A Life Without Water

by Marci Bolden

  Ignoring the anxiety washing over her like a tsunami of fear, Carol slipped her shoes off and rolled the bottom few inches of her knee-length shorts up. John did the same; then he gripped her hand and took two steps.

  She didn’t. She stood there staring out at the water. So much water. Rushing toward her. Threatening to consume her. Pull her in. Keep her forever.

  Gasping, Carol shook her head slightly.

  John put himself between her and the terrifying view. He cupped her face and brushed his thumb over her cheek like he’d done a thousand times when they were younger. Whenever she needed him to convince her, to give her strength to get through something, he closed the distance between them and put his hand to her cheeks, staring at her intently until she couldn’t see anything else—couldn’t think of anything but him.

  He still had that power. Looking into her eyes, holding her face in his hands, he soothed her somehow. “I’m right here with you. You can do this.”

  She didn’t even realize he was slowly guiding her to the water until a wave washed over her toes. She jumped, blinking at the surprise. “It’s so cold.”

  John stroked her cheek, pulling her attention back to him. “We’re not going that far.”

  Giving her head one sharp shake, she met his gaze. “I don’t think I can.”

  “I’m right here,” he reassured her. “I’m not going anywhere. Look at me.”

  Caroline turned away from her parents’ house to the man sitting behind the steering wheel of his beat-up ’83 Toyota Corolla. “I can’t do this.”

  Squeezing her hand, John offered a comforting smile. “Yes, you can. I’m right here. You’re not doing this alone.”

  “They’re going to kill me.”

  Putting his hand to her cheek, he ran his thumb over her skin, soothing her. “They might be upset, but they aren’t going to kill you. No matter how angry they get, I’m still here. I’ll always be right here. You know that, right? You can count on me no matter what. You’re going to be my wife. We’re going to be a family. Nothing your parents say or do can change that. You’ve always got me.”

  From the moment she’d taken that damned pregnancy test, she’d dreaded telling her parents. She’d wanted to do it over the phone so she wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in their eyes, but John insisted they tell them face-to-face. He wanted to reassure them that he was going to take care of Caroline and the baby.

  Her parents didn’t think much of John. They had expected her to marry a doctor or lawyer. She was going to medical school. What they thought about her marrying a cop had become clear the first time she brought him home to meet them. They sat stiffly through dinner while John tried to woo them with his usual charms. Charms that had fallen flat with her parents.

  Only minutes after John had dropped her off following that first dinner, her roommate had knocked on the bathroom door to tell her she had a phone call. The room didn’t offer much privacy, so she’d huddled in the corner, listening to her mother warn her about “men like John.” Her mother insisted he was too old. Caroline reminded her mother he was only five years older. She said he’d never do anything with his life. Caroline reminded her that he’d already finished the academy and was employed full-time as a police officer. She’d said he was only after one thing. Caroline insisted she was old enough to decide if and when she was ready for sex.

  After twenty minutes of back-and-forth, her mother had sighed and told her she was going to get her heart broken. Then she hung up and never said a bad word about John again. That didn’t stop her from frowning and casting exasperated glances whenever Caroline talked about him.

  And now she was pregnant. Two semesters from finishing her undergrad. A lifetime away from finishing medical school. She’d changed majors, already taking control of her future. She’d already made a new plan for her future. That wouldn’t appease her parents. That wouldn’t stop her mother from crying. That wouldn’t stop her father from storming out and not speaking to her for who the hell knew how long.

  But she had John. Tightening her hold on his hand, she drew another breath.

  John kissed her lightly. “Just remember that no matter what they say or do, they are reacting to the news. They love you, and they’ll love their grandchild. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered when her lip trembled.

  Blinking back her tears, Caroline reached for the door handle. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He followed her to the front door, which she opened without knocking.

  “We’re here,” she called out. She had barely walked into the living room, with John right behind her, when her mother stopped fidgeting with the TV remote. She glanced up and her eyes stopped on Caroline’s face. She immediately turned an accusing glare at John, and Caroline stiffened, certain that her mother had already figured it all out.

  John put his arm around Caroline’s waist and pulled her against him as if he sensed her increased fear. “Hey, Judith. What are you watching?”

  She frowned. “Nothing. I can’t figure out this VCR.”

  John reached for the control, and her mom focused on her. Caroline almost burst into tears. She’d never been able to hide things from her parents. She twisted the ring on her finger, inadvertently drawing her mother’s attention.

  “What is that?” Her eyes grew wide as she stared.

  Caroline was certain she actually saw the woman’s heart break as she lifted her gaze and their eyes met.

  “Oh my God. Are you pregnant?” she whispered.

  Caroline stood immobilized. Her lungs started to burn from the spent oxygen she was holding. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.

  “Oh, Jesus, Caroline.” Her mother put her hand to her chest and took several steps back. “Oh my God.”

  “Judith,” John said in his soothing tone.

  She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “You bastard! What have you done?”

  Heavy footsteps announced her father’s arrival. “What’s going on in here?”

  Judith spun toward her husband. “He got her pregnant.”

  Shame washed over Caroline like hot lava burning her alive. She’d expected to be upset. Nervous. Scared. She hadn’t expected to feel ashamed. As an adult, she had every right to explore her sexuality, especially with the man she’d been dating for almost two years. Even so, knowing that her parents now knew she’d had sex made her feel like she’d been caught stealing something precious from her parents. Not that she’d ever been precious to them. She’d been a box on a checklist so they could continue to fit in with their peers.

  Despite that, or maybe because of it, her mother had a way of punching Caroline in the gut with a look. Caroline didn’t look at her father. She didn’t want to see his reaction. Disappointing him was too much.

  “That’s great,” he said quietly. “What about school?”

  She couldn’t answer. The knot in her stomach had moved to her throat. John answered. Something about her becoming a nurse and them getting married and being a family. Her mother dropped onto the couch and started crying. Her father stormed out, as she’d expected him to.

  John didn’t seem to care what they thought. He put his hand to Caroline’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

  She leaned into him, and he hugged her close, making her feel safe. Making her forget, at least for a moment, how terrified she was.

  “This is far enough.” John pulled his hands from Carol’s face.

  Suddenly aware of the frigid water lapping at the edge of her shorts, she gripped his arm. He pulled his hand free, and she clung to what was left of the comfort he’d brought to her. Inhaling deeply, she fought her encroaching sense of distress as he reached into her pocket and pulled out the small container.

  Clinging to his arm, she listened while John rambled off facts about the Golden Gate Bridge that he’d researched. Things that Katie would have wanted to know. When it was built, that it was the longest suspension bridge in the world. The color
was called International Orange. Over two billion cars had driven over it.

  “It’s amazing, Katie,” he said. “You’d love it here.”

  Carol laid the pink roses she’d carried onto the water before them, and John sprinkled the ashes on top. They watched as the flowers rode the current, floating on the surface, moving farther and farther into the bay. She actually forgot they were standing in the water until something brushed her calf. She squealed, looked down, and then shrieked when whatever it was touched her again.

  Laughing as she practically climbed up his arm, John tried to reassure her, but she’d had enough.

  “Okay, that’s it,” she announced. “I’m done.” She practically ran for shore, squealing as she went, needing to get back on solid ground and away from whatever had discovered her leg. She ignored John’s laughter, not caring if she was making an ass of herself. Even so, by the time she reached the beach, she, too, was laughing at herself. Once her feet were out of the water, she faced the ocean again, shivering as the chill reached her bones. Putting her hand to her brow, she squinted, trying to see the flowers. Every other second or so, little dots would rise on the swells of the water, showing her the path Katie was taking out to sea.

  After about three minutes, John joined her. They watched the water, but the roses were too far out to be seen. As he continued skimming the bay, she admired the bridge in the distance.

  “You know how you said nothing was ever enough for me?” she asked.

  He tore his gaze from the water, as if surprised by her voice. “I didn’t mean that. I was mad.”

  “But you were right. I was turning into my mother, and I hated it. I swore I’d never be that way with Katie. I’d never make her feel like everything she did disappointed me.”

  “Your parents had high expectations because they wanted you to have a good life.”

  The wind caught the bitter laugh that rose from her and carried it away. “My parents wanted me to have the life they decided I should have to make the best possible impression on their friends. All they ever cared about was their social status. Even after I married Tobias, they cast those same disparaging glances whenever we visited. Tobias was brilliant and kind and successful, but he wasn’t good enough. I told him it wasn’t him, it was my past, but I knew the truth. Dad nearly had a coronary when I brought a Black man home to visit. Mom quietly reassured him I was rebounding and would find a nice boy to settle down with. She didn’t say White boy, but that’s what she meant. They accepted him eventually, but the wedding was interesting. Mom tipped his brother when he brought her a refill on her champagne. He was being nice, but she thought he was hired help.”

  John laughed, and Carol faced him, not really seeing what was funny. The memory had always embarrassed her. How could her mother have been that insensitive?

  “Come on, Caroline,” John said, and chuckled. “That is such a Judith thing to do. Did you correct her?”

  She sighed. “No. I never did, did I? I always sank into the background hoping not to be seen.”

  “You’re not like that anymore. You’re strong now.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Scanning the bay, she analyzed the self-doubt that seemed to be festering in the dark recesses of her mind. She’d left that feeling of inadequacy behind years ago, but the last few months had seemed to give it the energy it needed to start eating away at her again. “Tobias always pushed me—”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t give Tobias credit for you becoming the person you were always meant to become. You know, if it weren’t for my interference, as your father called it, you would have finished medical school and been an amazing pediatrician. You were always destined for greatness, Caroline, and you found it. Just not the way you thought you would. That has nothing to do with me or your parents or Tobias. It’s who you’ve always been, who you were always going to be. I’m glad you had a great life with him, but Tobias didn’t make that life for you. He made it with you. You’ve had this strength and this courage all along. You had a lot of bullshit to weed through to find it.”

  Looking at the bridge again, she tried to believe his words, but they felt too far from the truth to accept. “Want to know my deepest, darkest secret?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She swallowed hard before confessing, “I didn’t cry when my father died. Not once. Not even at the funeral.” She looked at John. “What kind of daughter doesn’t cry for her father?”

  “The kind who had a father who made it impossible to mourn for him.”

  “I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t looking at me like I’d failed him. He always wanted a son, you know. Someone to carry on his name and take over his business. I was a disappointment the moment I was born. He never forgave me for that.”

  He brushed back a strand of hair that had broken free from her bun and was dancing around her face. “Speaking as a father, I have to disagree. A father’s love isn’t always easy to understand, but it’s real and it’s strong. He pushed you because he wanted what was best for you. He didn’t realize how hard he was pushing. He loved you. He just wasn’t very good at showing it.”

  “I’d like to believe that, but I don’t.”

  He brushed his hand over her head. “And Judith? Do you think she loves you?”

  “In her own way, I suppose. I talk to her once a month out of obligation, but I don’t even know what to say to her half the time. I can’t tell her the truth. She’d never understand.”

  “What truth?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, but the sincerity in his question pulled the words out of her. He’d always had the power to make her talk when she didn’t want to. That was one of the reasons she’d fallen as hard for him as she had. He seemed interested, really interested, and she’d never been able to avoid his questions.

  The confession pushed forth before she could consider stopping it. “I’m so broken right now. Ever since Tobias died… No. Ever since Katie died. I’ve put my head down and pushed through, but when I stop and look up, I realize I’m so incredibly broken, and I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “You fix this by letting yourself feel the pain. You have to mourn. Really mourn. For Katie, and your father, and Tobias. For the children you lost. You can’t steamroll your way through grief, Caroline. If you bury it to deal with later, eventually it consumes you.”

  “Yeah,” she said around the sob trying to push its way up from her chest. “I’m realizing that.”

  Putting his hands on her face, he forced her to look at him. “Katie’s dead.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Your father is dead.”

  “John.” She tried to pull away, but he held her.

  “Your husband is dead.”

  “Stop it.”

  “You can push the pain away all you want, but that doesn’t change anything. You can bury yourself in work, but that will never fix what is broken. That won’t change the fact that you were never able to have another baby.”

  She widened her eyes. “Shut up.”

  “If you want to fix what you think is broken, the first thing you have to do is acknowledge what broke you in the first place.”

  “Save your AA bullshit for someone else.”

  He grabbed her arm when she started to walk away. She turned and shoved him, cursed at him, and shoved again. He didn’t let go. Anger boiled to the surface for what she thought must have been the hundredth time since he’d reappeared in her life.

  She shoved a third time. Then a fourth and a fifth. He didn’t release her.

  “You’re an asshole,” she choked out. “You are such an asshole.”

  “I know,” he said, and tugged her closer.

  She wanted to escape his hold, but she didn’t have enough fight left in her. He enveloped her in his arms and hugged her close.

  The years that had passed and all the anger that she’d held didn’t seem to m
atter. She found the same comfort in his hug now as she had when she had been terrified of telling her parents she was pregnant. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her face in his chest as he squeezed her tight while her body shook with the strength of her sobs.

  She hated how good it felt for him to hold her, but at the same time, she burrowed deeper into his arms.

  He’d cut open every one of her wounds, releasing years of emotional infection that had been building inside. She didn’t even know which loss she was crying over and supposed it didn’t matter. She could take her pick. When she was able to control her crying, she leaned back, taking big gulping breaths.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “No.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt. “You deserve all those snot stains.”

  “I’ll wear them with pride. Sit.” John took her hand and pulled her down next to their shoes. He draped his arm around her shoulder and they stared out at the water. “You never would have been like your mother with Katie. You were that way with me,” he deadpanned. “But I deserved it. You never would have been that way with her.”

  “I hope not, but when I look back at how I was…bitter. I think it would have been inevitable. She would have resented me as much as I resent my parents.”

  “No.”

  “You were the fun one. I was the enforcer.”

  “I was irresponsible. Look where that got us.”

  She searched the waves, once again trying to see the pink roses that were long gone. That seemed symbolic somehow. Katie was out of her sight and no matter how much she searched, she couldn’t be found. “Poor kid never had a chance with us as her parents, did she?”

  “We loved her. We both loved her more than anything. She knew that. That’s more than a lot of kids have. She would have turned out okay. And she would have loved you. She would have loved both of us.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure she would have.” Silence fell between them again before Carol gently nudged him. “I want ice cream. You want ice cream?”