The Christmas Cookie Chronicles: Carrie (8 page)

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

I
t was almost ten o’clock when Carrie walked into the lobby of the Merry Cherub. Jenny and Dean would be locking the doors soon. Jenny was behind the reception desk when Carrie entered.

“Merry Christmas,” Jenny greeted her.

Carrie forced a smile and returned her greeting. “I’m here to see Iris Tobin.”

“I’m not sure she’s in her room,” Jenny said. “Let me just—”

At that moment, Iris Tobin came out of the parlor. “What can I do for you, Ms . . .” She trailed off. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Carrie MacGregor.”

“Ah yes, the one who knocked over the wrenches in the motorcycle shop.”

“That would be me. Small-town klutz.”

An awkward silence stretched between them. Jenny considerately disappeared into the back room behind the reception desk.

“What was it you wanted to see me about?” Iris asked.

Carrie hauled in a deep breath. This was it. Her bid to save Raylene by throwing herself under the bus. She drew herself up tall. “I heard that you’ve been out digging up dirt on people in order to refute the sweetheart legend.”

Iris spread her hands. “I didn’t want to stoop this low, but everyone in town was so adamant that the silly myth is true. And Mark was completely useless.” She shook her head. “He kept telling me the legend is true.”

He had? Carrie knotted her fingers together.

“But there is no such thing as true love. Out of all the high school sweethearts in town, statistically
someone
had to be divorced or broken up.”

“You couldn’t find any Twilight high school sweethearts who weren’t happily married
except
Raylene Pringle, could you?”

“This is the most closed-mouth small town.” Iris crossed her arms over her chest. “Truly remarkable. Most small towns are hot beds of gossip.”

“Oh, we gossip plenty, but the reality is, many people in this town have found happiness with their high school sweethearts. Raylene and Earl included. They’ll get back together. They were meant to be.”

Iris sniffed. “You’re seriously delusional. Raylene Pringle and her husband are not living happily ever after. The myth is busted.”

Carrie touched her lip to the tip of her tongue. “What would it take for you to leave Raylene alone?”

“There’s not much you could say to get me to drop that line of inquiry.” Iris was cold as a winter graveyard.

“What if I told you I could give you plenty of information to disprove the sweetheart legend? A story featuring a young couple instead of a forty-year-old love affair that’s weathered a lot of ups and downs.”

Iris cocked her head, looked intrigued. “I’m listening.”

She was walking on hot coals here, but it was necessary. Not just to save Raylene, but to make sure Mark went back to where he belonged. He was Hollywood material. Things hadn’t changed between them. He lived a life that she could never be part of. It was no different from eight years ago, when she’d seen that scholarship letter from Columbia tucked under the Santa Claus saltshaker on his parents’ kitchen table. She couldn’t allow him to throw away everything he’d accomplished. Besides, Raylene had been through enough. Carrie was tough. She would survive this, and so would Twilight.

“Mark and I were high school sweethearts,” she confessed to Iris. “We ran away to Vegas and got married on Christmas Day, the month he graduated from high school.”

Iris’s eyes glowed. “Seriously? You’re divorced?”

“The marriage was annulled after forty-eight hours.”

“You did not live happily-ever-after.” Iris rubbed her palms gleefully.

“That’s your busted myth, and the host of your show is caught right in the middle.”

“I love it!”

“You’ll leave Raylene alone?”

“Meet me in my suite tomorrow afternoon for an on-camera interview, and it’s a deal.”

T
he following morning, Mark knocked on the door of Iris’s suite. She’d called him the night before just as he was getting ready for bed and told him she had a surprise interview with someone who was prepared to blow the lid off the sweetheart legend and give them the ratings scoop they were hoping for, but she refused to tell him who it was.

After Carrie had kicked him out of her bedroom window, Mark had been hurt at first, then he’d experienced a moment of total clarity. Because he’d finally put two and two together. She was afraid that if she let herself love him, he’d hurt her again. His tough little Carrie was far more vulnerable than he’d realized.

He’d given it a lot of thought, and then on Saturday he’d made his move. He’d called his real estate agent and told him to list his house for sale. Then he called Burt Mernit and told him this episode of
Fact or Fantasy
would be his last and he wanted out of his contract no matter what it cost. Last, he called his manager and asked him to find a literary agent. He was writing a novel about his experiences in Hollywood. When he finally was able to tell Carrie he was moving back to Texas, he wanted it a done deal. She would no longer be able to argue that his life was in L.A.

On Sunday, he’d borrowed a motorcycle from Jesse and driven to Fort Worth to shop for the perfect engagement ring. He’d spent the remainder of the day worrying about how and when to pop the question.

Apprehension tickled the back of his neck when Iris answered the door with a triumphant grin on her face. A bi-fold screen had been set up, creating a backdrop setting for the filming, and he could only see a shadow of the mystery person sitting on the other side of the screen.

“Come on in,” Iris said, stepping aside.

LaDonna rushed him over to a makeup chair in front of a vanity, and tied a bib around his neck so she wouldn’t get makeup on his clothes. He twisted around, trying to see who was behind the screen, but LaDonna took hold of his head. “Face forward, squirmy worm.”

“Who is it?” he murmured as Iris directed the camera crew in their setup.

“You’ll see soon enough. Be still.” Ladonna tucked on his ear.

“Why is everyone acting so enigmatic?”

“You know Iris. How she likes to make a deal out of everything.”

Mark certainly wasn’t going to miss Iris. She was a terror to work for. He just wanted to get his interview over, so he could go tell Carrie he loved her and was moving to Twilight. Then he’d go down on one knee and tell her what he should have told her eight years ago. That she was the love of his life and he was never going to let her go.

“Iris,” he called, “where’s my questions?”

“They’re on the teleprompter,” she said, coming over to stand next to him, a sly smile on her face.

Something was up. Mark didn’t trust Iris when she was happy. “I don’t get to see the questions first?”

“It would give away the identity of our guest.”

“I’m going to find out who it is as soon as I step in front of that screen. What’s the big secret?”

“You’ll see.” Iris chuckled.

The hairs on the back of Mark’s neck lifted. Who on earth could it be? Obviously, it was some muckraker set to make trouble for Twilight.

“You done?” he asked LaDonna. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the bib from around his neck. Enough of this nonsense. He stalked around the screen.

And stopped in his tracks.

Carrie.

Sitting in the interview chair. Looking pale and nervous.

For one split second his blood ran completely cold. She was giving an interview? She was here to bust the sweetheart myth using their relationship of love gone wrong?

Staggered, he could do nothing but stare at her.

“Surprise,” Iris whispered in his ear.

“Carrie,” Mark said, ignoring Iris. “What are you doing here?”

“Giving us an exclusive interview,” Iris supplied, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Won’t this make for sensational television?” She turned to the cameraman. “Randal, did you get a shot of the look on Mark’s face when he saw Carrie?”

From behind the camera, Randal made the “okay” sign. Mark had been so startled to see Carrie that he hadn’t even noticed the camera was recording. Some newsman he was.

You’re not a newsman anymore. You’ve been cooped into a smiling boob. If he harbored any lingering doubts about leaving
Fact or Fantasy
, they completely evaporated in that moment. He’d already asked Burt Mernit to be let out of his contract; he didn’t have to stay here and do this.

“Have a seat Mark,” Iris said. “I’m conducting today’s interview. Oh and in case you’re thinking of refusing, I’ve talked to Burt. If you don’t want to be sued for breach of contract, you’ll give this interview.”

T
he second she saw the stunned look of betrayal on Mark’s face, Carrie knew granting the interview was a big mistake, but there was no turning back now.

He sat in the chair behind her, his eyes burning into hers.

A poignant bleakness crept over her—bleak as a North Pole blizzard wind. She’d been here before, felt this before. When she’d lied about wanting out of their marriage. She’d been so young and foolish then. What was her excuse now?

“Carrie,” said Iris, who was perched on a third chair in front of their two chairs. There were three cameras. One on her face, one on Mark’s, one on Iris. “You and Mark Leland were high school sweethearts.”

Carrie couldn’t get her breath. The air in the room tasted stale. “I . . .” She swallowed, kept her gaze fixed on Iris so she didn’t have to look at Mark. “Yes.”

Iris shifted her attention to Mark. “And do you confirm this, Mark?”

“I do.”
I do
. The same words he’d spoken at their wedding.

“High school sweethearts,” Iris said directly into the camera. “In a town that romanticizes first love.”

Iris returned to Carrie. “And you bought into the legend. To the point where you and Mark decided to run off to Vegas and get married when you were only seventeen. Is that correct?”

“It is.” Oh God, this was a train wreck.

“But things did not end with a happily-ever-after for you, did they?”

Silently, Carrie shook her head. She felt like she was on trial. She didn’t know it was going to be like this. She could feel the heat of Mark’s stare on her, but she did not dare meet his eyes.

“Please speak up,” Iris urged.

Carrie cleared her throat. “No, they did not.”

“And why is that?”

“We were too young.” She wasn’t going to say anything more. It was the truth, and the rest of the details weren’t anybody’s business but hers and Mark’s. “And the marriage was annulled.”

“In the aftermath of your tattered marriage, did you ever fling a penny into the Sweetheart Fountain and wish to be reunited with Mark?”

“I did,” Carrie confirmed.

To the camera, Iris said, “The sweetheart legend claims that if you toss a penny into the fountain you will be reunited with your first love and be happily married for life.”

“Yes.”

“But the legend did not come true for you, unlike all the other people in your town who claim that it did. Why do you suppose that’s the case?” Iris leaned forward, malicious delight in her eyes.

“Iris,” Mark said, his voice hard as a stone. “You’ve made an erroneous assumption.”

The woman snapped her gaze from Carrie, swiveled her head to face Mark. “And what is that, Mr. Leland?”

“That the course of true love runs smoothly. The sweetheart legend is based on Jon Grant and Rebekka Nash who were separated for fifteen long years. You’re missing the entire point. Just because lovers are separated does not mean they stop loving each other. Sometimes circumstances are beyond their control.” He shifted his gaze from Iris to Carrie. “Or sometimes, in the case of Carrie and me, love is the reason we were separated in the first place.”

Iris looked miffed. “How do you mean?”

“Carrie loved me so much that she put my needs ahead of her own. She knew that if she didn’t convince me to go, then I would not have taken the scholarship I’d been awarded to attend Columbia. I would not have gotten my degree. I would not have this job or the lifestyle that I do today. So she pretended our marriage was a silly mistake, and she did it because she loved me. Did it hurt? Hell, yeah. But I eventually came to realize why she’d done what she’d done. I also figured out just how much she loved me.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Pul-
lease
.”

“She’s doing the same thing right now. That’s why she’s on this show. Not to help you bust some myth, but because she’s under the mistaken impression that I’m better off without her.”

Carrie blinked. Her heart pulsed. Her throat tightened.

Mark stood up, came to stand right in front of her. “Carrie, my love, I’m on to you. I made a mistake by walking away the first time. I let my ego get the better of me. But I know what you’re up to, and I’m not letting you get away with it. I belong here in Twilight with you. Coming home has shown me how much I’ve missed out on.”

Her hands flew to her mouth. She couldn’t speak. Not a word came out.

“I take full responsibility,” he said. “I let my hurt keep me from contacting you, from coming back. But I’m here now. I want to make amends.” Then he hitched up his pant leg and went down on his right knee.