by Marci Bolden
“Enough,” her mom insisted, tugging Carol’s hand. “Please. Caroline, this is enough.”
Instead of letting her mom pull her back to the edge, Carol forced air into her lungs and let her knees fold until she was fully submerged.
She hadn’t been under water in decades. Hadn’t felt her hair float around her face. Hadn’t heard how the beating of a heartbeat was amplified underwater. The pounding echoed through her ears. Anxiety filled every bit of her until she might burst. Carol sat on the bottom, focused on her fear, making herself feel every emotion this moment was forcing on her until two sets of hands pulled her up.
She gasped for air as she broke the surface. Breathless, she met her mom’s concerned gaze.
Judith frown as she wiped water from Carol’s face. “That’s enough,” she said again. This time. her voice trembled and tears caused her eyes to shimmer. “Please. No more.”
Carol fell into her mom, embracing her as she sobbed. Judith held her and hugged her close for a long time. But then, Carol’s fear and sadness changed to something else. “Oh no,” she muttered, pulling away. “I think I’m gonna—”
“Oh my,” Judith muttered as Carol leaned over and vomited into the pool.
“Clean up on aisle two.” Ellen giggled at her comment, even though no one else did.
Carol lurched again, heaved several times, and then stood up. “Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” Judith said as she brushed wet strands of hair from Carol’s face. “This is a community of old people. You wouldn’t believe the things the cleaning crew has had to scoop out of this pool.”
Carol wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she grimaced at the water where she’d been submerged. “Ew.”
Ten
Carol pulled the blue and green tartan blanket tighter around her as her mom set a cup of tea on the end table. Tearing her attention from the twinkling white lights on the small tree they’d decorated earlier in the day before they’d gone to the pool house, Carol muttered her thanks.
Judith eased down and put her hand on Carol’s knee. “How are you?”
Rather than admit her head was throbbing from her spiked blood pressure or that she was so emotionally drained she could sleep for weeks, Carol said, “I’m okay, Mom. I’m sorry about today. For some reason, I thought going into the pool would help, but…” Her words trailed off, and they sat quietly for several moments.
“Nothing is going to make losing your husband or your daughter better, Carol. You have to know this by now. All you can do is find a way to carry on.”
“I’m working on that.”
“I don’t think—”
Carol closed her eyes. “Mom. Please don’t try to tell me how to cope with all the things I’ve gone through. Please. I know you’re worried, I appreciate that, but you can’t help with this. You just can’t.”
Judith was quiet for a few moments before saying, “Seeing you suffer, knowing I can’t help you, is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life because I know nothing I do is going to help. If I could take all your pain away, I would.”
Carol sniffed as she gripped her mom’s hand. “But you can’t.”
Putting her arm around Carol, Judith gave her a slight hug and kissed her temple. “You’re doing great. I don’t tell you that enough, but it’s true. I’m really proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Carol said. “I’m proud of you too. We’ve both overcome some really tragic things.”
“I’ve overcome them,” Judith clarified. “You’re a work in progress.”
Despite her miserable mood, Carol chuckled. However, her smile faded quickly. “I hate Christmas,” she confessed. “Every year seems worse than the one before. I feel so empty during the holidays.”
“Well,” Judith said quietly, “this is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time. This is the first one we’ve spent together since we lost Katie.”
Tears bit at Carol’s eyes, and she sniffed. “I would do so many things differently if I could.”
“But you can’t,” Judith reminded her. “None of us can. We can only move forward.”
“Oh,” Carol moaned. “Did you slip a life lesson in there?”
“I tried.”
Carol shook her head. “I can’t get used to how…human you are now.”
“It’s the medication,” Judith countered and then smiled. She hugged Carol closer. “I wish I’d been brave enough to get help sooner. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone through so much of this on your own. But I am very happy you’re getting help now.”
“Me too.”
“What you did today was very brave,” Judith said.
Carol snickered. “Tell that to the maintenance man.”
“Tobias would be proud.”
“I hope so.”
“He would be.” Judith put her head to Carol’s. “So would your dad,” she whispered.
Carol pressed her cold fingers against her closed eyes. “God, I miss him so much. I never thought I would say that.”
They were quiet for several seconds before Judith patted Carol’s hand. “I picked out something special for you for Christmas, but I want you to have it now. I’ll be right back.”
After snagging a tissue from the box on the end table beside her, Carol dried her eyes and wiped her nose. She frowned at the empty wineglass beside her, debating if she wanted to get up to refill her drink or not. Her mom had brought her tea, but that wasn’t going to take the edge off her raw emotions. Not unless her mom fixed tea the way Aunt Ellen did—with a hefty shot of tequila.
The odds of that were not in Carol’s favor. She opted to take a sip to test the drink. Her mom hadn’t even added sugar.
“Nasty,” Carol mumbled, scrunching up her nose.
“I found this after your last visit,” Judith said, walking back into the room. “I’d packed this away when I moved here and hadn’t seen it since.”
Carol accepted the small, Santa-covered gift bag from her mom. Taking the red tissue paper from the top, she reached in and pulled out a framed photo she’d never seen. The picture had been taken on Katie’s sixth birthday, a few weeks before she’d died. Carol’s dad had draped one arm around Judith and the other around Carol. Katie stood in front of them, beaming brightly in her purple birthday dress and the red rain boots she rarely took off.
Though the three adults in the image barely spoke to one another at the time, they were all smiling. Carol had no doubt John’s mother had directed them how to pose for the photo. She was always trying to help make things better between Carol and her parents. Throwing Katie into the mix had clearly done the trick. There wasn’t a bit of evidence of the tension that was boiling right below the surface.
Carol had never seen the photo. She’d probably left Ohio before the film had even been developed. Katie hadn’t lived long after the picture had been taken, and Carol hadn’t stuck around long after that. In fact, this had to have been the very last picture ever taken of the four of them together. One of the last pictures ever taken of Katie.
“This was a good day,” Judith whispered.
Carol took a few breaths before shaking her head. “John and I tried so hard to give her a good life, but we fought so much. Katie knew.”
Judith pointed to the picture. “Look at her smile, Carol. She had a wonderful day. She was so happy. Focus on that. She loved you. So did your dad.” Judith kissed Carol’s head. “So does your mom.”
Carol hugged the photo to her chest as her tears welled again. “I love you too, Mom. Thank you for this. I really needed to see this.”
“Are you sure you want to go back to Houston so soon?”
Carol shrugged. “Alyssa wants me to stay with her for a while.”
“Well, I, for one, am very happy you won’t be on the road by yourself.”
Carol grinned. “Oh, Mom, I had no idea my traveling alone made you uncomfortable.”
Judith scoffed. “Not that my concerns matter to
you.”
“They matter.” Carol took her mom’s hand and entwined their fingers. “I’m glad we can talk like this now.”
“So am I. We had some tough years.”
Carol smirked. That was putting their rough relationship mildly, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that. “My friend Simon has a house in Missouri. He asked me to visit him there.”
Judith didn’t respond. She likely didn’t know how.
“I told him I couldn’t because…” Carol didn’t finish her thought.
Finally, Judith pressed. “Because?”
“Because talking with him now is as comforting as it was all those years ago. I’m pretty sure I can predict what would happen if we were together for too long. Even thinking that might happen makes me feel…” She scoffed. “Is it adultery if your husband is dead? Because I feel guilty even thinking that someday I might want…you know.”
Judith shifted as she averted her eyes, looking around the room. “I, um, I’m probably not the one to talk to about sex.”
Carol cringed. “Ugh, I’m not talking about sex. I mean…not exactly.” Carol ran her hand over her face. “Emotionally. I feel like I’m cheating on Tobias just thinking that maybe someday I’ll want another man to want me.”
Judith shifted, opened and closed her mouth a few times, and then sighed. “I don’t know, Carol.” She faced the kitchen and yelled, “Ellen!”
Carol’s heart dropped to her stomach. “No, Mom. Don’t ask Aunt Ellen. Don’t.”
Ellen stepped into the living room with a wineglass in one hand and a bottle in the other. “What?”
“How long did you wait to have sex after Bert died?” Judith asked.
Carol sank down in the sofa. “This is not something I want to know.”
“Um, about three months.”
Carol’s discomfort was diminished by her shock. She gawked at her aunt. “What?”
“His best friend was a very handsome man,” Ellen justified. “Why? Oh! Are we talking about Simon?” Ellen practically ran into the room and sat in one of the chairs with bright eyes and a big smile. “Tell me everything.”
Every time Caroline started to feel guilty about having an affair with Simon, John would do something so incredibly stupid that her guilt was squashed with a litany of justifications. This time, Caroline had spent the day before—her only day off this week—getting quotes on repairs for the car because John had sideswiped something. He didn’t even know what… Just “something.” Of course he insisted the accident wasn’t his fault, and sure, he’d had a beer or two, but he’d been sober enough to drive.
Caroline had screamed and ranted. He was a cop, for God’s sake! He knew what happened when people drank and drove. He knew the destruction he could cause them or some other family. And he’d better never, ever drive drunk with Katie in the car, so help her God.
Her screaming had been futile. She knew as well as he did. The fights, the threats, the never-ending cycle of her threatening to wash her hands of him only to stay were over and done by the next day. Caroline had found someone to make the repairs on the car that would fit in their measly budget.
“Where’s your mind?”
With a few blinks, she banished thoughts of her husband and refocused on the man she loved. “Sorry,” she said and offered Simon a sweet smile.
“What’s going on?”
She shook her head, knowing how their conversation would go if she mentioned her husband. Simon was as supportive as he could be, but he hadn’t been very subtle in his desire for her to leave John. He hadn’t outright asked her to leave John yet, but Caroline suspected the conversation would happen soon.
She hoped she was wrong. She didn’t want to be put in a position to choose between her happiness and Katie’s, and she knew that’s what the choice would come down to. Eventually, though, Simon was going to broach the topic, and Caroline was going to have to stop pretending that she could have this relationship without consequence.
She inhaled the morning air. Their shift had ended, and like they tended to do these days, she’d followed him to his apartment. They’d made love and then moved to sit on his balcony. The little outdoor space overlooked the busy street leading to the children’s hospital where they worked. Most mornings, they’d sit and have one cup of coffee before Caroline slipped from this calm, quiet world and headed to the chaos that was her home.
“John?” Simon pressed.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I would disagree. You’ve been distracted all morning.”
She grinned at him. “Not all morning.”
He didn’t even smile. “What did he do?”
Caroline shook her head. “Drop it.”
“No.”
Startled by his persistence, she gawked at him. A million rebuttals ran through her mind, but she opted to push herself up instead of engaging. She dumped what was left in her mug down the sink when he leaned on the island across from her. Focusing on his eyes, she caved, as she tended to do.
“He wrecked the car,” she stated. “The only car we have because we can’t afford to get a second one. I spent all day yesterday finding someone to do cheap repairs because cheap is all we can afford. That’s all we can afford because John is completely fucking irresponsible.” She stared at Simon. Waiting. “This is the part when you tell me to leave him.”
“If I told you to leave him, would you?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It’ll be that easy when you’re ready.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What does that mean?”
“That means you’ll leave him when you’re ready. I hope it’s soon, because I love you, but you have to make that decision for yourself, Caroline. You’re a smart woman. You’re a good mother. You’ll know when it’s time.”
Her defenses fell and her shoulders sagged. “I already know,” she confessed. “He’s never going to change. He’s never going to stop making my life hell. But then I see him with our daughter, and I know he could be better. I know could he be. He’s such a good father. Katie adores him.” Caroline shrugged as she looked at him. “How do I reconcile leaving when I’m the only one who’s miserable?”
“You reconcile leaving by remembering you matter too. Your happiness matters too. One of these days, the scales will tip far enough for you to understand that.”
Her heart ached as she walked around the counter and into his arms. “It’s not right for me to put you through this. This is my mess, not yours.”
He hugged her close and kissed her head. “I walked into this knowing you were married. I can’t exactly hold you accountable.”
“You could,” she said, leaning her head back to look up at him. She smiled. “But you’re better than that.”
“I am pretty awesome,” he said.
She laughed and kissed him. “You’re amazing, and I’m lucky to have you.” After one more kiss, she pulled away. “I need to go.”
He followed her to the door. “If I asked you to leave him, would you?”
She focused on pushing her feet into her worn-out sneakers. After several long seconds, she looked at him. “I don’t know. Things aren’t that black and white, Simon. I love you. I do.”
“We could have an amazing life together. I’d never stop trying to make you happy.”
She did know that. She knew that in the depths of her soul. “Katie’s happiness comes first,” Caroline said. “There will never be a day when I choose my happiness over hers.”
He looked sad but pushed a smile to his lips. “That’s what makes you such a good mom.” He closed the distance between them and kissed her lightly. “Go home. To Katie. I’ll see you at work tonight.”
She opened the door and glanced back. The sense of dread she’d had earlier returned. As much as she loved Simon, as much as she belonged with him, this affair was going to have to end sooner rather than later.
Before someone really got hurt.
After ignoring two calls and se
veral texts from Simon, Carol broke down and answered his third call. Though his attempts to reach her had been spread over the last two days, she was irritated by his persistence. No. That wasn’t what was irritating her. She was irritated because she hated the imbalance she’d been feeling lately. No matter how much work she put into finding her way, she ended up unsure which way to go, which step to take next.
She had convinced herself getting into the pool would somehow jar her mind free from this roller coaster, but the ride continued. Though she knew that wasn’t his intent, Simon was adding to the discord hounding her.
As she connected the call, Carol walked into the spare room, which was actually Ellen’s painting studio. “Hey.”
Simon was quiet for a moment, and Carol realized she’d likely sounded snippy. She hadn’t intended to. The last person she could blame for her irritability was Simon.
After blowing out some of her annoyance, she tried again. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he said somewhat hesitantly. “How are you?”
She stacked a few pillows together so she didn’t feel like the cushions were swallowing her before sitting on the couch. The bright red sofa was too soft for Carol’s liking, but Judith wasn’t comfortable with Carol staying at the campground alone. The last time Carol had visited, her sleeping arrangements had been the source of one of the many fights they’d had. Rather than even debate the issue this visit, Carol slept on the couch that didn’t offer nearly enough support.
“Tired. And maybe a little cranky,” she admitted. “The sleeping arrangements at Mom’s aren’t up to my high standards.”
Simon laughed softly. “Well, we can’t always find five-star hotels when we need them.”
She smiled, and some of the tension she’d been carrying eased. “She isn’t comfortable with me staying at the campground, so to cater to her fears, I sleep on an uncomfortable sofa that hurts my back rather than the exceptionally comfortable mattress in my RV.”
“Oh, the sacrifices we make for our parents.”
“You have no idea,” Carol muttered.
