“Hello?”
“Hey, Nicole.” He forced a smile onto his face, hoping she wouldn’t hear the raw cut of pain he couldn’t drive away. He dug one of his shoes deeply into the sand.
“Who is this?” she asked, yawning.
The smile died, and he suddenly wondered if he’d made a huge mistake. “Ummm, it’s Jordan Carroway. Perhaps you don’t remember me.” At that moment, his mind flashed back to the delivery room when he’d stood in for her loser husband. “Maybe I should let you go.” Again his finger hovered over the buttons.
“No, wait, I remember.” Her answer was much quicker. “I’m sorry. I was just taking a nap, so I wasn’t fully awake.”
Jordan chuckled. “Napping in the middle of the day? Are you getting old, Nicole?”
She, too, laughed. “Some days I feel like it.”
“That’s what kids will do to you.” He thought of the baby that the nurse had thrust into his arms. How right it had felt, even though the little girl hadn't been his. He'd never forgotten the way Nicole had looked at him when held her daughter.
“I’d have to agree with you there,” she said. “So what’s up?”
Jordan heard rustling in the background, and he assumed Nicole was sitting up in bed. “It’s been kind of a tough couple of months. My dad passed away.”
A moment of silence. Then Nicole said, “I’m so sorry, Jordan. I remember what that’s like.”
“Yeah, that’s why I called. I just wanted to talk to someone who’d been through it.” He swallowed hard and noticed the wind had eased the bag from beneath his leg and threatened to blow it away, so he put it back and applied more pressure to keep it still. Of course, he was lying to Nicole. He could have talked to his sister or his mom. Instead, he'd wanted to talk to her because something about her voice seemed to make everything more bearable. He'd never understood that, but he accepted it for what it was.
“How long ago did he die?”
“About a month,” Jordan said, trying not to think back to that moment, but no matter what, Jordan found himself reliving those last few moments when his father had been alive, lying on the carpet as Jordan administered CPR.
“I’m really, really sorry,” Nicole said, her voice sounding slightly breathless. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” He looked out at the rolling ocean, amazed by its size. Just one more way he felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. “I was just sitting on the beach where my dad wanted me to scatter his ashes.”
As if in response to his words, the breeze tried to lift the bag once more, but Jordan kept it flat against the ground because the last thing he wanted to have to do was get up and chase it.
“That’s interesting. “My dad wasn’t half so adventurous,” Nicole replied.
Jordan shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, well, that adventurous streak didn’t set so well with my mom. She about had a bird when she read the note he’d stapled to his will stating that he wanted to be cremated. I thought she was going to have a heart attack herself, right there on the spot.”
That, too, was a tough image for Jordan to get out of his head, and he felt that in honoring his father’s last wish he was somehow betraying his mother, which really didn’t make sense. Then again, not much in his world had made sense since his father had died. He kept waiting for something logical to happen, but it never did.
“Is your mom there on the beach with you?” Nicole asked.
“God, no,” Jordan responded without thought, shifting position so he could lie down. Although he knew this would get sand all over his clothes, he didn’t care. Life was far too short for caring about sand. “She wouldn’t have handled watching me deal with the ashes very well, so she stayed home. It really was better that way. How’s your little girl?” he asked, suddenly feeling too raw to keep talking about his father.
“Michelle? She’s getting big and definitely keeps me on my toes.”
Jordan laughed, and it felt good to leave his world behind for a moment and think about Nicole’s. “Is she anything like her mother?”
“Yeah, quite a bit, actually. She looks a lot like me, but she’s quieter. No idea where that came from because Michael’s not.”
Jordan frowned. He thought he heard a sudden tension in her voice when she said her husband’s name, and he wondered how they were getting along. Then again, there were some questions he knew better than to ask, and that was definitely one of them.
Looking down the shore, he spotted the couple in an intimate embrace, and his stomach clenched. He knew that no matter how many times he called Nicole, it wouldn’t change the overwhelming sense of loss he felt.
“Hey, Nicole, I should probably go. I told my mom I’d start the drive back today, and since my dad’s death, she’s been paranoid about everything.”
“Oh…okay.” Her tone sounded slightly off. He just didn’t know if it had to do with talking about her husband or his sudden shift. Maybe it didn’t matter. “Be careful, okay?”
“Will do.”
Jordan snapped the phone shut and looked once more at the tide gently rolling to the shore. It was funny how the ocean and death tended into put things in perspective. Now if he only felt like laughing.
He walked back to the Jeep one last time and unzipped a backpack in the passenger's seat. Although it took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for, his fingers finally latched onto Nicole's old camera and he pulled it out. It had taken him so long to get all the parts, and now that it was finally supposed to be back in working condition, he figured he'd test it.
He turned back to the beach and started snapping pictures, imagining Nicole was right there with him.
Chapter Eighteen
Twelve Years Later
“Learn to drive!” Nicole snapped, watching someone weave into her lane, cutting her off. It was a miracle of brakes and swerving that kept her from clipping the tail of the Buick, and she didn’t realize she'd held her breath until she exhaled loudly and felt a cramping in her shoulders from all the tension.
It had been one of those days, and frankly she was glad it was also a Friday so she and Michelle could curl up on the couch and watch a chick flick like they did every weekend. It wasn’t that her daughter didn’t like to go out--Michelle was very outgoing and very social--but she was choosy in her friends and even more choosy in the guys she expressed an interest in, yet another trait she’d gotten from her mother. In fact, she’d gotten a lot from her mother, including a frustration for her weekend-warrior dad, who didn’t understand that everything wasn’t about having fun when they visited. Besides, there was still his girlfriend, whom neither Nicole nor Michelle had ever been able to stand.
Nicole pulled up in her driveway and slowly got out, hoping the crick in her neck would ease itself out overnight. It would definitely help if she didn’t attract idiot drivers, though. The front door was open, telling Nicole her daughter was at home. Michelle usually rented the movies, while Nicole took care of ordering pizza, which was actually more for Nick than either of them, but they had to offer him something besides the chick flicks. Granted, sometimes he popped his head into the living room, but Nicole often thought it had more to do with trying to understand women than really wanting to watch any movie that they’d rented--a movie that often made no sense to him-- and even though he looked a lot like his dad, he, too, was much more like his mother. He just tolerated the weekend-warrior dad a little better.
Of course, the girlfriend was another matter. Nick couldn’t stand her, either.
Nicole entered the house and set her purse and keys on the table in the entryway. “Hey, Michelle, did you rent our movies?” She reached up and pulled at the comb holding her hair up. Immediately, the long, wavy strands fell around her face.
“Not yet.” Michelle’s voice came from the living room, so Nicole headed that way.
“Why not? All the new releases are going to be gone.” She stepped into the room and spotted her daughter si
tting on the sofa. Her long, dark hair also spilled around her face, and everyone who had ever seen the two of them together had said they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. Then again, Nicole had always been fortunate because she didn’t show her true age.
“What are you doing?” Nicole looked at the scrapbook in her daughter’s hand and assumed it was Michelle’s baby book. For some reason, Michelle loved to look at scrapbooks, but she had no interest in creating any.
“Hey, Mom, who’s this?” She pointed at a picture Nicole could hardly see from a distance, so she had to sit on the couch as well.
As she looked at the glossy photo, Nicole gasped sharply, and her whole body went rigid. She opened her mouth like she wanted to speak, but nothing would come out.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Michelle looked down at the photo, trying to figure out what had made her mother react. It was a simple photo taken in the delivery room where her mother lay on the bed. Standing beside her was a tall man she didn’t recognize. It was her baby picture, she realized from the pink on the infant. The stranger held her.
“Mom, who is he?” she prompted again, her finger touching the stranger’s chest just above where she, as a baby, lay.
Nicole swallowed hard before answering. “Your godfather,” she whispered softly.
“Well, if he’s my godfather, shouldn’t I have heard of him before?” Michelle asked, looking more closely at the picture.
“It doesn’t matter, Michelle.” Nicole’s tone was sharper than she'd intended as she gingerly took the scrapbook from her daughter’s hands, closed it, and resettled it back on the shelf.
“So aren’t you even going to tell me who he is?” Michelle asked, rising. Even as her mother put the scrapbook away, she stared at it, suddenly even more interested than she had been, and Nicole quickly realized it was because she was reacting when she shouldn’t be. It was just that she hadn’t expected to suddenly see an image of Jordan, and certainly not one that had made her daughter ask questions, not that Nicole had anything to hide.
There were just some things people never got over. Jordan had been one of those. He always would be.
“A name, Mom. At least tell me that much,” Michelle said as she whisked her way into her mother’s path. Michelle looked up at her with dark eyes that matched her own, and Nicole knew that the bigger the deal she made of this, the more her daughter would pursue it, and that was the last thing Nicole needed.
“His name is Jordan Carroway, and he’s a friend. Not much more to tell.” She side-stepped her daughter to go deeper into the living room, where the phone book had ended up on the table. “Perhaps you should go get those movies now while there’s still a selection.”
“All right. I’m going.” She slipped from the room, and Nicole waited for a few seconds before she pulled out the scrapbook and flipped back to the page where she could look at Jordan’s smile. Without realizing it, her finger had crept to his image and touched his face. It had been so long since they'd met, and while she’d never meant to fall in love, she had. Now she just couldn’t take it back.
Of all the things she'd expected, a warm pooling of tears hadn't been among them, and even though she tried to wipe them away, suddenly there were too many and they spilled down her face, forcing a quiet sob to escape as Nicole once again thought of how things should never have gone that way. Never.
But it didn’t matter what she thought. There would be no revising the past.
* * *
Michelle stood in the entryway, hidden just enough so her mother couldn’t see her as Nicole slowly went back to the shelf and pulled down the scrapbook. As Michelle watched, she saw her mother flip through pages until she'd come to the one Michelle had pointed out. When Michelle saw her mother’s expression soften at the sight of Jordan’s picture, she frowned, wishing she could make sense of what she was seeing. What was it that seemed to disarm her mother the way no guy, including her father, had ever seemed able to?
Then the tears came, which caused her to take a step back and wonder at her mother’s words. If Jordan Carroway had been just a friend, Nicole wouldn’t be crying, so she knew the story her mother had given her had been false, and though she just didn’t have a clue why the secrecy was so important, she sensed a sort of urgency in her mother as she struggled to keep it secret. Still, if there were one person who could untangle her mom’s secrets, it would be Aunt Sarah. She knew everything, and she would talk, even if Michelle’s mom didn’t want her to.
At one time, Michelle had believed she knew everything about her mom, but the older she got, the more she realized her mother had had a life, and there were so many years that hadn't included her. Still, this was the first time she'd seen some glimmer of a life that might not have included her dad, and that definitely made her curious, especially since Jordan had done something that now made her mom cry at the sight of his photo.
* * *
Sarah was sitting outside by the pool when she heard her cell ring. She slowly eased one eye open and glared at the phone, hoping that would effectively silence it. No go. A third ring followed and then a fourth. Of course that was when it went straight to messaging so she figured it was all good. Until the phone rang again.
“Oh, all right,” she muttered and reached for it. “Hello?”
“Aunt Sarah?”
Sarah frowned and sat up. “Michelle, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” In addition to Michelle’s voice, Sarah also heard the wind around her, telling her Michelle was outside.
“What’s wrong? Is your mom okay?” She looked out at the blue-green water that beckoned her and figured that once she'd finished this call, she’d dive in and cool off. Suddenly the sun felt way too hot for comfort.
“I think she is, but there’re some things I want to ask you. Can you meet me at Burger King by my house?”
Frowning, Sarah nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right there.” She disconnected the call and gave the pool one last longing look. “So much for a swim,” she muttered, and headed into the house to slip on a pair of shorts and a shirt before sliding her feet into flip flops. This done, she grabbed her purse and keys and flew out the door, driving like a demon.
Michelle was already there when Sarah arrived, and she quickly slid into the booth opposite her best friend’s daughter. While she sort of expected Michelle to be upset or something, the teenager only sat calmly, sipping a milkshake.
“Okay, Michelle, out with it. What’s so important?” Sarah brushed the hair from her face and took another sip of the drink she’d just bought.
“Who’s Jordan Carroway?”
Sarah choked on the drink and sputtered. “Where did you hear that name?” She grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth, suddenly wary of where this conversation was going.
“Mom told me. I just want to know what you know about him.”
Of course you do, Sarah thought, suddenly unsure what to say that wouldn’t upset her best friend. Surely, if Nicole had wanted her to know, she would have told her, right? She opened her mouth and closed it more than once as she tried to figure out how to answer Michelle’s question. “Why does it matter who Jordan is, and how did you find out about him? I know there’s more to this story than what your mom told you about him so if you want info, you tell me what happened.” She leaned back and folded her arms across her chest.
“Okay.” Michelle leaned close and told her the story about the scrapbook. When she'd finished, she asked, “Now are you going to tell me about Jordan and why a picture of him could make my mom cry like that?” She propped an elbow on the table and stared at Sarah expectantly.
Taking another sip, Sarah considered her options. She could tell the truth, or she could say that Michelle wasn’t old enough to understand. The problem with option number two was that Michelle was mature for fifteen, and if anyone would understand, Michelle would. Besides, Nicole had never compromised her marital vows. That had all been Michael. She would even have fought to keep their marriage intact
had Michael had the slightest glimmer of loyalty.
So she finally nodded at Michelle. “Okay, here’s the deal--but if you tell your mom, I’ll have to kill you, and it will be a slow and painful death before I feed you to my Chihuahua. Got it?”
Michelle started laughing and shook her head. “You are so insane, Aunt Sarah. You don’t have a Chihuahua, and you know it.”
Sarah nodded coolly and took another drink. “Well, yeah, but I’ll buy one just for the occasion. Do you agree to be eaten by a Chihuahua if you tell your mom?”
A huge smile lit up Michelle’s face as she realized Sarah was about to give her what she wanted. “Yes, I promise already. Now tell me!”
And Sarah did. She started with the weekend PE trip when Nicole had first fallen in love and went through all the moments she was aware of her best friend being around Jordan, and Michelle sat with stars in her eyes, eating it all up until Sarah reached the end.
“So why doesn’t Mom call him now? She’s divorced. And it’s not like she doesn’t deserve some happiness. Besides, while I like our movie nights, it would be really good to see her go out every once in a while, if you know what I mean.”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean, Michelle, but this has to be your mom’s choice. Besides, I think she did try to call him. A woman answered the phone, and Nicole figured he had remarried.”
Michelle let out a sigh and shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean she knows he’s remarried. She’s guessing. She should just call him and ask him or something.”
Sarah frowned. This was the same conversation she’d had with Nicole, and her daughter was right, but Nicole had just believed without proof he was married and was willing to let that be the end of it, which had troubled Sarah to no end. Still, Sarah knew her best friend wasn’t going to give on this, so she held up her hand.
“Listen, Michelle, I know you mean well, and I know you want what’s best for your mom, but this is something she needs to do. We can’t do it for her. However things work out for Jordan and your mom, it’s not up to us.”
Scattered Ashes Page 18
