by Marci Bolden
“Oh. Traveling, then?”
“Yeah. He’s, um…he wanted to see some things.”
Sympathy filled the attendant’s eyes and she used a softer, less clipped tone. “I’m glad you got a chance to.”
Carol slid John’s credit card and ID across the counter as she peeked back to check on him. He sat in the wheelchair, staring out the window at the mountains in the distance. The day had been long; his exhaustion showed in his short temper.
When the sale was final, Carol joined him, taking a second to try to pinpoint what had him enthralled. “What are you looking at?”
“I was wrong. You shouldn’t move to Seattle.”
She had adapted to the sudden changes in topic. Even so, this one threw her. “No?”
“You shouldn’t move anywhere. You should sell everything and never stop moving.” A tear fell down his cheek. “There’s so much out there I’ll never see. So much Katie never saw. You have to see it for us, Caroline. You’re the only one left.”
Carol bent down to get a better look at his face. “Nobody ever sees everything. The world is a big place full of mystery. That’s what makes it amazing. Nobody ever sees everything, John.”
“Can we walk for a while before getting back on the road?” His lips quirked. “You can walk. I’ll roll.”
“Sounds fair.” She handed him his card and ID, then opened the door and waited while he found his groove with the wheels and was able to maneuver himself out of the store. “Want me to push?”
“No.” He was winded but seemed determined enough to not accept his weakness yet.
They crossed the street toward the center of town and window-shopped, admiring various locally made keepsakes. Carol gasped as they stopped at a display of turquoise jewelry spread on fake busts, wrists, and fingers covered in black felt. She stared at one bracelet in particular, mesmerized by the row of coral beads set in antique sterling silver with tribal patterns stamped on the edges of the cuff. The simplicity was captivating.
“A little help here, Caroline.”
She tore her attention from the window to find John trying to open the door and back up in his wheelchair at the same time. She didn’t get a chance to argue, to tell him not to go into the store. Someone rushed to the door and held it open for him. He thanked the man and rolled inside.
She offered a less enthusiastic thank-you and followed behind him. “Did you see the price tag?”
“Says the lady who drives a Mercedes motorhome for fun.”
Her objection was interrupted by an overzealous employee who seemingly appeared from out of nowhere.
John let the young woman know how she could help before Carol could dismiss her. “My wife would like to try on the bracelet in the window. The red one.”
The girl walked away, and Carol scowled at him. “Stop telling people I’m your wife.”
“Ex-wife raises questions.”
“Friend doesn’t.”
He waggled his brows. “Wife’s friend?”
She didn’t know why she was surprised at his wicked humor, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “God, you are awful.”
“Ma’am,” the saleswoman said, drawing Carol and John back to the jewelry.
Carol hesitated before accepting the bracelet, slipping the cuff around her wrist. The bright red stones shone like fire against the stamped silver. The piece was simple but elegant. She loved it. Absolutely loved it. She didn’t have to say so; her cheeks hurt from smiling.
John reached in his pocket and handed his debit card to the woman.
“John,” Carol chastised.
“Consider it a wedding present.”
“Oh, are you newlyweds?” the woman asked.
“Not exactly,” John offered. “I’m sucking up for years of misdeeds.”
Carol shook her head when the woman flicked uncertain eyes toward her. She seemed more than happy to dismiss John’s awkward joke as she rang up the purchase and removed the tag from the bracelet.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Carol informed him as they left the store.
“Which part?”
“Any of it, but mostly spending five hundred dollars on a bracelet for your ex-wife.”
He didn’t seem fazed. “I can spend my money on you now or you can fight the collectors for it when I’m dead.”
“I don’t want your money, John.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because my will names one beneficiary: Caroline Elizabeth Denman.”
She stopped walking. “What?”
“Who else was I going to name?”
Looking around the main street, she didn’t see the shops or the people strolling by. Her mind was processing the implication of his words. “Bert. A charity. Anyone else but me. Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re my wife.” His happy mood faded in an instant. “I don’t care what you say. You’re my wife and when I die, everything I own should go to you.”
Her mouth went dry. “I don’t want it.”
“Well. Tough.”
“John, I don’t—”
He pinned her down with his stare, effectively ending the argument. When a few moments of tense silence passed between them, he pointed to a storefront down the block. “Let’s have a coffee before getting back in the RV.”
They didn’t speak as they headed down the street and waited in line to place their orders. When they got their drinks, Carol carried them while John navigated himself to the patio. She moved a chair from a table in the shade to make room for his wheelchair. Sitting across from him, she was content to take in the scenery as they sipped their hot drinks, but she felt John staring at her.
Heaving a sigh, she turned her attention to him. “What?”
“I knew you were going to leave me.”
She felt her stomach drop, instantly fearing another episode like the one they’d had when he accused her of cheating on him. She didn’t want that scene to play out in public.
“As soon as we lost Katie, I knew I’d lost you, too. I knew you were only staying for her. I wasn’t surprised when I woke up in the morning and you were gone. I saw it coming.”
The pain of the past knotted in her stomach. She focused on her cup. “Our marriage was over long before Katie died.”
“I know. I sat on the couch looking at the spot where I’d last seen Katie’s ashes and tried to figure out where you’d go, but I came up empty. I knew you’d never go home to your parents, but I couldn’t remember the names of any of your friends.” His already sad eyes seemed to darken even more. “That was when I started to think that maybe I hadn’t been the victim in our marriage after all. Maybe you had a point when you called me selfish. How could I not even know who to call to check on you?”
“You were selfish, John, but I didn’t disclose a lot about my life outside of our house to you. I liked to keep you out of that part of my life. My work was my safe place away from you, and I didn’t want you involved. I was selfish, too. Just in a different way.”
“I spiraled. My drinking got so bad I had to take an extended leave from the force and almost lost the house. Mom and Dad had to step in and get me back on track.” He looked at her. “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. You were right to leave. I’m glad you found the life you wanted to have with Tobias. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
“Then why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to know that I was broken. I was broken when you found me, and I was broken when you left me. It was never your job to put me back together, but for some reason, you’re the only person who ever tried. Maybe it isn’t saying much, but the only time I ever felt whole was with you. It’s not your fault you couldn’t save me. I fought you every step of the way. You stuck around a lot longer than I thought you would. Thank you for that.”
“You know, John, you weren’t the only one that was broken. My parents had beaten my ego down to the point that I barely had the confidence to string two sentences toge
ther when we met. You gave me the courage to crawl out of the shadows. I’d never felt like a real person until I met you. You convinced me I was worthy of being.” She rested her hand on his. “Thank you for that.”
“We could have had everything we wanted. Man, did we screw up.”
“We’re not looking back anymore, remember? We’re moving forward.”
“I don’t know how much time I have left. I have to say all these things I should have so you know.”
“I do know, John.” She squeezed his arm. “I know. I appreciate you thinking of me when making your will, but you should have talked to me about it first. I’m assuming when you say you left everything to me, you’re including the house in that?”
“Yeah.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to stop the image of the run-down ranch from filling her mind. “I don’t ever want to see that house again. I don’t ever want to think about that house again. I don’t know how you stayed there without going insane. She died there.”
“It was all I had left of our family. I couldn’t have left if I’d wanted to. When we get to Dayton, if I get to Dayton, I’ll change it. Okay?”
Frowning, she sank back into her chair. “No. The last thing you need is the stress of that. Who’s the executor?”
“Bert.”
“I’ll talk to him. We’ll figure it out.”
John’s lips sank as he stared at his coffee. “I keep making things worse for you, don’t I?”
She covered his hand. “Oh, John. Nothing’s ever been easy between us. Why would that change now?”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back. “I’m tired. Let’s head back.”
Twelve
Turning her face to John, Carol blinked. He’d said something, but she hadn’t heard him. She’d been lost in thought as she stared at the pine trees surrounding the visitor center outside Devil’s Tower. They seemed taller than most trees, like they were in competition with the jutting rock. They didn’t sway with the breeze that made her hair tickle her cheek or cooled the sweat on her neck. They seemed too sturdy for that, too focused on outshining the Tower behind them. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Say that again.”
“I said you’re a million miles away.”
“Yes, I was.”
“What are you thinking?”
She took a drink of her coffee to delay, not really wanting to ask, but knowing she had to. Setting the bitter drink down, she met his gaze. “Have you planned a funeral?”
“I’m retired PD. The department will handle it.”
“Should I let Bert know if…”
“If I die before we get to Dayton, tell the coroner to call the department. They’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to.”
She nodded. “Where…where are you going to be buried?”
“I’m not. I’m getting cremated. Like Katie.” He focused on his hands. “Actually, I’m glad you brought this up. Now that we’re better, do you think you could…” He gave her his crooked little smile. “It sounds creepy as hell, but maybe you could ask them to put our ashes together. Mine and what’s left of Katie’s.”
“It’s not creepy,” she said. “Morbid, but not creepy.”
He watched a group of tourists hiking toward the trail. “Don’t leave me sitting on a shelf for twenty-four years, though, okay?”
“I won’t. I’ll hang on to you for a while and then…flush you down the toilet like you deserve.”
She smiled at the sound of his laugh.
“Good luck explaining that to the plumber.”
Her lips fell as she returned the topic to his demise. “What do you want me to do with you, John?”
“This. Do this, Caroline. Go places. See things. Take a little bit of us with you when you do.”
“John, I—”
He grabbed her hand, silently demanding that she look at him. When she did, he said, “Don’t hide yourself away in that office for the rest of your life. Please. That’s not living. We’ll be gone. Tobias is gone. You are not. Don’t live like you’ve already died. Live for us. For all of us.”
Swallowing the bundle of raw emotion in her chest, she choked out, “You make it sound easy. I’m the one that will be left behind. I’m always the one left behind.”
“Because you’re the strong one. You always were.”
She didn’t want to be strong. She wanted to curl in a ball and let all the storms of her life pass. Considering how rapidly John’s health was decreasing, she might get the opportunity sooner rather than later. Pushing herself up, she tossed her cup in the bin and wiped her hands down the front of her shorts. “Come on. Let’s do this and get to Mount Rushmore before you tire out.”
John clutched her hand and stopped her movements to admire the bracelet on her wrist. “I never would have been able to buy you things like Tobias did.”
“When I married Tobias, he couldn’t buy me things. We were up to our eyeballs in student loans for years. He worked hard to turn that around. You worked hard, too, John. You had the career you always wanted.” Caressing his hand, she reassured him, “Success isn’t about income any more than affection is about gifts.”
Happiness shone in his eyes. He looked more at ease today than he had since they’d started this crazy journey. “It’s a pretty bracelet.”
“It is. Thank you.”
“Do you have Katie?”
She patted her pocket before stepping behind him and releasing the brakes on his wheelchair. He sat unspeaking, taking in the scenery as she pushed him along the flat part of the path. They didn’t make it far before she stopped to survey their surroundings. Pine trees shaded the area, but the base of Devil’s Tower loomed to the west. The view wasn’t as spectacular as it would be farther up the trail, but they’d gone far enough.
Pushing him to the side of the trail to allow others to pass easily, she set the brakes and squatted beside him. Holding out the container, she smiled up at him, waiting for him to start his history lesson. When he finished talking about igneous rock and Native American legends, he gripped the container. After a few moments of watching him struggle to turn the top, Carol took the bottle. He didn’t argue as she twisted the top off and handed it back to him.
Moving out of the way, letting him sprinkle Katie’s ashes on the pine-needle-covered ground, she held her breath. No flock of birds took flight this time. It was a silly notion, one she hadn’t realized she was clinging to. Still, she was a little disappointed that they didn’t experience the same display they’d watched in Yellowstone. Turning her attention to John, though, she found him searching the sky as well. Ruffling his hair, she leaned down and gave him a half hug.
“Let’s go,” she said. “We’ve got a couple hours’ drive to get to Rushmore.”
At the RV, she helped him up the stairs and to the bench at the table. He was finding that seat easier to get in and out of than the passenger seat. Funny how a week ago, she would have loved for him to stay at the table and let her drive in peace. Now that he didn’t have much choice, she missed having him next to her. Sure, his humming was annoying, and he was always touching the AC and radio controls, but he was company. More company than she’d had since Tobias had died.
She climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up. The drive to Mount Rushmore was unnervingly serene. Every time she glanced in the mirror to check on John, he was staring out the window, his face devoid of any expression. He was involved in some serious contemplation, and she dreaded finding out what it was about.
After paying the fee to get into the park, she steered the RV as close as she could get to the monument. She really should have requested a handicap parking pass from Dr. Collins. The thought hadn’t occurred to her in the stress of preparing for the trip. It was a testament to how shaken she’d been at having John in her life again. She’d never been one to forget the small details.
John frazzled her as much now as he had back then. He’d always had a way of knocking her off balance. No one else h
ad ever been able to do that. Not even Tobias. No, Tobias centered her, helped her focus. John? John was like a tornado to her heart, mind, and soul. He shook her up. Sometimes that was a good thing, an amazing thing, but usually the insanity he brought ended with her falling flat on her face.
Sadly, she was beginning to accept this time was no different. He’d come in like a whirlwind, making a mess of things, and then he’d disappear as quickly. As always, the mess would remain for Carol to clean up. This time cleaning up after him wouldn’t be as easy as tossing away beer cans and empty food containers.
Clearing her throat, she turned her seat. “We’re here.”
He tore his gaze from the window and gave her a slight nod.
She moved back to the table and took the seat across from him instead of grabbing his chair. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s just… It’s sinking in, you know.”
“Yeah. For me, too.”
A tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m dying, Caroline.”
“I know.” Laying her hands on the table, palms up, she offered him as much comfort as she could.
He clung to her with so much desperation in his eyes, it stole her breath away. “I’m glad she’s not here. I wouldn’t want her to see me slipping away.”
Carol bit the inside of her lip and swallowed hard to stop herself from sobbing. “You were her hero, John. Bigger than life. This wouldn’t have changed that in her mind.”
“It does in mine,” he whispered. “I don’t think…” He looked at their entwined hands. “I don’t think I can fill the container anymore. You’re going to have to do it.”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. It was only fair, really. He’d filled the container with ash at every other stop. She’d known she would have to take over at some point. Swallowing hard, she got up and put her mind on autopilot, gathering the ashes and a few paper towels. Sitting back at the table, she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly.
“It’s not that bad,” he said. “Just use your fingertips to grab the spoon.”
