s me. Is something wrong? He’s not hurt, is he?”

  “Oh, no. He’s fine. I’m just here because—he asked. He had to go to Thailand for a few weeks and said you might need a prescription or two filled. I just wanted to come by and—check.”

  The woman stood gingerly and placed the bowl on the chair she’d vacated. She grabbed a walker that had been out of sight behind the chair and moved to meet Abby. “I’m afraid I haven’t met you before. Are you a friend of Carter’s?”

  “Uh, sort of.” Abby had no intention of explaining. Something told her this woman probably wouldn’t approve of the new TBF designation assigned to her son. She quickened her steps and moved to hold the woman’s arm. “I’m a friend of Jackson’s. Carter asked him to stop by and uh, I offered to come instead. I hope that’s okay. Jackson’s been a little—busy lately.” If only she knew.

  “That’s so nice of you. I do need a couple of things. Thanks for stopping by. Let’s go inside and I’ll give you the list. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, Mrs. Coben.”

  “Call me Becky, honey.”

  That was all it took for Abby to gain the woman’s confidence. Thank God she wasn’t a burglar or a murderer. This old lady wouldn’t stand a chance against someone with ill motives. The faint smell of dust caught Abby’s attention. She looked up and noted a pickup approaching with a white cloud of dust trailing behind.

  Abby changed her mind about Becky’s safety when the driver leaned out the door and waved. “You okay, Ms. Becky?” The rifle in his back window was enough to ease any concerns. Or scare off a dumb kid with bad intentions.

  “Yeah, yeah. All’s well. This is a friend of my son’s. Apparently he’s over in the rice country now.”

  Abby mused at the way the woman offhandedly bragged about her son. Pride mixed fairly well with feigned exasperation. She imagined the entire countryside knew as much about Carter’s travels as Becky.

  “Rice Country. Where, Louisiana?”

  She laughed, a worn but lively sound. “Thailand.” The woman took her hand from the walker and waved him away. “Get back to work, Bruce, before you run out of sunshine.”

  The truck dashed away in a cloud of dust. Four hours later, Abby finally headed to fill the prescriptions after touring the house with Becky. She’d heard a zillion family history stories and gotten a brief lowdown that Carter had lost a sister AND father when he was younger. It made her cringe t
o hear such personal stories about him. No child should get hit with that so early in life.

  Abby was only slightly disappointed when the pharmacist informed her the doctor mentioned he was dropping Becky’s meds by the house on his way home the next day. Great. So the trip hadn’t been necessary. It had definitely been entertaining. Except for seeing two dozen photos of a young Carter. Now she had a face to put with the asshole friend, Jackson. She’d been too much of a coward to look at him in Carter’s office, but she took ample time surveying the photos.

  She just didn’t have the heart to tell anyone he actually wasn’t a nice guy. Nor was he a good friend. In fact, all those pictures of him just made the truth larger and somehow sadder. How could a man who grew up with Carter steal his girlfriend? Wasn’t there some kind of code about that? Or maybe it hadn’t been the friend’s issue—maybe Carter hadn’t really been vested to begin with.

  By the time she arrived back at her place, the sun had disappeared and stars twinkled as a reminder they saw her. And Carter. And his mom. It was comforting in some way. She showered and lounged in front of the television for a dose of late night news before sleep. Carter probably should know Becky was okay.

  She grabbed her phone and typed in a quick note to ease his concern. He responded immediately with thanks. Amazing thing—technology. A message like that could travel around the world in seconds. She turned the phone to silent and clicked the light off before snuggling into the sheets.

  Abby seriously needed advice and not the kind that Caroline gave. Sitting up in the dark, she retrieved the phone and opened Justchat.com. After sending a series of messages, she waited for eons for an answer. The clock made a clicking noise as the time changed. Still, no answer. She watched the screen and waited, the bright glow of the display casting an iridescent light across her face.

  She Hearts Dogs: Hey, there. Sorry I haven’t talked in a while … very busy.

  Traveling To Survive: No worries. Me 2.

  She Hearts Dogs: Need some advice. U up for it?

  Traveling To Survive: Ok but don’t sue me if it doesn’t work out.

  She Hearts Dogs: LOL. U ever been dishonest with someone because u think it’s best for them?

  She set the phone down and padded to the kitchen for a drink of water. Upon returning the flash of blue showed an answer. Should she read it? Her stomach rolled but she lifted the phone.

  Traveling To Survive: Honestly, yes … but now, not sure I’d do it again. U probably aren’t going to like this answer … but here’s the thing … it is not up to u to decide what’s best for someone else. Only you. So whatever ur keeping from the person, just realize it’s not yours to keep. Tho if I don’t know what it’s about, I can only guess at how to handle.

  Should she tell him? He’d probably hate her too. She shrugged. Better him than Carter, right? She sucked in a deep breath and started typing.

  She Hearts Dogs: OK but don’t hate me … need ur help on this. Remember the girl that got involved with her boyfriend’s bestie? Well, I got to know the boyfriend (now ex) and now feel like I should tell him about the ex and his friend. Feel like I’m lying.

  Traveling To Survive: Hmmmm. OK. See what u mean. That’s a toughie. Truth is u R lying. BUT this isn’t your story to tell. How long has he been friends with the asshole?

  Abby giggled because that was exactly the name she used on Carter’s lame friend.

  She Hearts Dogs: They grew up together.

  Traveling To Survive: Damn. Seems like that happens a lot nowdays. Well, I’ll let u off the hook on this one. That’s the OLD friend’s bad, not yours. Maybe u could get him to tell it?

  Yeah, right. That’s not happening. Another message flashed on the screen.

  Traveling To Survive: Now ur turn. Need some feminine advice. Ready?

  She Hearts Dogs: Sure. This isn’t relationship advice, is it? Because I’m not the best person to ask about that.

  Traveling To Survive: Nope. Not exactly. How hard should a person work at a friendship? Hypothetically of course. If you find yourself constantly going the extra mile, do you keep trying? Or give up?

  She Hearts Dogs: Is this a potential date thing or a buddy?

  Traveling To Survive: Buddy

  She Hearts Dogs: Ok. That’s easy. Never give up on your buddies and they won’t give up on you. Why would that be considered feminine advice though?

  Traveling To Survive: Because I don’t want to ask a guy—sounds soft. Hey, you think we should meet some time? Would love to buy you a drink or dinner. What d’ya think?

  She Hearts Dogs: Hmmm. You don’t think that would ruin our budding romance?

  Traveling To Survive: Is that what this is? Really? I thought we were just chatting. JK.

  She Hearts Dogs: That’s the point. If we meet, we are no longer “just chatting.” Don’t you think the anonymity of it all is kinda nice? I mean we can say whatever we want to and not worry about impressions. It’s liberating.

  Traveling To Survive: Liberating from what? Okay. We’ll keep chatting then. Let me know if you change your mind though. I can still chat even if I actually know who I’m chatting with.

  Abby dropped the phone as if it were on fire and rolled over in the bed. She scrunched her eyes closed and pondered the thought of meeting someone now. Someone else.

  The display on the phone blasted the room in light and she rose to see it. She pulled it closer and read.

  Carter: Sorry about losing it. Think Abby’s involved w someone.

  Huh? Where the heck did he get that idea? Especially after the other night. She wanted to let it go but hell, she was so far over the line with the texting, it didn’t matter.

  Did she say that?

  Carter: Not exactly.

  Then call her and ask.

  Carter: I can’t. None of my business. Wanna get a beer when I get back?

  She frowned. Why would he think that after all that happened? Oh, yeah. She told him as much when he asked about Jackson. Idiot. How was it possible a random guy she never officially met could cause this much havoc in her life? Abby tossed the phone down. She really hated this Jackson guy. In fact, if she ever saw him again, she planned to tell him exactly what she thought. And the girlfriend too. Still, her chat buddy was right, it was their drama to tell—not hers. She grabbed the phone again and added a message before settling back into the bedding.

  CALL HER.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her cell light blasted her again around 11:00 p.m. and she groaned. Without sound, it simply danced around on the nightstand. More annoying than if it rang. No one ever called this late unless—she pulled herself up. An emergency. That would be the only reason. She grabbed the phone and blinked to focus on the screen. It had been forwarded from the office phone. She started to ignore it, but the incessant buzzing wasn’t to be denied.

  “Hey, Abby, It’s Carter.” The low rumble of his voice made her heart jolt. Yay! He took her advice. Correction, Jackson’s advice.

  “Um, Carter?” Stupid to ask because one, he told her and two, she knew that voice—intimately. Still, she didn’t care to give away the fact she’d wanted him to call and why the hell he thought she was involved with someone else. How to get to that discussion without giving away her spying efforts? She sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard.

  “Wow, your voice sounds good. Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s just that—work has been crazy. I’m in Thailand.”

  “I heard. What’s it like over there?” She imagined tons of short, thin, dark-haired women fawning over him and playing karaoke while drinking shots at a bar—a bar where everyone sang American songs in strange accents. Having never been anywhere near there, she had nothing to go on but scores of movie clips. Yeah, it wasn’t exactly politically correct to generalize but—it wasn’t like she voiced the thought.

  “Crowded. Too crowded. How’s the flower world going? Business good?” His words were distant and awkward. Yet comforting.

  “It’
s fine. Listen, we need to talk about that night after the game.” She wasn’t sure where to start or how to tell him about the mistaken messages. If she told too much, he’d realize she’d seen everything he said about her. That might be TMI for the current situation. Would he get mad? Of course he would. He’d hate her and that would be unbearable.

  His breath whooshed out in a sigh. “It’s okay. Look, I don’t know what you have going on, but I just wanted to tell you I was thinking about you. When I get back, we’ll talk more.”

  She frowned. He didn’t want to hear it? “Why not now? Anything you need to say can be said now, can’t it? Why wait? I mean, what’s the point in dragging things out. If you want to know something—or tell me something, it’s fine.”

  Silence.

  “I can’t right now. I mean, there’s something I want to talk about, but it needs to be in person. Not when I’m on the other side of the world. Have you kept up with the Astros this week? I haven’t had time.”

  Geez, did he really want to talk sports? He could do that with anyone—even the asshole Jackson. As much as she enjoyed the game, that wasn’t on her mind at the moment. What was on her mind was the full night of unbelievable sheet gymnastics they’d partnered in. Right before she bolted out the door because she wasn’t ready to tell the truth. Regardless of her chat buddy’s advice, it was wrong to continue the lie.

  “I need to tell you something.” What was the right way to say it? Oh, it’s not me that’s involved with your best friend, it’s your ex. Or perhaps, listen there’s one thing I can’t deal with and that’s cheating. Nope, too strong. Besides, they weren’t involved in a relationship per se—that would likely scare the hell out of him and he’d think she was talking about him. Even if it was intended to reassure.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. There’s—”