Chapter Six
Hot shower water streamed down Carly’s head and neck washing away the unpleasant smells of a long day at the hospital. The emergency room action hadn’t let up and Carly felt exhausted by the time she signed out. Most nights she’d stay and work overtime, the hospital needed the hands, and the extra money helped pay the mortgage. But that was the old Carly, the Carly with no life except a great house and faithful dog. Tonight however, Single Carly had a date. And, she was nervous as hell.
Was tonight an actual date or was she dreaming this into something she only hoped it would be? If Larry hadn’t mentioned being spooked at her house, would Mike have asked her out at all? Good lord, how confusing.
Carly sighed and turned off the water. She stood in the shower stall for several minutes pondering the evening ahead. Dating was hard, and she had been out of practice for so long. And what to wear on a date that you’re not really sure qualifies as a date?
Camille’s Café was a casual place, fun and comfortable, a place where jeans and t-shirts were as welcome as Christmas gifts. The small family restaurant sat in the middle of Main Street between the used bookstore and Ace Hardware. Camille’s boasted the best home-cooked meals in town and delicious pies to boot. Granted, it wasn’t the most romantic place Mike might pick for them to meet, but she loved the cozy restaurant just the same. She’d feel at home there in her Levi’s and summer blouse, yet she also wanted to impress Mike by dressing up a bit. Then again, she didn’t want to look like she tried to impress him, so maybe jeans and a t-shirt would suffice? But what if he was trying to impress her and showed up dressed to kill?
“Ugh!” Carly threw her hands up in despair. She drew back the shower curtain and reached for her favorite purple towel, only to find an empty hook. She spotted the towel lying on the floor, a good six feet away.
“You prankster!” She laughed, and looked for Rags.
He was not in the bathroom. The door stood wide open. She scratched her wet head. How did he get out? She allowed him in the bathroom while she showered, in hopes that the circulating steam might ease his arthritis. She purposely kept the door closed to keep the steam in. She stared into the empty room again. As far as she knew, Rags lacked the ability to open doors. Had she absent-mindedly left it open? Perhaps the door opened on it’s own, the wood buckling from the steam? Whatever the reason, Rags had disappeared from the bathroom and Carly ran short on time to ponder more on his magical escape.
She picked up the towel, dried herself off and pulled on her fluffy white robe. She wrapped her hair in a matching towel, plugged in her curling iron and went downstairs in search of Rags. She found him hiding and shaking in the kitchen pantry.
“Oh, Rags,” Carly said, bending to comfort the old dog. “What’s the matter?”
Rags rested his head on his paws and whimpered. She sat with him for several moments, soothing him. After a short while, he relaxed.
“I don’t know what’s up with you, lately.” Carly said, relieved he calmed down. “If I didn’t have this date, um, I mean, meeting, tonight, maybe I’d take you to the vet, but I think you’ll be okay until I get home. I won’t be gone long, old boy.”
She gave his head another gentle pat. “I have to get ready now. Be a good boy and get some rest.” She rose and returned upstairs.
As she opened her bedroom door, the sight before her caused her to freeze in her tracks. Clothes from her closet lay everywhere. Pants and shirts splayed haphazardly on her bed. Her dresser drawers hung open, the contents spilling out of them. Shoes appeared to be randomly flung about. She grabbed the door for support as her heart raced.
