by Marci Bolden
Her teasing words went through Carol like a hot spear, causing her to jolt as the air was sucked out of her. Those were Tobias’s words. That was what he used to tell her when she’d pass on Mary’s homemade rolls or cakes. Whenever she’d insisted she was watching what she ate, he’d said, Carbs don’t count at Mama’s house.
One time, when she’d been adamant that she wasn’t eating a slice of chocolate cake, Tobias had wrapped his arm around her waist, pinned her against him, and smeared icing over her face. His laughter had rumbled through her, enveloping her in happiness as she squealed in protest. Mary had stormed into the room and lectured Tobias for making a mess, but the smile on her face had betrayed her faux frustration.
They’d had so many moments like that over their time together. There had been so much laughter and lighthearted teasing. That was one of the tools he’d used to pry her from her shell.
Carol’s chest tightened as a voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d never have another one like that again. Her lip trembled, and tears filled her eyes. She bit her lip hard, but she was too late. The tsunami of emotions had already hit her. She’d acknowledged the void, she’d faced the pain, and the darkness was now threatening to swallow her whole.
“It’s okay, baby,” Mary assured her. Rubbing Carol’s arm, Mary held her gaze until Carol could blink her tears away. “It’s a hard day, but you’re okay.”
Carol nodded as she accepted the roll Lara held. Easing down at the table, she put the roll on a napkin. Mary and Lara joined her. Though they tried to distract her, Carol’s memories were stronger, and she couldn’t stop her mind from reliving days that she’d never forget.
Carol tensed as soon as she sat at a table in chemistry class. She had heard snickers from her classmates plenty of times, but she was in no mood for them today. She’d had a long night at the hospital. A stomach virus was going around St. Louis, and she’d spent far too much of her shift holding bedpans for people to vomit into.
Most of her classmates were years younger than her. She’d taken time away from her education to work as a nurse and be a wife and mother. Though she wasn’t that much older, the difference in maturity was glaring at times. This was one of them.
“My God, she smells like bleach and barf,” a particularly snotty classmate said. A few people at her table chuckled, but most ignored the comment.
Carol opened her mouth, about to tell the little twit to kiss her ass, when a deep voice from the table next to hers spoke up.
“Some people don’t have everything handed to them,” he said. “Some people have to work. Show some respect.”
Everyone, including Carol, turned to the table. Tobias Denman was staring at the younger woman, clearly not amused by her nasty observation. If this were high school instead of college—which in some ways, these hallways and classrooms were—Tobias would be the cool kid coming to the defense of the nerd. Tobias was the university’s football star. Everyone knew him. Carol was a shadow, drifting in and out of classrooms in her scrubs because she never had time to shower and change between work and school. She probably did smell like bleach and vomit, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends or win popularity contests.
The younger woman rolled her eyes and scoffed before whispering something to her friends. Carol shook her head. She wasn’t going to let someone who acted like that get under her skin. She’d been through a lot worse than schoolyard bullying.
By the time the lecture ended and her classmates shuffled from the room like cattle, Carol had already put the confrontation from her mind.
At least until Tobias stopped at her table. “You okay?” he asked. His voice rolled through her in an oddly soothing way, like an unexpected lullaby.
She grinned as she gathered her books. “You really think her snide comments get to me? I hear worse from my patients before I even start my shift.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of shit in the classroom, though. We’re all here trying to better ourselves.”
After stuffing her belongings into her backpack, she hefted the bag strap over one shoulder. “There’s always someone who has to cut everybody else down to feel good. I’m the outsider. Makes me an easy target. That’s her issue, not mine.”
He held his hand out. “Tobias Denman.”
Carol didn’t remind him that he was semifamous on campus. Though she didn’t attend sporting events, even she knew his name. Tobias Denman, superathlete.
Shaking his hand, she introduced herself. Nobody knew her name, which was how she preferred to get through life. Unseen. Unknown. Unbothered. “Carol Bowman.”
She’d stopped using Caroline when she’d started her new life in St. Louis, but she couldn’t bring herself to change her last name—that was the name her daughter had carried for her short life.
The warmth of Tobias’s hand sent tingles up Carol’s arm. He must have felt the strange sensations too, because he looked at their hands as if assessing their connection. She also focused on the hold they had on each other. His large hand engulfed her smaller one. His dark skin made hers seem even more pale than usual. She liked the contrast. Something about the way their skin colors were so different was comforting to her. Yin and yang. Balance.
“Are you hungry, Carol? I was about to go grab something to eat. My treat.”
His question caught her off guard. She stuttered before saying, “You don’t have to—”
“I want to. My mom’s a nurse,” he said, as if that explained his reason for offering to feed her. “I know how hard that job is. The stress takes a toll. You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that after a long shift. Let me try to make your day better.”
She gave him a tired smile and gently pulled her hand from his. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to. I deal with worse than that every time I walk into the hospital. She doesn’t bother me.”
“Well, she bothers me. I’m not the kind of guy who stands back and watches people get attacked for no reason.”
“That’s a good way to be. The world needs more of that.”
He suddenly appeared shy. “I have to confess something. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to ask you out since the semester began. I thought it’d be easier if I came to your rescue. You know, you’d be so filled with gratitude that maybe you’d ask me out instead, but you’re kind of blowing off my heroics.”
Carol’s heart did a funny little flip in her chest. He was asking her out? The surge of excitement quickly fizzled and caution creeped in. That old familiar need to look for ulterior motives sparked to life. Her shell was trying to close, to shut him out before he got too close and he had the ability to hurt her.
Tilting her head, Carol asked, “Do I look like I need to be rescued?”
“Actually,” he said softly, as if he was about to profess something else, “you look like you need a friend. You’re sad,” Tobias continued when she didn’t respond. “I can sense that about you. I have from the first time you walked into this classroom. Somebody hurt you. What happened?”
His words touched something unexpected. Her need to pull away halted. She was so good at hiding that she was shocked he’d seen her. If Carol was good at anything, it was blending into the background. Going unnoticed was so much easier. Not physically. Of course people saw her—she wasn’t invisible. But she could hide her feelings, her emotions, so well that she prevented anyone from connecting with her. From seeing her. But Tobias had seen through her, and he had the gall to tell her what he’d seen.
Carol pushed thoughts of Katie away before the words slipped from her lips. Before she told this stranger that her daughter had died. That she’d left her husband who had drank too much too often. That her life was one empty day after another and she had no idea what the future held. That the only reason she’d registered to get her master’s degree was because the only part of her that continued to make sense was her desire to be more than she was. All she had left of her former self was the ambition ins
tilled in her as a child.
Every day of her life was the same as the one before, and she was tired. She was tired and lost, and yes, she needed a friend.
Instead of saying any of that, she smirked. “If you got vomited on for a living, you’d be sad too.”
He laughed, and like magic, some of the pain in her soul eased. There was a light about him, calling her to him. The only other time in her life she’d experienced an instant connection like that was when she’d met John. However, John’s gravitational pull had been laden with warning signs that Carol had chosen to overlook.
She didn’t feel that sense of danger coming from Tobias. She was at peace. Calm. She was centered as he stared at her. When was the last time she’d felt centered? Had she ever?
“I am hungry,” she said, despite her brain telling her to run from this man before he could peel back her carefully constructed layers. She shut out the logic and listened to her heart. For once, she was going to trust her instincts and see where she ended up. “Let’s get something to eat.”
A bright smile spread across Tobias’s face. “Now you’re talking.”
As soon as Carol answered the incoming call on her cell phone, her mother asked, “Why do you sound so tired?”
Sitting at Mary’s kitchen table, Carol eyed the slice of pumpkin pie she’d served. She didn’t know why she’d gotten another slice. She’d already eaten pie. Something about Thanksgiving made indulgence appealing, but she didn’t have any more of an appetite now than she had earlier in the day.
“It’s been a long day,” Carol said.
“What happened?”
Carol smirked. “Thanksgiving happened, Mom. Cooking, cleaning, a houseful of people. I sound tired because I am tired. It’s been a long day,” she said again.
Judith was quiet, likely scowling on the other end of the call, but one of the things her mother had been working on was thinking before speaking. She’d learned that saying the first thing that came to mind wasn’t necessarily beneficial to the progress they had made in their relationship.
“How was your day?” Carol asked.
“Terrible. Instead of cooking here, Ellen convinced me to go to the community center to get a meal there. The turkey was dry, the potatoes were cold, and the rolls were so hard they could have hurt someone. The pie was obviously one of those cheap things you buy in the freezer section. I think the gravy came out of a jar. We won’t be doing that again.”
“It was fine,” Ellen said in the background.
“It was not,” Judith countered. “The turkey was dry.”
“We got to eat with our neighbors. It was fine.”
Carol smiled as she clearly pictured the two women bickering. “I’ll be there to help with Christmas dinner. We’ll make a turkey and homemade pie then, Mom.”
“How soon will you be here?”
“I need to reserve a spot for the RV, so I’m not sure. Next week probably.”
Judith was quiet for several seconds before saying, “It would be nice if you could give me some warning.”
“I will.”
“I need to make sure your aunt has time to clean up that mess she leaves in the spare room.”
“It’s her studio, Mom,” Carol said. “She’s allowed to leave a mess in her studio.”
“It’s a disaster. I don’t know how she finds anything in there.”
She was tempted to tell her mom she was living in an RV, that Aunt Ellen didn’t need to clean up her studio to make room. However, Carol was done having that conversation. The last time she’d visited, her mother nearly had a fit until Carol agreed to sleep on the uncomfortable sofa in her aunt’s art room. She was convinced that sleeping at a campground wasn’t safe.
“I’ll call Monday to make a reservation,” Carol said. “I’ll let you know when to expect me.”
“Thank you.” Another stretch of silence filled the line. “How is therapy going?”
Carol rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“You always say that.”
Pushing her plate away, Carol sat back and frowned. “Because saying anything more than that is too personal, Mom.”
“Too personal? I’m your mother.”
Carol almost laughed. That was the point. One of the many issues Carol was working through was her childhood. Though she and her mother were on even ground now, that didn’t mean a lifetime of Judith Stewart hadn’t left a mark on Carol’s psyche. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to share my counseling sessions with you.”
“I’m not asking you to…”
Ellen mumbled something in the background that Carol couldn’t make out, but whatever she’d said was enough to get her mother to stop pressing. Thank goodness for Aunt Ellen.
“What did you do today,” Carol asked, redirecting her mother’s attention, “besides eat bad food?”
As her mother ran down her day, Carol threw away the pie she hadn’t eaten and put her dish in the sink to be added to the dishwasher once the current load finished running. Hearing the distinctive beep of someone else calling her line, Carol pulled the phone from her ear. Like the savior she tended to be, Alyssa’s name appeared on the screen.
“Mom,” Carol said, “I’ve got another call coming in that I need to take. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”
Judith sighed, so Carol quickly added, “It’s a friend. We’re working on plans for meeting up.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Alyssa had been trying to talk Carol into heading back to Houston for at least a visit since the day Carol had left.
“Okay,” Judith said, sounding less offended. “Okay. I’m glad you’re getting out and seeing people. That’s important. Good night.”
“Night, Mom. Love you.” She barely heard her mother respond in kind before connecting to Alyssa’s call. “I don’t know why you’re calling, but thank you.”
She chuckled. “Saving you from your mother?”
“Saving is not quite accurate, but close enough that we don’t have to search for another way to put it.” Walking out the back door, Carol sat on the stairs before asking, “How was your day?”
Alyssa didn’t answer, and Carol’s smile faded. Clearly Alyssa probably wasn’t just calling to check on her. Alyssa and her husband had been having problems for several months now. Longer, really, but only recently had it seemed things were coming to a head. “What happened, Lys?”
“Jason and I had a fight on the way home from his mom’s house after dinner. He’s going to move out for a while.”
Carol closed her eyes and did her best to hold in the sigh that wanted to leave her. She hated when her mother exhaled those long, disappointing breaths. She wasn’t going to do that to her friend. She’d had so many talks with Alyssa about her marital problems that she wasn’t surprised, but she’d hoped they could work things out. “I’m sorry.”
“I get why this is so hard for you now. I’m not a widow but…the idea of my husband not being here every day…”
“I know,” Carol said. “That’s difficult.”
Alyssa sniffled, and Carol wished she could hug her friend. If she were in Houston, they’d be sitting on Carol’s couch sipping wine as they consoled each other.
“Tell me you’re coming home soon,” Alyssa said softly. “I need you right now.”
Carol looked up at the sky. The city lights weren’t visible from Mary’s backyard but were bright enough to block out the stars. The barely illuminated sky seemed fitting. “I’m spending Christmas with Mom,” Carol said. “Then I’ll swing through Houston.”
“Swing through?” Alyssa asked, sounding like she was about to cry. “Carol. Please. We both know where this is headed. I’m going to get divorced.”
Carol closed her eyes when Alyssa’s voice cracked. The one and only time Carol had ever been asked to be a matron of honor was at Alyssa’s wedding. Her friend had only been married nine years. Not nearly long enough to give up. “You don’t know that.”
“I do. I’ve known that for a long time. I’ve been tellin
g you for months. He doesn’t love me anymore.”
“You—” Carol stopped herself from telling Alyssa she had to try harder, talk more, be more present. She’d been on the receiving end of unwanted advice since Tobias had died. She didn’t want to do that to her friend. “He loves you, Lys. Even if things have gotten bad, he still loves you. He always will.”
Alyssa let out a soft crying sound.
“I’m here for you,” Carol said softly, “but I don’t know if I can come back to Houston to stay. Being in St. Louis is hard enough, and we haven’t lived here for years. Being in Houston without Tobias… I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I know,” Alyssa said. “I’m being selfish.”
Carol smiled. “No, I’m honored that you need me. I’m just not in a good place either.” Rather than let the conversation dissolve into analyzing Carol’s problems, she said, “Tell me what happened. Why were you fighting?”
As she listened, Carol thought how she’d give anything if her biggest problem this holiday season was not feeling heard by her spouse. She’d give anything if Tobias was simply fed up with her bad habits instead of lying in a grave a few miles away.
Though she wanted to remind Alyssa how lucky she was that Jason was there to work through their problems, Carol kept that bit of wisdom to herself.
Six
Carol frowned and shook her head at the sweater Lara held up. The little boutique was crammed full of people bumping into one another, rushing to get merchandise before the shelves ran out of the size, color, or design they wanted. Carol didn’t usually mind these types of scenes, but she hadn’t been sleeping well and would have preferred to stay at Mary’s, sitting on the sofa reading a book that had nothing to do with the holidays.
“You’re making this difficult,” Lara muttered as she carelessly refolded the sweater and dropped the wool onto the shelf.
“In what world would that color look good on me?”
Lara eyed the mustard yellow–dyed wool and then Carol. “So, pick something else. Mary wants to buy you a nice, warm sweater.”
