sexy fireman

cara sunday after

"This is so strange, I just called you and got a wrong number again. You'd better check with Verizon," he said, sounding a little frustrated with the situation.

"Mark, can I call you back in five?" she said avoiding eye contact with Marlena..

"Sure, just checking in about Friday. I'll call you later," he said and ended the call.

"Carmen, what's going on?" Marlena said, suspiciously.

"Mar- ," Cara started.

"Is this guy two-timing you?" she said, incredulous.

"No, Mar, nothing like that," Cara said, thinking the best way would be to make light of it. "It's actually kind of funny. Mark thinks my name is Cara Raymond."

Marlena looked at her incredulous.

" Actually, my name IS Cara Raymond. Now, that is," she said breezily. "I changed it for business purposes, then just took it on permanently."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Carmen?" Marlena snapped. "You changed your name? Legally?"

"Yes, legally," Marlena said. "it was when I started job hunting. Had a better ring to it." She said, hoping to close the subject.

Marlena looked like she was about to throw up, so Cara continued on quickly. "It's no big deal, Marlena. Lots of people do it."

"Yeah, people who are hiding something," she said quietly. "You embarrassed by us, Carm? Being a Fucci's not good enough for you?"

"Stop, Marlena! Don't be ridiculous!" It was going badly; Cara got defensive. "You don't know what it's like!"

"Oh sorry. I forgot how tough it is for people like you, with your Ivy education and your fancy job," Marlena spat. "Dad's got to be rolling in his grave. Ma's gonna be devastated." Her eyes filled with tears.

"Marlena, please don't tell Ma," Cara begged.

"If it's so okay, why can't Ma know?" Marlena charged, hurt.

"Oh, God, Mar, you know Ma wouldn't understand, she's so old school." Cara tried to explain.

"Carmen, you better shut up now, you just keep making it worse. Maybe you should go. I don't want to be around you right now, Cara!" Marlena got up and opened her door.

Slowly, Cara got up and went to the door. She paused, "Mar, I really wish you would let me explain better..." Marlena shook her head and pointed. "Just go!"

Cara nodded and left. She waited until she was at the corner before she let the tears come.

Cara’s train ride back into the city was miserable. She made several calls to Marlena, all going directly to voice mail. She toyed with the idea of calling Mark, but decided against it knowing that once she heard his voice she would break down. It was way too early in their relationship for that.

“She’s being so unreasonable!” Cara thought defensively. “If she would only listen, she would understand why I did it. She’s being so judgmental.”

Marlena always thought Cara had it so easy. She never gave her credit for working hard, assuming things came to her naturally. And her Ivy education? That was four years of hell, between academic and social pressure. Despite her AP’s and honors classes in her public school in Yonkers, she was ill prepared for the rigor of the classes at Brown, unlike her classmates who had graduated from boarding schools and private schools she had never even heard of.

And the social pressure was worse. With designer clothes and credit cards at their disposal, her classmates lived in a world entirely different from hers. She had no idea of what a Louis Vuitton bag was or where Bali was on the globe, but these were the things her “friends” talked about in casual conversations, as if they were commonplace. Marlena had no idea how hard it was to return from school breaks and have to listen to her fellow students talk about their exotic vacations when she spent her time off working in her parent’s bakery.

If only Marlena would pick up the phone, she could explain all this. In part it was Cara’s fault that she didn’t understand; she had never complained to her family during those days, not wanting her parents to know her frustrations or be made to feel badly. And now, she needed Marlena to understand some of the things she needed to do to succeed in the world to which she aspired.

By the time she reached her apartment, Cara desperately wanted to go to sleep and forget everything. She glanced at her sofa and thought back to her date with Mark. Had he only left that space yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Cara picked up her phone to check the time, hoping it wouldn’t be too late to talk to Mark. She was now drained of emotion, and needed something happy to happen before she went to bed.

“Oh God!” she cried, as she saw a reminder pop up on her screen “training week with Jay, 5/5 – 5/9.” Tomorrow began the week she transitioned to junior associate. She sat down on the couch and cried. It was all too much.