had plummeted, she’d tried to be more vigilant about taking care of herself. Being a borderline diabetic was troublesome enough, but it was a whole lot better and less trouble than being a full-fledged one.
As she went through the daily ritual of pricking her finger, squeezing a drop of blood out onto the test strip, and waiting for the results from the small monitor, a sudden tremor of uncertainty seized her. It had been a long time since she’d gone on a real, honest-to-goodness date with a man. Too long, she decided, especially if just the thought of it made her insides so jittery.
The machine beeped and Charlotte glanced down at the small readout display on the monitor. “Right on the money,” she murmured as she jotted down the resulting numbers. Taking her time, she packed up the machine and put it away in the drawer.
Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she sighed. “Still too early to leave,” she complained.
Just as she closed the drawer, the phone rang. Again she checked the time. Wondering who on earth could be calling her, she hurried to the living room.
Though she didn’t immediately recognize the caller ID number, her curiosity got the best of her, and she picked up the receiver anyway. “Maid-for-a-Day, Charlotte speaking.”
“Charlotte, this is Mack.”
“Hey, Mack, I was just about to walk out the door.”
“Glad I caught you then. I’m so sorry to do this to you—last minute and all—but I’m going to have to cancel our dinner date. We’ve had somewhat of a family crisis,” he explained, “and I need to take care of things.”
Though a part of her was disappointed, another part of her was relieved. “No problem,” she told him, but even as she said the words, she couldn’t help wondering what kind of family emergency had come up, especially after having met his daughter and granddaughter earlier. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, nothing, but thanks.”
Itching with curiosity, she waited a moment for Mack to elaborate. When he didn’t, she finally said, “In that case, how about a rain check? We can always have dinner on another night. Besides, your family has to come first.”
“Thanks for being so understanding, but then I knew you would be.” He paused. “Tell you what, how about tomorrow night instead?”
The invitation wasn’t said with much enthusiasm which made her wonder if he’d used the old family emergency ploy to get out of the date to begin with. Maybe, like her, he’d had second thoughts as well. Then again, maybe like her, he had a case of the jitters. So, now what? Should she go or not go? Did she even want to go?
You’re being ridiculous, and it’s not like Mack is going to try to jump your bones or anything. It’s just simply a dinner date. Nothing more, nothing less.
Before she could change her mind, she said, “Tomorrow evening would be fine. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Is there some reason you don’t want me to pick you up at your house?”
“No—no particular reason,” she quickly assured him. “I just figured it would be easier all the way around if I drove myself.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said after a moment. “It’s been a long time since I was down here. I had to go downtown earlier and almost got lost. I’d forgotten how confusing all of the one-way streets can be. Anyway, there’s a restaurant just down the block and across the street from the hotel.”
“Yes, I know where you’re talking about.”
“Just meet me there around seven. I’ll wait for you inside near the front door.”
After Charlotte hung up the telephone, she wandered over to her little parakeet’s cage. “Well, Sweety Boy, here I am, all dressed up with nowhere to go. All that worrying about what to wear for nothing,” she grumbled.
She stuck her finger inside the cage, and the little bird quickly sidled over for her to rub the back of his head. “So much for my exciting dinner date. I’ll just have to make-do with leftovers tonight instead. Guess I should look on the bright side, eh, Boy? Now I can get out of this garb and get comfortable.”
But as she headed to the bedroom, she thought about Mack’s rain-check dinner invitation again. Besides his lack of enthusiasm, there was something else that bothered her about it, something that hovered on the edge of her memory, but what?
Racking her brain for the illusive memory, she changed into her pajamas, but it was while she was eating a makeshift dinner of cold leftover chicken and a salad that it suddenly occurred to her what had been bothering her about her dinner date.
“…the other reason I came by was to let you know that your father expects you to join him and the rest of the staff for dinner tomorrow evening.”
The big staff dinner gathering scheduled for tomorrow evening was what had been bothering her. After thinking about the conversation between Belinda and Mack, she strongly suspected that Mack worked for Belinda’s father, and that Mack, as well as the girl, would be expected to attend the dinner party as well.
While Charlotte cleaned up the kitchen, she debated on whether to cancel the date or keep it. Since there was a slight chance that she could be wrong, in the end she decided to give Mack the benefit of a doubt and keep the date.
Once the kitchen was clean, Charlotte decided to watch TV. Though she tried to stay awake until time for the television mystery series Monk, she kept nodding off. After she’d nodded off the third time, she gave up and switched off the television. In the bedroom she set her alarm clock an hour earlier than usual and climbed into bed.
Charlotte was just dozing off when she heard raised voices coming from Louis’s half of the double. Not for the first time did she wish that the wall that separated her half from Louis’s was thicker and more insulated. Though somewhat muffled, she could still hear every angry word whether she wanted to or not.
“Is this what you’ve been looking for?” Louis shouted.
“Give that back!” Joyce yelled.
“Not on your life. It’s going down the drain.”
“No! Don’t!” Joyce cried. “It’s mine. You have no right!”
“I have every right as long as you’re under my roof,” he retorted. “I’m warning you, either stop the drinking or get out.”
For long moments, silence reigned, then Charlotte heard Joyce sobbing. Seconds later, like a shotgun blast, the front door slammed, and Charlotte jumped. Outside, a car engine roared to life, followed by the squealing of tires as the car pealed out of the driveway.
In the dark room Charlotte lay listening to Joyce’s sobs, and though her instincts urged her to go next door and comfort the woman, her common sense agreed with Louis. Not that she agreed with his overbearing methods. But then, who was she to judge? Who knows, in his shoes she might do the same thing.
As she lay there, wondering where Louis had gone, at some point she realized that she no longer heard Joyce’s sobs. Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer for both Joyce and Louis, then finally dozed off into a fitful sleep.
“But I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. Tomorrow he was leaving. Tomorrow he’d be on his way to Vietnam, clear across the world.
His arms tightened around her. “And I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered. “But don’t you see? This way Uncle Sam will pay for me to go to medical school.”
“There has to be another way,” she cried. “We could borrow the money, and I can work while you go to medical school.”
“Oh, honey, you know better than that. In the first place, no one is going to lend me that much money, and in the second place, without your degree, the kinds of jobs you’d qualify for would barely