A Life Without Regrets

by Marci Bolden

  She’d loved that about him.

  “This is the life,” Gillian said, slightly winded as they started up an incline in the path. “Nobody telling me where to be, when to be there. I spent too long living by someone else’s clock. Know what I mean?”

  “I never minded having a schedule,” Carol said. “I liked the structure.”

  “Not me. No, ma’am. I’m a loner. Always have been. The man has kept me down long enough.”

  Carol smiled in response, mostly because Gillian said the words with too much enthusiasm, like she’d practiced the speech a hundred times before giving it. Though Gillian marched forward, head high, looking every bit like she believed the words coming from her mouth, Carol sensed she didn’t. Gillian most likely had practiced this mantra so much because she didn’t believe it. Saying the words over and over would make them true. Eventually.

  Carol knew because she’d played that game a thousand times too. One of the many bad habits she had to break, according to Dr. Baxter, was lying to herself until the falsehood became reality. As the doctor pointed out, the truth surfaced sometime. Right now, Carol was finally facing the reality that Tobias was gone. Really gone.

  No more pretending he was on a business trip or visiting family. Over a year had gone by. She had to face the fact that he was never going to come back to her, not even if she went rafting.

  “Check that out,” Gillian said, once again distracting Carol from her thoughts. Gillian pointed at the valley of sand and shrubs. “Nothing but rattlesnakes and scorpions could call a place like this home. Where are you from?”

  “Houston,” Carol said as they continued the path.

  “Oh, the humidity of Southern Texas. My hair is kinky enough without the humidity.”

  “I don’t have that problem,” Carol said, pointing at her straight, shoulder-length hair. “I don’t miss the humidity. But I do miss the city more than I expected I would. I was never keen on the noise and the constant rush when I lived there, but all that becomes a part of you after a while.”

  “Never could stand the sounds of urban living. I’m from Northern California.”

  Carol’s spirits lifted, picturing the green rolling hills of Napa Valley. She and Tobias had spent a week there once, wine tasting and having romantic dinners on the veranda of their cottage. She blinked the memory away before saying, “The land of wineries.”

  “I prefer a strong Irish whiskey,” Gillian countered. “I like to know I’m drinking something.”

  Carol stifled a chuckle. She could almost picture the woman next to her taking a swig and letting out one of those telltale sighs as the alcohol burned its way to her stomach. She knew then that this chance meeting wasn’t like the first time she’d met Alyssa. She and Gillian wouldn’t form some unbreakable bond. They were two ships passing in the night.

  Distracted by a loud round of laughter, Carol watched a group of young men tempting fate by stepping to the very edge of a steep rock face and peering down. Though the trail was several feet wide, one wrong move and someone could tumble over the edge, which was the reason Gillian had asked for company, someone who could call for help if she fell.

  “Risky business right there,” Gillian said.

  “To be so young and stupid,” Carol replied as they trekked on.

  “The bad thing is, that kind of recklessness is encouraged by our society. Social media has made being stupid a badge of honor.”

  Carol took a drink of her water as she listened to Gillian’s long list of ways technology was ruining the world. Carol couldn’t disagree with most of them. She’d avoided social media as much as possible. She’d rather send a text or e-mail to stay in touch, but she understood the draw for most people. Perhaps if she didn’t have a tendency to dissociate, as Dr. Baxter had called it, Carol would be more inclined to enjoy sharing her life with the world. Not that she had much of a life to share these days.

  “I’m telling you,” Gillian continued, “we had it made back in our day when we didn’t have to try to compete with everyone else’s lives.”

  “Oh, I think we tried to,” Carol said, “only not on such a grand scale.”

  “Not me. I never tried to fit in. I liked being the outcast. Still do.”

  Gillian put on what Carol was starting to recognize as her facade. While Carol hid behind a polite but frozen face, Gillian put on a bright, beaming grin and forced excitement. She embraced being on the outside rather than fighting to get where she wanted to be. Carol did her best to fit in, to be the person others wanted her to be, so she didn’t disappoint them. It seemed to her that Gillian fought to not be who she wanted to be so she didn’t disappoint herself.

  Gillian was obviously lying to herself about how much she enjoyed the freedom of being on the road as much as Carol lied to herself about being okay. There was something as lonely and broken inside Gillian as there was inside Carol. They were different sides of the same coin.

  “Do you have family?” Carol asked.

  “A brother I don’t see much of. You?”

  “My mom and aunt. Some cousins and in-laws.”

  “Oh, you’re married.” The way Gillian said the words sounded more like disillusionment than a mere observation. Apparently, Carol’s appeal lessened with the prospect of being in a relationship.

  Though she was tempted to enthusiastically start rambling about her amazing husband, she said, “Widowed.”

  Then the inevitable question came. “Do you have kids?”

  “No,” Carol said instead of rehashing her painful past.

  “Me either. Never wanted any. Who needs that kind of financial and emotional burden?”

  Rather than counter Gillian’s bleak outlook on human connections and familial ties, Carol half listened as she walked beside her hiking partner. Gillian seemed perfectly content to ramble on, which Carol decided was further proof of the woman’s loneliness. Why else would she feel the need to talk so much? She clearly was desperate for someone to hear her. Carol was okay with being that someone for a while, at least on the surface.

  In her mind, however, Carol was once again imagining how excited her husband would have been if he were the one walking beside her. He’d be telling her about the layers in the rock and how the wind and rain had formed this valley. He’d quiz her, and his face would light up when he came to something she didn’t know. He was a know-it-all, but not in a cocky way. In a way that made her want to hear what he had to share. About everything. His need to share what he knew was charming. Infectious.

  Like his smile.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Gillian said with awe rather than the forced excitement she’d been using to insist how much she loved her freedom.

  Carol gasped as she gazed at the free-standing arch they were approaching. The naturally carved sandstone rose proud and defiant against the bright azure sky. Layered plateaus and snowcapped mountains stood in the distance, as if they too couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

  The scene was spectacular. Knowing nature had provided the arches without the help of man was humbling.

  “Oh my God,” Carol whispered as she put her hand to her heart. “You’d love this,” she said to Tobias.

  Unlike when she’d stood in awe of the view with Harold, Carol suppressed the urge to shed some tears for Tobias. Gillian didn’t seem the type to offer a comforting hug to a mourning widow.

  Reaching into her pocket, Carol squeezed the rose quartz worry stone and rubbed her thumb over the engraving. Much like when she spotted the sunbeams, Carol felt Tobias was there with her, seeing what she was seeing, feeling as impressed by the view.

  Harold was right. He was so right. There were a thousand ways Carol could honor Tobias. This was definitely one of them.

  Carol glanced at her clock to check the time when her cell phone rang. Again. She didn’t need to check the caller ID to know the call was from Alyssa. Again.

  Carol’s best friend was nothing if not persistent. Ever since Tobias had died, Alyssa couldn’
t simply leave a voice mail like a normal person. She called over and over and over until Carol answered the phone.

  However, Carol ignored this call as she had the last three, only this time she put the ringer on mute. If she didn’t stay focused, she was going to miss something in the report she was reviewing and lose several hours’ worth of work.

  Carol read each word on the page carefully. Slowly. Analyzing every letter. Absorbing every detail. She was so focused, she literally squealed when someone knocked on her bedroom door.

  Jolting, she jerked her head and up and focused on Alyssa standing there, holding a bag and a drink tray from a local deli. Carol exhaled loudly when her heart started beating again. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Since you haven’t been answering my calls, I thought you must be dead,” Alyssa said flatly. “I came to clean out your jewelry box before calling the cops.”

  One of the reasons she and Carol became such close friends was because they shared the same brand of humor, which was slightly off-color and usually a bit on the dry side.

  “I’m busy,” Carol countered. “Clean out the box and go. The good stuff is in the safe downstairs, though.”

  Alyssa tossed the bag onto the bed and started pulling off her jacket. Though Alyssa was at least six inches shorter than Carol, her cocked brow and deep scowl were intimidating. “Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

  Carol gestured to the papers scattered around her. “I’m working. A new drug study was released. I have to read it, understand it, and be able to ask the appropriate questions by the end of the week.”

  “For three days?” Alyssa said with blatant accusation in her tone. “You’ve been working so much for three days that you can’t stop long enough to let me know you’re okay?”

  Carol sat a bit taller. “I didn’t realize I have to check in with you.”

  “Well, you do. For the record, you do have to check in with me.” Opening the bag, Alyssa peered in. “When was the last time you ate?”

  Carol had to think about that. Dinner? No. Lunch? No, she’d passed on going out with her coworkers. “I had an apple.”

  “When?”

  “This morning.”

  “Jesus Christ, Carol. What are you doing to yourself?”

  Carol rolled her shoulders back, bracing for the attack. She and Alyssa had never really fought, but Carol knew that tone. Tobias used to use that tone when he was trying to push her. Her mother used that tone when she was fed up with what she considered to be Carol’s “antics.” Whenever Carol attempted to think for herself and dared to challenge what her mother insisted was best for her, Judith would get a snappy tone with just enough disappointment to cut down Carol’s confidence.

  “Have you looked at yourself lately?” Alyssa asked. “You’re about two shades paler than a sheet of notebook paper, and the bags under your eyes are big enough to pack for a trip to Europe.”

  Carol’s mouth fell open as she widened her eyes. “If you came here to criticize me—”

  “I came here—”

  “—you can leave,” Carol stated loudly to drown out whatever excuse her friend was about to come up with.

  Alyssa didn’t leave. In fact, she pulled a cup from the drink carrier and took a long drink as she stared Carol down. “I’m allowed to worry about you,” Alyssa stated after swallowing her big gulp. “That’s what friends do.”

  “Worry about what? I’m fine.”

  Shaking her head, Alyssa reached into the bag and held out a sandwich. Carol stared at the food for a few seconds before her stomach won out and she grabbed it. She didn’t even care what she was eating. She just needed to eat something.

  “If you need to hide behind your work to process losing Tobias, then you do that,” Alyssa said, digging for her own sandwich, “but don’t you dare make me worry about you like this again. That’s not fair to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carol said, unwrapping what turned out to be turkey on sourdough. “I tend to get focused, and everything else falls away.”

  “You can’t do that to me, okay? I was really getting scared.”

  “Okay,” Carol said softly.

  “I’m not going to try to tell you how to get through this,” Alyssa said, “but I need to know you are getting through.”

  Leaning over, Carol hugged her friend, grateful that at least one person wasn’t going to try to give her all the answers. “I’m getting through,” she said, although she didn’t really believe that. The world had cracked beneath her feet and she was falling. She started to say so to Alyssa, but the words wouldn’t form. The confession felt too heavy to share.

  Rather than reach out for the help she was becoming more and more aware she needed, Carol pushed her fear down and focused on soothing Alyssa’s. Carol was much better at pretending to be okay than admitting she wasn’t.

  Once again, Simon sounded exhausted when Carol answered his call. The budget meetings were taking a toll on him. Carol sympathized as he debated what his next move should be and the expected fallout of each possible plan.

  Six years into the job, and he seemed to have lost touch with the reason he’d accepted the position in the first place. Rather than remind him again of the good he could do, she listened, offered input when asked, and let him work through his frustration on his own. There wasn’t much she could do other than listen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a few minutes. “I must be driving you crazy with this.”

  Sliding into the seat at her table, she said, “No, you’re not. I don’t mind.”

  “This has to be boring to you.”

  “Actually, I miss having these talks.”

  “You miss talking about corporate conflict?” he asked, his tone reflecting his disbelief.

  “Yeah. This is infinitely better than telling you I walked miles over rough terrain. Again.”

  “Hey,” Simon countered. “I like hearing about your day.”

  “You’re using me,” she stated.

  He scoffed. “How so?”

  “To distract you from your problems. You don’t give a damn about how much I went hiking. You just don’t want to think about work. But you can’t stop yourself.”

  “Who’s doing the psychoanalyzing tonight?”

  “It’s no fun being on the receiving end, is it?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Tell me about your day,” Simon insisted.

  Carol picked up the turkey sandwich she’d made herself for dinner. “I’m getting lazy. I used to cook several times a week so I’d have leftovers. The last three nights, I’ve had lunch meat. This is becoming a staple of my diet. That’s not a good thing.”

  “Okay, when I said to tell me about your day,” Simon teased, “I meant the hiking and sightseeing part. I don’t give a crap about lunch meat.”

  Carol chuckled and pushed her plate aside before telling him about Gillian and the hike they’d taken. He listened intently, from the odd introduction all the way to when they parted ways with Gillian offering Carol a salute and well wishes for her continued adventures. Carol wrapped up her story with a confession that she could barely walk after the hike to Delicate Arch, despite guzzling water, stretching, and taking ibuprofen for the aches and pains.

  “I can tell you one thing,” she said. “I won’t be hiking or sightseeing tomorrow.”

  “What will you be doing?”

  “I’m taking a down day. I think I’ll read and enjoy the confines of my RV. I’ve reserved this spot until the end of the week. I can take time to heal before doing more exploration. Maybe I’ll get around to finding a grocery store and buying some real food.”

  “Sounds nice,” he said. “How long are you planning to be in Utah?”

  “Another week or so.”

  “Where are you headed next?”

  “Salt Lake City. I want to wander around the city a bit, maybe visit a museum or two.” Carol sat back with her iced tea. “I’ll make my way toward St. Louis after that. I’ll be staying with Tobi
as’s mother through Thanksgiving. Even though she’d insist it’s impossible to overstay my welcome, I don’t want to get there too early. I’m planning a few overnight stops along the way.”

  Simon grew quiet. So quiet, Carol was about to ask if she’d lost him. Finally, he said, “I’m going to be in St. Louis for Thanksgiving. I’m staying with my brother.”

  He got quiet again, and Carol knew he was about to toss out one of his big ideas. She hated his big ideas, mostly because his ideas kicked her in the ass when she didn’t want to be.

  When Carol and Simon met two and a half decades ago, she was trapped in a terrible marriage. John had been a functioning alcoholic and consistently made their lives hell. Miserable and lonely, she’d counted on Simon far too much, so much so that they’d ended up having a brief affair. Though their time together hadn’t lasted long, the impact had.

  Simon was the reason she’d moved to St. Louis.

  His big idea back then was for her to leave John. Simon offered her everything she’d ever wanted, including a house in a wonderful neighborhood where they would have raised her daughter together. He’d even suggested she quit her job as a pediatric nurse and go back to school to get the medical degree she’d said she would finish someday.

  She’d turned him down.

  Instead of ending her rocky marriage, she’d ended an affair that had made her happier than she’d ever been. She’d stayed with John until their daughter had died. Losing Katie had tipped the scale. She couldn’t stay any longer. The night she told Simon she was running away from the life that had hurt her too much, he put together the plan that had saved her. He’d sent her to St. Louis where he used to live. He still owned a house there. He still had connections at the hospital where he’d worked before transferring to Dayton. He gave her a place to live, a place to work, and a way to start her life over.