A Life Without Regrets

by Marci Bolden

“I was starting to worry,” he said more seriously. “Everything okay?”

  Looking around the paintings hanging on the wall, Carol’s gaze fell on the one that had become her favorite. Rain poured down on a woman with her arms open and her head back, her dress flowing as she danced. The image stirred a bit of foolish jealousy in Carol’s heart. Even though the image was a painting, Carol was reminded that she’d never been so carefree. Something inside her had yearned for that kind of freedom for so long, but she’d never been able to give in.

  She wished she could let her guard down and simply be.

  Ellen had that ability, but Carol had been raised by Judith. Carol had spent her entire life calculating every move she made. Her entire existence had been meticulously planned. Even now, with the so-called freedom that came with being on the road, Carol managed to work out every detail before taking the next step.

  That was exhausting. She was exhausted. She wished she could take a vacation from her mind and all the games it played with her. If she could escape herself for a day or two, maybe she’d feel rested. Maybe she could find her way again.

  “Caroline?” Simon pulled her mind back to the conversation. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve had a bit of a rough day,” she said honestly. “I’m probably not good company tonight, Simon. I should let you go.”

  “No,” he stated quickly, as if he feared she’d hang up without giving him a chance to respond. “Talk to me.”

  Carol stared at the painting again. “I think being on the road is catching up with me. I’m exhausted.”

  “You didn’t answer my call yesterday. Did something happen?” he asked.

  A flash of the pool house hit her and took her breath away. Monsters disguised as memories clawed at her, threatening to pull her apart. Pushing herself to her feet, Carol escaped in the nick of time. She stepped closer to the painting, focused on the finer details—the breaks in the strokes that weren’t quite even and the spots where the brush bristles went slightly wayward.

  Aunt Ellen had been an art teacher when she was younger. She’d taught Carol so much about painting, but Carol had never been able to see beyond those minor mistakes and enjoy creating images. She obsessed about the things that were wrong, losing sight of what was right.

  “Hey,” Simon gently coaxed. “What happened?”

  “I got in the pool,” she said numbly, separating herself from the anxiety the words elicited within her.

  Simon was quiet for a few seconds. “How far?”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to forget the feel of the cold on her face, the way her hair brushed against her cheeks, and how her clothes clung to her as her mom and aunt pulled her back to the surface. Simply thinking about those few seconds under the water made her stomach roll again. “All the way. I went under.”

  “That must have been difficult.”

  She cringed as another memory came to her. “I vomited. In the water. They had to close the entire pool for a few hours to flush the water.”

  He didn’t laugh, but when he spoke, she could practically see the smile on his face. “I’m sure that will give the community something to talk about for a while.”

  “No doubt.”

  “How are you feeling about that today?” he asked.

  “The gossip or the breakthrough?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  She turned away from the painting to peer out the window. The near-full moon stood out against the dark sky, demanding to be seen. Looking up at the silver orb pulled a truth she wasn’t sure she wanted to share. “I think…” Her voice cracked as her emotions stirred unexpectedly. “I’m so tired of feeling like I’m broken. I’ve felt so broken for so long, and I’m tired. Down to my bones. I’m tired.”

  “You’re carrying a lot of weight. You’re bound to feel tired from time to time.”

  Carol blinked several times. She’d almost forgotten she was talking to someone other than the moon. Turning from the window, she grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table and wiped her cheeks. “I’m not going to dump this on you. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Caroline,” he called. “You’re not dumping on me. I’m talking to you because I want to. I want to help you. Don’t shut me out.”

  She closed her eyes at his plea. She’d be angry that someone else was accusing her of shutting him out, but everyone who knew her knew that was what she did. She pulled away. She locked herself away. Even Simon, a man she’d barely reconnected with after decades, knew this about her.

  Wasn’t that the one thing she was working the hardest to change? Her habit of shutting people out when she was hurting the most?

  “I faced a really big fear,” she said. “I think that’s shaken me more than I realized.”

  “Of course it has. Growth isn’t for the faint of heart,” he said. “Pushing through those boundaries is painful and scary. But you did it. You faced something that has haunted you for a really long time. Of course you’re shaken, sweetheart, but you faced it. Be proud of that.”

  She sniffed. “I’ll probably never step foot in a pool again. The thought makes my heart race and my hands tremble.”

  “That’s okay,” Simon assured her. “You don’t have to. Once is enough. Once is all you need to take a step forward.”

  Tugging a thread that had come loose on her T-shirt, Carol debated how much she should share. She knew Simon wouldn’t judge her. He was better than that. But she’d spent her entire life protecting herself from what others might think. Wrapping the string around her finger, she made a deal with herself—if the string broke free when she pulled, she’d tell him; if the thin thread stayed attached to the material, she’d change the subject.

  She pulled. The string broke.

  Shit.

  After licking her lips, she blurted out, “There’s more. My therapist… She says I have PTSD. That’s not a surprise,” she said quickly. “I’ve been through so much. Dad, John, Katie, Tobias.”

  “Having someone give what you’re going through a name makes it real,” he said.

  Hearing him say exactly what she’d been thinking made fat tears fall down her cheeks. He understood. Of course he understood. He always had.

  Carol sniffed. “Apparently my ability to turn into an emotionless android at will isn’t normal. Who knew? I thought having that much control over my mind was my superpower.”

  Once again, Simon didn’t laugh, mostly because her joke was a blatantly lame attempt to make herself feel better.

  “You know,” he said instead, using the same tender voice, “you’ve been dealt a bad hand from the start. This didn’t start with John.”

  “No, it didn’t,” she agreed. “I’ve been like this forever. Since I was a kid. Making amends with Mom let me see Dad in a different way, but that doesn’t change the way I was raised. Trying to understand his parental approach doesn’t lessen the cloud of intimidation I grew up under. Sympathizing with his problems doesn’t take away the fear I lived with every day as a kid.”

  “It doesn’t,” Simon agreed. “You can’t change the past, but now that you have a name for the thing that’s haunted you, you’ll be better prepared to take on the healing process.” He was using the supportive and kind voice she’d heard whenever he spoke to parents about their child’s health and treatment. This was the side of him she’d fallen for all those years ago. The supporter. The healer. The caregiver.

  Simon was her first experience with a man who understood that kindness wasn’t weakness. He’d made her realize that was the type of man she wanted. She didn’t need the angry overlord like her father or the deceitful charmer like John. She’d needed the softness she’d found first in Simon and then in Tobias.

  He’d taught her that she needed and deserved a man she didn’t have to protect herself from. Unfortunately, as wonderful as Tobias had been, Carol had never unlearned the need to hide part of herself away. She’d never allowed herself to show him how fractured she really was.

  Even i
f she and Simon weren’t together now, she didn’t want to hide from him. She was so very weary of hiding, of protecting herself and everyone around her from the darkness she knew lurked in her mind.

  She had an illness. The reason she’d felt damaged for so long was because something was damaged. Something that could be treated. Something that could be healed. Despite the losses, the pain, the traumas…she could heal. Hearing Simon acknowledge, understand, and open the door to help her take the next step gave her a stirring of hope she hadn’t felt in some time.

  Putting her hand to her face, she forced herself to keep her tears at bay. “Okay,” she said, her voice heavy from the emotions she was fighting. “I have a name. Now what?”

  “Now you work with your doctor to find the best treatment. This is like any other illness, Caroline. You have to know what you’re dealing with before you can find the cure.”

  “What if there is no cure?” she asked, voicing a fear she hadn’t allowed herself to consider.

  “Even if there isn’t a cure, there have to be ways to make the symptoms better. You’re dealing with a disorder. There are treatments. You have options. We just have to find the best one.”

  She heard the pecking of his fingers on a keyboard on the other end. He was researching. He was looking for answers. Instead of judging her or backing away when she told him what she was up against, he was stepping up to help her find the way. He was doing what she’d known he would do, despite the voice in her mind warning her that he would turn and run.

  She really had to stop listening to that voice. That was the voice that had stopped her from admitting to Tobias how dark her world became every June when she was faced with Katie’s birthday and the anniversary of her death. That voice had told her she wasn’t worthy of Tobias and all the love he’d showered her with. That voice had convinced her to fake her way through his attempts at getting her help over the years.

  She still had the same fear that she was going to be rejected for not being perfect. A fear her father had unwittingly embedded so deep in her psyche, she didn’t know how she’d ever overcome it, even with the help of a qualified professional.

  “I knew,” she admitted as he continued to type. “I’ve known for a long time that something was wrong. I would joke about how good I was at shutting down, but I never gave the issue any real thought, you know?”

  “That kind of denial isn’t uncommon, sweetheart. Many of us know we have a problem and choose to pretend that acknowledging it means we’re somehow in control.”

  “Simon?” she asked when he grew quiet, likely reading whatever report he’d found.

  “Hmm?”

  Carol swallowed hard. “You’re the only person I’ve told. I mean, I’ve told some family and friends that I’m seeing a counselor, but you’re the only one I’ve told about the diagnosis. I don’t know why, but I’m not ready for anyone else to know that.”

  “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me.”

  She hesitated before admitting, “I do trust you. I really do. That’s not easy for me.”

  “I promise you won’t regret opening up to me. I’m going to be here for whatever you need. Do you want help figuring out the next step?”

  With that one question, a weight was lifted from her chest. She was able to take a breath. To think. To look at the next step and not feel so overwhelmed.

  Eleven

  Carol slipped her tennis shoes on as she narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Are you wearing makeup?” She hadn’t seen her mom with blush and lipstick on in years, but the telltale signs of pink were obvious.

  Judith rolled her shoulders back in the way she did before digging her heels in. “I’m allowed.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t,” Carol responded. “I’m surprised. That’s all.” She turned toward her aunt, who was pulling on a sweater. Ellen winked at her with a glimmer of her usual mischievousness. There was something amiss, but Carol couldn’t pinpoint what. An undercurrent between Judith and Ellen implied secrets Carol didn’t know.

  “Are we going?” Judith asked.

  “We’re going,” Ellen said.

  As they walked out into the morning sunshine, Carol grabbed Ellen’s arm and pulled her back a few steps. “What’s with her?” she asked her aunt.

  “I can’t tell you. She made me promise.”

  Carol tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Aunt Ellen.”

  Ellen made the motion of zipping her lips, locking them, and tossing away the key. “You’re a smart kid. You’ll figure everything out soon enough.”

  Carol wanted to press but knew better. Her aunt was clearly enjoying the game, whatever it was, and looking forward to seeing Carol catch on. Walking between the two older women, Carol tried to put the puzzle together as they made their way toward the community center of the retirement community.

  The last time she’d visited her mom, they hadn’t stepped foot in the center. This would be the second time since Carol had arrived a few days prior. She guessed her mom and aunt were more settled in now, more open to connecting with their neighbors, since they were so determined to go to the neighborhood holiday party. But then Carol thought about her mom’s makeup and how she’d taken her time styling her hair into her signature bun. The sweater she wore was adorned with a butterfly-shaped brooch decorated with colorful gems. Carol remembered her grandmother wearing the pin years and years ago. Her mother had only worn it for special occasions—especially when she was trying to impress someone.

  She managed to contain the gasp, but she couldn’t stop herself from gawking at her mother with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Jerking her head to her aunt, the same shock on her face, Carol discreetly pointed to her mom and mouthed, Is she…

  Ellen snickered and gently nudged Carol.

  “I can see you two,” Judith snapped. “I’m not blind.”

  “Mom,” Carol said with all the astonishment she was feeling. Focusing on the woman who had been too stuck up for her own good most of her life, Carol tried to control her smile. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Judith frowned at Carol but outright glared at Ellen when she laughed. “Stop it.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Ellen said, even though she was giggling.

  Carol forced her grin away as she gave her mother a stern frown. “I hope you remember what you told me when I started dating John.”

  “Caroline,” Judith warned.

  Leveling her eyes at her mother, Carol said, “Men are only after one thing.”

  “Don’t give away the milk before you sell the cow,” Ellen said.

  Carol’s faux sternness gave way as she laughed at her aunt’s advice.

  Judith clearly wasn’t amused. “You’re both juvenile,” she stated as she continued walking. “I’m not dating anyone. I’m too old for that.”

  “Too old my ass. You’ve got a pulse, don’t you?” Ellen asked.

  “Barely,” Judith countered. “Leonard is a very nice man. He’s a good friend. We enjoy each other’s company, but that’s all.”

  Carol heard echoes of herself in that statement. Hadn’t she said that about Simon repeatedly? Rather than continue to tease her mom, Carol backed off, the way she had insisted Lara do. “That’s good, Mom. I’m glad you found a new friend.”

  “Thank you,” Judith said.

  They finished the walk talking about anything other than Leonard or the fact that Judith had primped before meeting her friend. Once they walked inside, though, Ellen nudged Carol and nodded toward a silver-haired man making his way toward them with a big grin on his face. Slightly hunched, he scooted along with the help of a walker.

  Slide, step, step.

  Slide, step, step.

  His smile never eased once.

  When the man finally reached the women, he took Carol’s hand without hesitation. However, he didn’t shake it in a greeting. He wrapped both hands around hers and clutched her fingers like they were old friends themselves.

  “You look so much li
ke your mother,” he said with a tender smile. “She talks about you all the time, Carol.”

  A few months ago, the comparison between her and her mother would have made Carol cringe. Now that she and her mom were on better terms, the idea of being a younger version of Judith Stewart wasn’t nearly as offensive. Carol thanked him, ready to make small talk to get to know him a little, but he dropped her hand like a hot potato and turned to Judith. The moment he focused on her, Carol may as well have disappeared. Within moments, Judith and Leonard were walking away without another word.

  Ellen put her arm around Carol’s waist. “Nope. Nothing happening there.”

  “Oh my God,” Carol muttered. “They’re adorable.”

  “Oh, honey, don’t let your mother hear you say that. She’ll never tolerate being called adorable.”

  Carol chuckled, mostly because her aunt was right. “I guess you’re stuck with me.”

  “I could do worse, kiddo. How about a game of checkers?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” As they walked to an empty table, Carol glanced at her mom and her heart nearly melted. She’d never seen her mom happy. Not really happy. Judith had suffered from depression most of Carol’s life. Carol had grown up being kept at arm’s length from her parents and feeling like a burden. Only recently had she realized how hard her mom had worked to keep putting one foot in front of the other. For decades, Carol had resented how she’d been raised. Now she could see how hard her mom had been fighting her own demons. Seeing Judith smile almost brought tears to Carol’s eyes.

  She hoped whatever was happening between Judith and Leonard kept growing and making her mom smile like that. She deserved to be happy after all these years. Even if her mom was in her midseventies, she deserved happiness, love, and—if Carol was interpreting the exchange correctly—someone to flirt with.

  “When did this start?” Carol asked her aunt as they settled in to play a game.

  “A few weeks ago. Don’t worry,” Ellen said, sliding the red checkers to Carol while she kept the black for herself. “I’ve already had your cousins research him on the Internet. He’s clean.”