by Marci Bolden
Because if there was one thing Carol Denman knew how to do, it was finding ways to tear herself down from the inside out. Another habit she had to break.
“Would you like to have dinner again tonight?” she asked her companion so she could stop dwelling on her perceived failure.
Harold smiled, and the concern that had been filling his dark eyes eased. “I’d like that very much. The road gets lonely sometimes, doesn’t it? It’s nice to make a friend.”
“It’s wonderful to make a friend. You made dinner last night,” she said. “How about if I make a chicken salad? Does that sound good?”
“That sounds great.”
She glanced at her watch. “Meet you at the picnic table in two hours?”
“It’s a date,” Harold said. He climbed the steps into his RV while she climbed the steps into hers.
Once inside, she dropped down into the bench seat at the little table and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. A long breath left her as if she’d been holding the spent air forever. What the hell had she been thinking? White-water rafting? Had she lost her mind, like her mom had said?
Turning toward the photo of her and Tobias she’d put on the fridge the day they’d bought this RV, she frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at his smiling face. “I tried.”
Carol tugged the blanket tighter around her when she heard Tobias’s footfalls on the stairs. If she pretended to be asleep, maybe he’d leave her alone. She needed to be left alone. She loved him for wanting to be there for her, but she needed to be alone.
She’d failed him. She’d failed herself. She’d failed everyone.
She wasn’t ready to face that reality yet.
The bedroom door creaked as it opened. He’d been planning to fix that for weeks. His feet rustled over the carpet. Then, the bed sank as he sat on the edge. Carol squeezed her eyes closed. Having him so close made her want to cry again. She’d been crying for days. Her eyes were swollen, and her chest hurt from crying. She didn’t want to cry anymore.
Tobias rubbed his hand over her back. “Babe,” he said softly, “you gotta get up now. You’ve been in bed for two days.”
She didn’t answer. If she stayed quiet, maybe he’d leave. Instead, he pulled the blankets back and brushed her hair from her face.
“I know you’re awake, Carol. You’re a terrible actress.”
Forcing her lids over sandpaper eyes, she focused on him. A lump clogged her throat. He looked so sad. He seemed like he was on the verge of breaking. She’d done that to him. She’d disappointed him so much, she’d broken him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her lip trembled, and the tears that were constantly too close to the surface fell.
“It’s not your fault,” Tobias said.
“I should have known something was wrong.”
His big shoulders sagged as he shook his head. “You heard the doctor. There’s no way you could have known that—”
“Stop,” she barked, but her nose was too stuffy to sound as angry as she felt. She didn’t need him to tell her what the doctor had said. She’d heard the words over and over in her mind. She heard them in her sleep.
Cervical insufficiency.
That’s what the doctor had said. He told her, after two miscarriages, her cervix was too insufficient to carry a pregnancy to term. She’d countered him. She’d had a full-term pregnancy once. She’d given birth once. To Katie.
He said that had been a miracle.
Katie had been a miracle.
The doctor gave them options. There were things they could try, but the risks for another miscarriage were high. Incredibly high. There was no guarantee her body could carry another pregnancy to term. Those words wouldn’t stop echoing through her mind. She didn’t need her husband to repeat them.
Curling into a ball with her back to Tobias, Carol rested her hand on the stomach that, a few days ago, had a slight bulge where their child had been growing. Tobias hadn’t said the words yet, but she knew he would. They wouldn’t try again. They wouldn’t take the risk, even now that the doctors were aware of her condition and could take preventative measures.
He shifted on the bed behind her. A moment later, he snuggled close, wrapped his arm around her, and put his hand over hers. After kissing her head, he sighed loudly. “You’re starting to stink.”
Carol didn’t want to laugh, but she did, even though the sound was more like a sob. “Screw you,” she whispered.
He pulled her closer. “We’re in this together. You and me. We’re a team, remember? Don’t shut me out.”
Closing her eyes again, she tried to stop her tears. She couldn’t. “This isn’t fair to you. This is my punishment, not yours.”
He leaned up. “What does that mean? Punishment for what?”
Carol clenched her jaw, not wanting the words to escape her, but she couldn’t stop them. “For what happened to Katie.”
Grabbing Carol’s shoulder, Tobias forced her onto her back and gripped her face. He wasn’t hurting her, but he was forceful enough she had no choice but to see the anger in his eyes. “Get that mess out of your head right now,” he said sternly. “This has nothing to do with Katie.”
“I never should have—”
“Stop it, Carol. I mean it. Katie’s death was not your fault. Losing our babies was not your fault. I’m not going to let you think like that.”
She knocked his hand away and struggled to sit so he wasn’t looming over her, challenging her. Usually when he pushed her, she appreciated the nudge. She was well aware of her ability to get lost inside her head and ignore the problems around her, hoping they’d resolve on their own. But she wasn’t going to be pushed this time. She leaned against the stack of pillows she’d burrowed into since coming home from the hospital. Shoving Tobias’s shoulder, she glared at him. “Don’t you dare tell me what to think.”
“Don’t you dare make this into something it isn’t. Your body can’t handle the stress of pregnancy, Carol. That has nothing to do with Katie.”
“What kind of mother can’t protect her children?”
As soon as the words left her, so did the oxygen in the room. There it was. The guilt she’d been hiding for years. The shame she’d forced down since the day her daughter had died. What kind of mother couldn’t protect her child? What kind of mother went against her instincts when she feared for her child’s safety?
Carol gasped as the question lingered between them. Hot tears fell unchecked down her cheeks as memories flashed through her mind like a horror film on fast-forward. Katie’s smile. Katie’s limp body in her arms. Two red rain boots that would never be worn again.
The crib that she and Tobias had bought months ago that would never hold their child.
A sob erupted from Carol before she could stop it. “I can’t do this,” she managed to say as he yanked her to him. “I can’t.”
Tobias wrapped her up so tightly, she thought he might be trying to pull her inside him. He kissed her head over and over, holding her like he would never let go, as she wept for the children she’d never held and the child she’d never hold again.
When she finally found her voice again, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Leaning back enough to see her face, he wiped her cheeks dry. “Don’t apologize. I should have realized this would bring up memories of Katie.”
“No.” Carol swallowed before whispering, “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”
Once again, the air was drawn from the room. Something shifted in Tobias’s eyes, and she feared what he was going to say. Maybe he’d been waiting for the right time to tell her didn’t want a wife who couldn’t give him a family. By admitting her failure, she’d opened the door. He looked like he wanted to walk through it. Or, to be more accurate, out of it.
He stared into her eyes for several seconds before cupping her face. “You have never disappointed me,” he stated. “Life isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. But I’m not disappointed in you. And you haven’t let me d
own. We are going to get through this.” After dropping his hands, he let out a slow breath. “I’m going to call Mama. I’m going to have her stay and help us.”
“No—”
“I’m scared for you, Carol,” he whispered. “I’m scared of what you’re doing to yourself. You think I don’t see you struggle with Katie’s loss more than you want me to know? You think I don’t see how you get lost in your own head sometimes? I think… I think we gotta face that. I think we gotta get serious about finding someone to help you.”
She furrowed her brow. “No. I don’t need help.”
“I’m going to ask Mama to stay with us for a while.”
“To analyze me?”
He didn’t deny her accusation. “To make sure we get through this okay. Both of us.” Standing up, he pulled the blankets the rest of the way off the bed. “First, though, let’s get you showered and dressed. You’ll feel better once you get out of this bed.”
“Tobias, I’m not…” She stopped talking when he sniffed and wiped a tear from his eye. He was discreet, but she’d seen him, and the movement caused the world to stop. Seeing him shaken gave her grief pause, and for the first time since leaving the hospital, she stopped thinking about her pain.
He’d lost a child too. Two of them now. The first miscarriage was several months ago. She’d been in her second trimester when the bleeding had started. He’d clung to her hand while he drove her to the emergency room, reassuring her over and over that everything was going to be okay. The second time, she’d been at work when the discomfort started. She’d driven herself to the obstetrician and called Tobias after being admitted to the hospital. The baby was gone before he’d arrived.
She’d been spiraling downward since, so much so that she hadn’t stopped feeling sorry for herself long enough to consider her husband.
God, how could she not have seen how much this had hurt him too?
Getting on her knees, Carol crawled to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said softly.
He pulled her against him. “I love you. More than anything.”
“I’m going to be okay. I promise.”
“But until you are, I want Mama here to help us.”
Though Carol didn’t want her mother-in-law hovering over her, she nodded. If Tobias wanted his mother there, then Mary should be there. Carol might not be able to give him the children they wanted, but she wouldn’t deny him the comfort of having his mother there to help him grieve.
“Okay,” she whispered and then kissed him. “Okay.”
Carol was exhausted, but she forced herself off the bed and into the bathroom to shower. For Tobias. As much as she wanted to curl up in a ball and let the world fade away, she had to keep going for Tobias.
Carol knew Harold was right. Beating herself up never did make her feel better, but she was so incredibly good at it. She’d learned how to blame herself at a young age and had yet to break the habit despite recognizing how destructive the negative inner talk could be.
Ever since losing Tobias, Carol couldn’t seem to escape the depression closing in on her. Sometimes, the sense of loss consumed her. She’d managed to fight her way back each time, but every battle seemed more hard-won than the last. Eventually, she was going to lose. She knew that, and still, she denied the truth as much as possible.
She’d recently promised her mom she’d find a counselor to help her. Being on the road gave her a good excuse not to follow through. How could she commit to therapy if she was traveling? The truth was, she could. She had a phone and a computer. She could find someone to work with her via either of those methods. Finding the courage was another story.
However, she’d been so terror-stricken earlier in the day, she hadn’t been able to move. She’d panicked until she could barely function. Ignoring her problems had always been easier for her, but that kind of visceral reaction was not something she could overlook.
This was the point when she had to reach out for the help she clearly needed or accept that she was going to spend the rest of her life avoiding the things that scared her and missing out on adventures Katie and Tobias would have enjoyed. Tobias would tell her to make the call. Send the e-mail. Do whatever she had to do to connect with someone who could guide her to the other side of this hell.
He wouldn’t want her to suffer like this. Seeing her like this would break his heart.
She knew that because he’d tried to gently push her into therapy so many times over the course of their marriage. She’d only ever budged one time after the fifteenth anniversary of Katie’s passing sent her spiraling into the depths of depression. Carol only went once, though. With faked smiles and nods at the appropriate times, she managed to convince the therapist she was doing as well as could be expected and that Tobias was unnecessarily concerned.
Carol was so well-practiced at hiding her pain, she’d even convinced herself. She put her grief in a box, tied a pretty ribbon around it, and put the package on a shelf, right next to all the other boxes filled with ugliness she couldn’t stand to see.
She couldn’t seem to find a box big enough to put this pain in, though. Even if she did, there didn’t seem to be any room left on the shelf. As much as she hated to admit that her mother was right, Carol couldn’t keep denying the toll her sorrow was taking on her. Tobias’s loss was the one that had done her in. She was facing her demons alone now, and she was beginning to accept that she couldn’t keep them at bay without someone to help her. She couldn’t win this fight alone. She had to reach out before she was consumed.
Carol’s phone rang, startling her, and she laughed slightly at her reaction. Seeing her mom’s name on her caller ID, she debated if she should answer. Considering she was finally accepting that she needed to stop procrastinating and take her mother’s advice, Carol wasn’t really in the mood to hear the I told you so her mom was sure to dish out. However, if she didn’t take the call, her mom would worry herself into a fit. Nobody needed to deal with that.
Forcing a smile to her face and hoping the fake happiness translated to her voice, Carol answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“What’s wrong?” Judith asked immediately.
Letting her shoulders sag, Carol closed her eyes. Clearly, her plan to hide her emotional distress had failed. “Nothing. I had a long day, that’s all.”
“Why? What happened?”
In the background, Aunt Ellen’s voice, muffled by distance from the receiver, came through the line. “What’s going on?”
Carol scowled as she imagined the scene playing out on the other end of the phone. Her mom and aunt had lived together for three years now, but Carol couldn’t think of two sisters as ill-suited to sharing living quarters as Judith and Ellen. Where Judith was gruff and direct, Ellen was gentle and coaxing. Ellen would have approached her concerns with tenderness rather than the brash demands Judith had made.
“Mom,” Carol said, but she was too late. The bickering between the sisters began.
“I don’t know yet,” Judith told Ellen with a snappy tone, no doubt shooing at Ellen to leave her alone. “You’re talking over me. As you do.”
“Mom,” Carol called again.
“Let me talk to her,” Ellen insisted.
Carol knew what the response would be before Judith could say the words.
As expected, Judith barked, “She’s my daughter.”
Not the least bit deterred, Ellen said, “Put her on speaker.” Moments later, Ellen’s voice echoed with the telltale signs that Judith had set the call so both women could hear Carol. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Her aunt’s question was tender, not demanding.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Carol answered. The silence on the phone let her know they didn’t believe her. “I…I tried to do something today that didn’t work out. I’m disappointed. That’s all.”
“What were you doing?” Judith pressed.
Carol debated lying. She didn’t want to delve into this with her mom and aunt, but lying was pointless. They�
�d get the truth from her at some point. “I tried to go on a white-water rafting trip.”
More silence.
The women were probably staring at each other through their shock. A hint of amusement found Carol as she pictured them with comically wide eyes and gaping mouths.
“Carol,” Ellen finally said, her voice soft and filled with concern.
Then, Judith cut in with her sharp voice. “Why on earth—”
“Mom,” Carol said, cutting off the question. “This was something Tobias wanted to do. He always wanted to go rafting, but he never went because of me. I…I wanted to do that for him, but I couldn’t. I signed up for the beginner trip because the rapids were supposed to be mild, but…as soon as I imagined the water splashing over me…I froze. I couldn’t do it.”
“Honey,” Ellen said. That was all she said. There was nothing more to add.
Trying to climb into an inflatable raft and navigate down a river had been foolish. Stupid. Impossible.
Tears burned Carol’s eyes. “I wanted to do that for him.” As much as she’d wanted to pretend that she was okay for her mom and aunt, her voice quivered, betraying the depth of the ache in her soul.
“Carol,” Judith said. Though she wasn’t affectionate by nature, the way she said her daughter’s name could almost pass as warm.
As much effort as the two of them had made in the last few months, going from barely speaking to doing their best to be open and honest, Judith still didn’t have the innate ability to offer comfort. That was Ellen’s job.
“Listen to me,” Judith continued. “It’s time to stop this madness and come back to Florida.”
“Judith,” Ellen chastised.
“No,” Carol’s mom stated. “We never should have let her leave. You should not be alone right now.”
When Carol’s last visit to Florida started winding down, Judith had argued every way she could, trying to convince Carol to stay. Finally, she simply frowned and shook her head. While Carol had left on good terms and with much more love in her heart for her mom than she’d ever had before, she hadn’t wanted to stay. Judith had a way of making Carol feel less than she was. She now understood her mom didn’t make her feel like that intentionally; the woman simply didn’t know how to be maternal. After harboring decades of resentment toward her parents, Carol had come to realize they’d done the best they could.
