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“I like him very much” was all Carla would admit.
“Since you’re so keen on this young man, when do your father and I get to meet him?”
Clenching a fist at her side, Carla struggled to hold on to her temper. She resented her mother for asking these questions, and she wanted to get off the phone in case Philip was trying to get through to her. “I don’t know. Philip lives in Spokane.”
“Spokane,” her mother mused aloud.
“Mom,” Carla interrupted, “would you mind if we talked later? I really do need to get off the phone.”
“No, that’ll be fine. I just wanted to know if you could come to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Sure.” At this point, she would have agreed to anything. “What time?”
“Seven.”
“I’ll be there. Talk to you later.”
“Good-bye, dear. And, Carla, it might help if you’re a little more subtle with…what’s his name again?”
“Philip.”
“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Carla, do try to be demure.”
“Yes, Mother, I’ll try.”
After hanging up, Carla took several calming breaths. She had never gotten along well with her mother. Over the years, Rachel Walker had admirably portrayed the role of a docile wife, but Carla had always thought of her as weak-willed: there were too many times when she’d witnessed the anger and hurt in her mother’s expressive eyes. She had wanted to shout at both her parents. Her father should have known what his career was doing to the rest of the family. Her mother should have had the courage to speak up. Carla had tried at sixteen and had been silenced immediately, so she’d moved away from home as soon as possible, eager to leave a situation that made her more miserable every year. And now…here she was following in her mother’s footsteps. A knot tightened in the pit of her stomach. Dear heavens, what was she getting herself into with loving Philip? Again and again she’d tried to tell herself that what they shared was different—that she and Philip were different from her parents. But their chances of avoiding the same problems her parents had dealt with were slim—likely nonexistent. With stiffening resolve, Carla vowed she would never live the type of life her mother had all these years. If that meant giving up Philip, then she’d do it. There wasn’t a choice.
The phone rang again a half-hour later. Carla stared at it as if it were a mad dog, her eyes wide with fear. Chills ran up and down her spine. This was Philip phoning—the call she’d anticipated all day.
Trembling, she picked up her purse and walked out the door. A movie alone was preferable to listening to the phone ring every half-hour. If she let Philip assume that she had gone out with Cliff, then maybe, just maybe, he’d give up on her and they could put an end to this misery. Her instincts had guided her well in the past. Now, more than at any other time in her life, she had to listen to her intuition—for both their sakes. Philip deserved a woman who would love him for his dedication to law and order and his commitment to protect and serve. He needed a wife who would learn the hazards of his profession a little at a time. Carla knew too much already.
Nancy wasn’t home when Carla returned to the dark, lonely apartment. And within five minutes the phone rang. She ignored it. Coward, she taunted silently as she moved into the bedroom. But if she was behaving like a weakling, it shouldn’t be this difficult. It wasn’t right that it hurt this much.
—
Nancy was still asleep when Carla dressed for work the following morning. She penned her roommate a note and left it propped against the sugar bowl on the kitchen table:
If Philip contacts you, please don’t tell him I didn’t go out with Cliff last night. I’ll explain later. Also, don’t bother with dinner. I’m going to my parents’. Am interested in hearing how things went with Cliff. Talk to you tonight.
—
Carla’s first surgery was an emergency appendectomy, a teenage boy who was lucky to be alive. Carla had witnessed only a handful of deaths in the last couple years. She didn’t know how the rest of the staff dealt emotionally with the loss of a patient, but each one had affected her greatly.
When she had finished assisting with the appendectomy, she found a message waiting for her. She waited to read it until she was sitting down, savoring a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. Call Nancy, it read. A glance at the wall clock confirmed that there wouldn’t be enough time to call until after lunch. When she phoned at one-thirty, however, there wasn’t any answer, so Carla assumed it couldn’t have been that urgent. She’d wait to talk to Nancy at home.
—
Three hours later Carla headed for the hospital parking lot, rubbing the ache in the small of her back to help relieve some of the tension accumulated from a long day on her feet. Dinner with her parents would only add tothat tension. And eventually she would have to talk to Philip—he’d demand as much. But she didn’t want to think about that now. Not when her back hurt and her head throbbed and she was facing an uncomfortable dinner with her parents.
Carla was soaking in a tub full of scented water when Nancy knocked on the bathroom door. “Carla.”
“Hmm,” she answered, savoring the luxurious feel of the warm, soothing water.
“I think you should get over to your grandfather’s as soon as possible.”
Carla sat up, sloshing water over the edge of the bathtub. “Why? What happened?”
“I can’t explain now, I’ll be leaving any minute. Cliff’s on his way. He’s taking me to the Seattle Center for the China Exhibit.”
