Authors: Danielle Sibarium
"I know that. I'm planning for the future."
"How?"
"I don't owe you an explanation."
"No, son, you don't. But an opportunity presented itself, and I'm just wondering if I could be of any help."
"What opportunity?" The roiling of my stomach told me it had to do with Elizabeth. I let my eyes trail over to her, and found her looking down at her dish.
"I already declined your very generous offer, sir."
I wasn't liking this one bit. "Maybe one of you might let me in on the big secret."
"Of course," my father piped up. "And I assure you it's no secret. Seems I was the one in the dark. I heard Sandy berating Elizabeth. It was completely uncalled for, so I let her go."
"You fired Sandy? For Elizabeth?" This was not sitting well with me. He'd think she owed him something. I needed to get her the hell away from him.
"Not quite. But some of the things Sandy said to her were downright cruel. And I think somewhere along the way, the lines between Sandy and I became blurred. I think she expected a different kind of relationship between us."
My pulse was racing. I was a hair away from losing it. "So Sandy was jealous? Of Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "I think she misunderstood the meetings your father requested. And then she was looking for me today while I was inviting your father to dinner. It was just a bunch of misunderstandings. But yes, it seems like she was in love with your father."
I nodded, not sure I could speak. So I wasn't the only one concerned about my father and Elizabeth.
"So now I'm left without an office manager, and I offered the position to your lovely fiancé. By the way, she already turned me down. But it comes with a nice boost in salary. I think she should consider it."
I shook my head. "No, she shouldn't." Silence. I had to recover quick. "When I secure funding for the center I want to open I'll need her help."
Again I squeezed Elizabeth's hand. It was true, only I hadn't discussed it with her. Thank goodness she didn't let on that it was the first she
was hearing about it.
"Center?
What center?"
I took a deep breath, not sure I wanted to get into the details of what I wanted to do only to hear how I was wasting my time. But I reminded myself
I didn't care what he thought.
"I've been looking for investors to get us up and running. I found a good spot, not industrial, but not in a strip mall either, so there's room for growth and expansion."
"But what is it?"
"Common Sense.
Common ground for sensory people. In essence, I'd like to open a training center. A place that people have access to whether their insurance covers services or not. The problem with early intervention is that once we leave, the parents don't always know what to do. While part of our job is training them, they don't sit in on the sessions, and many of them don't get it. And if they don't follow through with what we've set in place, the foundation we lay isn't so strong."
My father sat back listening.
"And then when the kids age out into the school system, it gets worse. Parents are rarely there, communication is more about what the child did that day, or week, not how the challenges were handled. They feel abandoned and just want someone to turn to."
"
I'm not understanding how this would help."
"I want to have different areas set up.
A small gym where the kids could seek sensory input in a safe and healthy way rather than engaging in crashing at home. I'd charge a small fee and make sure we have qualified people supervising."
"So you want to open a children's play gym?"
"That's only one area. I want to offer occupational therapy, physical and speech therapy with professionals. I want to have rooms with see through mirrors and speakers, so we could work with the children on challenges such as eating and touching different textures. I want to offer music and art therapy. Things the schools find unnecessary."
And when school's out for things like Christmas and spring break, when the parents are at their wits end because they don't know how to keep their own children in a routine that works for them, we come in. We'll hold camps, part
fun, part work for the kids."
"Wow, son, it sounds like you've really thought this through."
"I have. But the problem is in the finances. It sounds great, and it truly is, but therapists make a lot of money, and behaviorists aren't cheap either. I want to keep it affordable because these poor parents often burn through tons of money trying to buy supplies or figure out which therapies work for their child. And they need to make sure they plan for their children's financial future if something should happen to them. Then there's rent and supplies. It's not a cheap undertaking."
"Carter, I had no idea you were so passionate about this. When you came and told me you wanted to become a behaviorist instead of a doctor, I had no idea you had any plans beyond being a special education teacher."
"Not that there's anything wrong with that. But yes, this was always in the back of my head. Maybe not this exactly, but opening my own agency or practice."
"It sounds like a worthy investment. And to be honest, I rather contribute to your cause then a charity I don't have any real allegiance to."
Jackass. As a doctor there should be many charities he had allegiances to.
I shook my head. "I don't want your money."
"Carter, I'm in a position to help, please take it."
"Not your money. I was never interested in it. I'll make my own."
"Well then, can I arrange for you to meet some people whose money you might find more acceptable?"
I shook my head. "I don't know."
"They're doctors, Carter. If this is successful, and by the passion I hear in your voice I'm sure it will be, they'll be thrilled to have their names tied to it. It wouldn't be a favor to me, it would be an investment in their own practice."
It made sense. As long as it wasn't coming out of his pocket, did it matter? Not when I thought about the families it could help. "Okay. Reach out to your colleagues and I'd be happy to meet with them."
"I'm assuming you have your business and marketing plan laid out so you can provide them with details in black and white."
"Of course."
My father smiled, the first genuine smile I'd seen on him in quite some time as he clapped my shoulder. "That's my boy." Maybe I didn't want to kill him at the moment, but I didn't want him to touch me either.
As we finished up dinner and waited for the bill, the tension didn't feel as hea
vy and thick as it did earlier.
The conversation turned to Elizabeth. My father asked about her parents, where they lived, what they did. If I didn't harbor so much anger and resentment for him, it might almost have been a good night. Even I had to
admit, it ended on a much better note than I ever anticipated.
Chapter 51
Elizabeth
I got in my car and let out a long relaxing breath. It was over, and we all made it through in one piece, without any physical altercations. I couldn't ask for more than that.
At least not yet. Everything ended on such a positive note, dinner went better than any of us anticipated. Certainly better than I had.
I started my car and blasted the music. I wanted to drown out thoughts of my day. They could wait; they certainly weren't going to just slip from my memory, no matter how much I would've liked them too. While dinner went well, I was glad it was over… relieved. I just wanted to get home and snuggle up next to Carter. He pr
omised he'd be right behind me.
How strange these last few days had been. I'd never been brought home to meet anyone's parents. It wasn't in the cards with Mason. And that was fine. It was better having so many new experiences with Carter, even if the stress level was magnified tenfold from the norm. I just wished Christmas as a whole went better.
Dominique hated me. Maybe if I was the last woman on earth and promised to save the human race she would have a use for me, but definitely not as her daughter-in-law.
And after Christmas dinner with my parents, I lost hope of having holiday meals as one big happy family. But now after this uncomfortable and strange dinner with Carter's father, I found a light at the end of a very twisted
and dark tunnel.
If Dr.
Penbrook came through for Carter, and I had no doubt he would, it could change the whole hue of their relationship and help brighten the family prospects all around. As long as Jamie stayed away. Hearing about her was one thing; if my parents were forced to meet her, I believed they'd lock and chain me in my old room.
The quaint Metuchen restaurant was only minutes away from my apartment. I knew it would be a perfect choice for dinner. Somewhat private, it offered an atmosphere conducive to talking, as well as eating. It served form as well as function. And it was o
n our turf, not Dr. Penbrook's.
That was important to me because I wanted Carter as comfortable as possible. Plus it was close to home.
Which meant a quick and mindless drive at the end of the night. After this day, that was a necessity for us both.
I parked in the spot allotted for me and went straight to the unit mailbox for my daily fill of junk mail. I glanced up as Carter's car drove into view. Taking with me the small pile in my hand, I headed to my apartment door as he parked his car. I didn't bother to shuffle through the letters as I stood outside waiting for him. There'd be time for that. Right now I was much more interested in how he was holding up.
I felt Carter's arms wrap around my waist as I turned the key in the lock. I didn't know what to expect from him when we got home, but this was a pleasant surprise. At least he wasn't in a crabby, vile mood.
"You seem happy."
"Please," he sniggered, "I thought tonight would never end."
"Was it that bad for you?" I smiled as I pushed the door open and took a step inside. "I thoug
ht you handled yourself great!"
He shrugged. "I just kept focused on getting you alone. I knew you'd make all the grief and aggravation worth my while."
"Oh, really?"
"You better believe it." He reached for the mail in my hand, and tossed it on the couch as he backed me up into the small, but cozy living room.
"Finally you're mine. Do you know how hard it was to sit and eat dinner, when all I kept thinking about was taking you into the ladies room and making love to you?"
I giggled, happy to see a playful light shine bright in his eyes.
"I'm glad you didn't try. I would've said ‘No.’ Someone might have heard, and it would've been embarrassing for both of us."
"Speak for yourself. I'd be proud to get caught in the bathroom with you." He leaned against me, his body pressed against mine, heating me up. "I would've made you forget where we were."
"Doubt it," I challenged, knowing full well he was probably right.
"Oh, yeah?" he reached his hands under my dress. I heard as well as felt the tear of my panties as he pulled them off me and tossed them aside. "I hope you weren't very attached to those."
I shook my head with every nerve cell in my body now on high alert, waiting for his next touch, the next brush of his skin with my own.
"Once I got you against the wall and lifted you up so I could get inside you, you wouldn't be thinking about where we were or who would walk in." His hands were lost under my hair, pulling my head toward his mouth. "You'd only be thinking about how good I feel and how many times I'd make you come," he whispered.
I moaned as his mouth met mine. Until he pulled away, leaving me wanting so much more.
"And if we did get caught, you would've liked it." His warm breath tickled my ear. "It would've turned you on more. Just having someone stand there, watching us.
Watching you."
I didn't want to wait another second. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to act out the visions he was putting in my head. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, ready, waiting.
But it didn't come.
I wanted him to touch me
there
but his hands and mouth focused on my neck and shoulders. I knew he wanted me, I could feel that much. If he wasn't going to press the issue, I knew I should. I reached my hands down to his waistband and unbuttoned his pants before he seized me.
"Not so fast. You want me?"
I nodded.
"Tell me."
"I want you."
"I'm not convinced."
I felt blood swoosh through my body with every pulse of my heart. My cheeks colored with the pink tinge of heat he caused to surge through me. I ran my hands over the hard boxed muscles of his stomach and up his chest lifting his shirt off him.
Carter closed his eyes. I felt like he was lost somewhere. I knew that was ridiculous, he was there, in the moment with me, but something was off. I wondered if it was just because he was feeling the same ty
pe of delightful torment I was.