A Life Without Water

by Marci Bolden

  “I like them,” he said. “Your family.”

  “I like them, too.”

  “Mary didn’t cry every time I entered the room like Judith did.”

  Carol giggled at his observation. Glancing at him, she was glad to see him smiling as well. His face had gotten thinner; his clothes hung noticeably looser than they had when they’d started the journey. She hadn’t wanted to accept what that meant, but her heart grew heavy with the knowledge that he was rapidly losing his battle.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m dying.”

  “Didn’t realize I was.”

  “The seizure last night…” He looked out the window at the Arch in the distance. “I’m ready, Caroline.”

  “Ready for…” She trailed off as understanding took hold.

  “This is the last stop. The last thing I can do for Katie. I’ve done everything I promised her I’d do. I quit drinking. I made peace with you. I forgave myself. And we’re about to finish her list. There’s nothing else for me to do here. I’m ready.”

  She pulled her lips between her teeth and bit hard to try to stave off her tears. “That’s good, John. It’s good to be ready.”

  They didn’t speak again until she’d parked and was helping him into his chair. He shielded his eyes until she slid his sunglasses onto his face.

  “Better?”

  “The light hurts a little.”

  “It’s bright today.”

  “That’s good,” he said as she started pushing him toward the Arch. “She liked the sunshine.”

  “She liked the rain, too. Remember how she’d wear those red rain boots and jump in every puddle she could find.”

  “Splish-splash, Mama’s gonna make me take a bath,” he sang, remembering Katie’s chant.

  Carol’s heart seized for a moment. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

  “She was such a mix of us, wasn’t she?” His voice wobbled, filled with emotion. “An angel like you and a mischievous devil like me.”

  “She was a handful sometimes,” Carol admitted. “Just like Daddy.”

  He swiped at his face as she pushed him to the edge of the grass and set his brakes. Looking up at the Arch, he sat staring for some time as Carol squatted next to him.

  “That’s it, kitty cat. The last place on your list. Isn’t it great?” Holding his hand out, he waited for Carol to take it. “Mommy and I miss you very much. We’re so happy we made this trip together.” Looking at the woman beside him, he smiled as much as he seemed to be able to manage. “You should tell her about this one, Mommy. This is your home. You should tell her about it.”

  Carol wiped at her face and swallowed to steady her voice before telling Katie what the Arch symbolized and how tall it was and how it had been built. When she finished, she opened the container. Instead of sprinkling the ashes, she put the container in John’s weak fingers. With her hand on his, she helped him empty Katie’s remains into the grass.

  A sob ripped from his throat, causing one to leave Carol’s as well. Turning to him, she leaned up enough to pull him into a hug. His arms, weak as they were, went around her, holding her as they supported each other now, as they should have done twenty-four years prior.

  It was a few years late, but they were finally mourning their daughter as they should have done—together.

  Fourteen

  The drive from St. Louis to Dayton took longer than Carol expected. Between construction and increased traffic, the time was closer to seven when she saw buildings looming in the distance. Every highway sign telling her how much farther she had to go before reaching Dayton made her stomach clench a little tighter. As evidence of the city started to pop up around them, she glanced at John. He had refused to go to bed but had fallen asleep in the passenger seat somewhere east of Indianapolis and hadn’t stirred since. However, he seemed to sense they were getting close and started to stir.

  “Hey,” he said a few minutes later. He blinked before looking around. “Are we home?”

  Staring at the road ahead, she tightened her hold on the steering wheel. “I…I can’t take you there. I’m going to find a hotel.”

  He took a moment to process her words. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. Not right now.”

  “It’s okay.” He looked out the window again. The tension in the RV hadn’t been this thick since their first days of traveling together. The peace that had somehow settled between them had turned into something else. The stress wasn’t necessarily between them but was definitely there, like a riptide hiding below the calm surface, waiting to pull them in.

  Her awareness of her surroundings heightened. The streets were the same, some of the buildings had barely changed, but the city had evolved into something more modern. The sense of doom was the same, though. The strangling hold she’d always felt in the city returned, shaking her down to her core.

  She hated this place. For many reasons.

  Carol shook her head hard, dislodging the ghosts from her mind.

  “Are you okay?” John asked.

  “Yeah.” Her voice cracked, exposing the lie in her brief answer.

  “If you clutch the steering wheel any tighter, you’re gonna break it.”

  She forced her fingers to relax. “I swear to God, I can still feel my father here. Looking down his nose at me like he always did. You know the only time I ever came back here was for his funeral. When Mom called to let me know she’d decided to sell the house and move to Florida, I was relieved. I’d dreaded having to settle her estate and sell that place. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that now.”

  John looked at the bottle of water in his hand for a few moments before saying, “I was there.”

  “You were where?” she asked, creasing her brow.

  “Your father’s funeral.”

  The bottom seemed to drop out of her stomach. “What? You’re just now telling me this?”

  He shrugged and turned toward the windshield. “When I saw your dad’s obituary, I knew you’d be at the funeral. I had my chance to confront you for leaving like you had. I had this whole speech in my head, ready to tell you what a shitty person you were. When I walked in, that all faded away. My first thought was that you were even more beautiful than when you left, but then I noticed how you looked so…numb. I knew that look. That was the same look you had after Katie died. You were pushing to get through the service so you didn’t break.” He smiled sadly. “I couldn’t… It would have been cruel of me to pick a fight when you were grieving your father. I sat back and watched you.”

  “That’s creepy, John.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I’d always known you were too good for me, but seeing you standing picture-perfect next to your mother proved it. Your hair was perfect, your suit was perfect, you smiled and nodded on cue. That’s what was really creepy. You looked like a Stepford daughter.”

  She glanced at him. “I don’t doubt that. Even though he was in a coffin, I was terrified of misstepping and embarrassing him.”

  “Tobias wasn’t there.”

  Her brief amusement faded. “No. If you read the obituary, you know my mother left out the fact that I was married. Survived by his devoted wife Judith and their daughter Caroline. Most people include their children’s spouses. But nope. Not a single mention. Not even a note that my last name was Denman. Just Caroline. I didn’t take offense—that was expected—but I did take the hint. Dad didn’t want Tobias at his funeral any more than he wanted us to visit at Christmas. Not that I would have. I was perfectly happy to spend holidays with Tobias’s family.”

  “Was Tobias angry?”

  “No. I think he was relieved when I told him it was probably best if I went on my own. My mom was better at hiding her disapproval, but you know how Dad was. Nothing brought him greater joy than letting me know how disappointed he was in me.”

  “Did he do that heavy sigh thing wh
enever Tobias walked in the room?”

  Carol hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “Yes. Every time.”

  “He did that to me, too. Never failed. Sometimes I’d leave the room and walk back in to hear his reaction.”

  Carol laughed. “God, he was such a jerk.” She glanced over, and her smile softened. “Thank you for not approaching me. Being back here was hard enough. That would have been too much.”

  “I know. I saw it on your face.” He stared at her for several seconds. “You said you didn’t mourn for your father. I would disagree. You were shaken by his death.”

  “I said I didn’t cry. I was shaken, mostly because he’s always seemed indomitable. I never considered that he could die someday. That seemed impossible. He went without a fight. Mom said he was there one minute and gone the next. I would have expected him to fight.”

  He looked out the window again. “Sometimes there’s no fight to be had. I could have tried surgery or chemo, but the doctors said the odds weren’t with me. Why spend the rest of my life in a hospital or sick from treatment? That seemed pointless.”

  “It might have worked.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Besides, this was worth it. This trip with you and Katie. This was all I ever wanted. Well.” He scoffed. “I would have preferred she not be in an urn when we made it to all her places. This was worth not being in a hospital. I’d rather be here with you.”

  She glanced at him. She had to admit she wasn’t nearly as offended by his presence as she had been two weeks ago. “I’m glad. I guess.” She smiled, and he snickered in response.

  He exhaled, forcing the air through tight lips, accentuating the sound. “Things are winding down. Don’t you think?”

  She considered his words for a moment before deciding he meant his health. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Are you leaving? Now that I’m home.”

  She forced her gaze to stay on the road as she inhaled. “I don’t know. I can stay. If you want.”

  “I do. But I don’t want to…you know.”

  “I know. I’m not ready to face that house yet.”

  “You’ve had a pretty rough year already.”

  “Yeah. I can handle it, John. Just…not yet.”

  He gave one firm nod. “Of course you can. You’re the strongest person I ever met.”

  She laughed softly. “Hardly.”

  “You are. Don’t ever doubt that, okay? Don’t ever think you weren’t enough. Because you were.”

  Blinking her tears away, she swallowed her emotions. “I gotta drive here, John. This trip won’t end well if I can’t see through my tears. Maybe we can hold this chat for a few minutes, huh?”

  “Sure. It’ll keep.”

  She took an exit a few miles from the neighborhood where the little ranch house she’d used to live in nestled. Pulling into the first decent chain hotel she found, she parked. “I’ll be back.”

  His only response was a slight nod of his head. Taking her purse, she entered the lobby and smiled at the receptionist as she asked for a handicap-accessible room with two queens. Relief settled in her heart to hear there was a room available. She hadn’t realized how much she’d feared not being able to find a place to sleep and having no choice but to take John home.

  “Got a room, huh?” John asked when she climbed in through the side door instead of getting into the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

  “I am disappointed. Maybe you could take me home.”

  She unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his chair. When he was facing her, she shook her head. “Call Bert if you want to go home. I’m sure he’ll come get you. I am not ready. I’ve already said that.” She took a quick assessment, making sure his feet were square under him. “Ready?” They maneuvered gradually until John was out of the RV and seated in the chair.

  His lips twitched with a weak grin. “You should call Dr. Collins and tell him I made it home. No doubt he lost a bet on that one.”

  Carol ignored his bad joke. A few minutes later, she dropped one overnight bag with clothes and toiletries for both of them in his lap and started pushing him toward the entrance. “I’m starving. Let’s figure out something for delivery. My treat.”

  “Pizza,” John said without hesitation. “I don’t know how you never eat pizza. I’ve gone two weeks without pepperoni, and I feel like I’m dying.” He rolled his head back to look up at her. “Get it? I said—”

  “I heard what you said, John. Yet another death joke. Funny. Do you have a preference on where I order?”

  “Nope, as long as you get stuffed crust and extra pepperoni.”

  She stopped at room 114 and used the keycard to unlock the door. Stepping in, she waited for him to maneuver his way inside, which took so long she almost gave in and helped, but she resisted the urge. For both their sakes, she really needed him to be independent as long as possible. Finally he was in far enough that she could let the door close.

  “I’m going to order dinner and then freshen up. Do you need the bathroom first?”

  “Naw,” he said, scanning the room. “I’m good. Nice digs, Dr. Denman. This must have cost a pretty penny.”

  Carol ignored his assessment as she grabbed the hotel-provided local guide off the desk and picked a pizza place. After placing the order, she went to the restroom and used cool water to splash some of the weariness away. When she stood up and patted her skin dry, obvious signs of exhaustion remained.

  No wonder Mary and Elijah had been worried. She really did look like hell. She felt like hell, too. She hadn’t been treating her body right the last few weeks. She needed to take a run to clear her head and get her muscles moving. Then maybe she could get some real sleep and get rid of the bags and dark circles that had taken up residence under her eyes.

  Until then, any attempt at making herself appear any less miserable was futile. Folding the towel, she set it aside and left the room. John was sitting in his chair, staring out the window. The only thing visible in their view was the parking lot, but he didn’t seem to be seeing that.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He took a moment, as if considering his answer, before nodding. “Tomorrow, okay? Take me home tomorrow.”

  Carol swallowed. “Tomorrow is…”

  “The day she died.”

  Twenty-four years. “I don’t think… John, I don’t want…”

  Turning in the wheelchair, he met her gaze. “You can’t hide from her forever.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “You’ve been hiding from everything your entire life,” he said quietly before facing the window again.

  She opened her mouth to push back. He was the one who had insisted she was strong—the strongest person he’d ever met. But then she closed it and simply glared at him instead. They could go back and forth for hours if she didn’t end the fight. She knew that from plenty of experience. “I’m going to go grab my gym bag so I can run after dinner.”

  “You shouldn’t exercise on a full stomach,” he called as she marched toward the door.

  Turning, she managed to bite back the words that wanted to rip from her mouth. Instead, she counted to three and said, “Thanks for the advice. I’ll consider it.” She would have jerked the door shut, but the damn thing had a hydraulic brace at the top to stop the door from closing too fast. Damn it.

  She stormed to the RV and grabbed the bag from the compartment and slammed that door. That one slammed fine. Dropping the strap over her shoulder, she stared at the hotel entrance, not really interested in going back to her room. She wasn’t going to fight with him anymore. The man was dying right before her eyes, she couldn’t keep fighting with him, but damned if he didn’t push every single button.

  She eased down in a chair in the lobby and tried to tell herself that being home couldn’t be any easier for John than it was for her. Their journey had ended. He’d said goodbye to his daughter. The only thing he had left to look forward to was
dying.

  That wasn’t easy. That couldn’t be easy. He didn’t have much time left. She needed to be patient and help him through it. And obviously that meant finding the courage to take him home.

  She needed patience and courage. Unfortunately, both were a lot easier to find in theory than in her current reality.

  The doors slid open and a pizza-delivery man walked in.

  “Is that for one fourteen?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She stood and signed the credit card receipt the man held out to her before accepting the dinner. Carrying it and her gym bag, she went back to the room. John hadn’t moved. “Pizza’s here.”

  “I want to go home.”

  She eased the box on the table in the corner of the room. “Tomorrow.”

  “Why? Why are we waiting?”

  “Because I’m not ready. If you want to go home,” she said as calmly as she could manage, “call Bert.”

  He was quiet for a moment, as if debating the option. “Tomorrow. Promise me.”

  She sighed. “I’m not promising anything, John.” Turning, she stared at the back of his head. “That house is tied to a lot of really bad memories for me. You’ve had twenty-four years to learn how to be there without Katie. I’m not ready. I need you to understand that.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her. “You shouldn’t have left.”

  “Are we back to this? Really?”

  Looking down, he stopped himself from saying whatever was on his tongue. She thought that was for the best, but that didn’t stop her from pushing the issue.

  “I left, John. I walked out. I can’t change that. I wouldn’t change that. Maybe you never let go of us, but I did, and I don’t think we need to rehash all the reasons why. We’ve done this. We’ve settled this. I did what you wanted. I drove you to all those places and we said our goodbyes. I deserve time to gather myself before I have to face the place where my daughter died.” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she was damn near yelling by the time she finished.