by Marci Bolden
He gave her a place to go when she had nowhere else to turn.
She had a home, and thanks to Simon, she had the phone number of the head nurse at the hospital where he used to work. She had a lead on a job.
She had everything she could possibly need to start over.
Everything but her daughter.
Taking her suitcase and the small purple bag of Katie’s belongings Caroline had packed before leaving John without a word, she headed for the front door of her new home. She stepped inside the empty house and took in the old wood floors and white walls. The house was small but had more than enough room for one person.
Standing in the middle of the living room, she could easily picture Simon’s furniture in the space. She could imagine him sitting on the sofa talking about his day while he lazily ran his hand up and down her leg.
She wished playing out that scene brought the kind of comfort she’d found a few months ago, back when he was the anchor in her storm. Back when her storm, which had been so overwhelming, was nothing more than a little thunder. The storm consuming her now was more like a hurricane, and even memories of Simon weren’t enough to calm her.
This was her life now. This empty house. This foreign place. This quiet.
It was the quiet that was going to do her in. No more incessant talking about whatever had drawn Katie’s attention. No more begging for story time. No more songs being sung with the wrong words and off-key. No more asking Katie to be quiet for just one minute so Mama could think.
No more Katie.
Caroline was supposed to keep going. Somehow.
She was supposed to make a new life for herself now. At least, that was the speech she’d given herself for the entire six-hour drive from Dayton to St. Louis. Simon had given her a place to stay and a contact to help her find a new job. He’d given her a place to land.
All she had to do was find a way to get on her feet. All she had to do was learn how to live without her child.
Easing down the bags, Caroline sat on the stairs a few feet inside the front door and fumbled with the latch on the tiny backpack she’d brought with her. When she was able to lift the top, she reached in, hoping she wouldn’t find what she was seeking. Part of her still hoped she was trapped in some kind of nightmare and that she’d wake up soon.
Unfortunately, her fingers brushed the cool metal of the urn she’d put inside as she’d walked out on her old life, confirming what she already knew. This was no dream. Her little girl was dead. Pulling the urn out, Caroline brushed her thumb across the engraving over and over.
She stared at her daughter’s name and the date of Katie’s death, stuck in some strange limbo of not believing this could possibly be true and knowing she had to accept reality so she could find a way to keep going.
The sob that forced itself up her throat echoed around the house.
The searing pain in her chest was becoming too familiar. She had been numb for weeks following Katie’s death. The doctor had prescribed her sedatives, and she’d been eager to take them. The drugs had kept this pain at a manageable level. Her mind was desensitized enough that she hadn’t been able to fully connect with how much she was hurting. That fog was lifting now. That pain was hitting her. Hard. The ache started in Caroline’s heart and burned through her until she couldn’t inhale.
“Excuse me,” a gentle voice said.
Caroline jolted as she looked up through her tears at an elderly woman standing in the front door. For a moment, she feared she’d walked into the wrong house.
Then the woman smiled sweetly as she held out a tissue. “You must be Caroline.”
Confused, Caroline managed to nod.
The woman came closer, lifting the tissue again. “I’m Genetta Walker from next door. Dr. Miller called. He said you’d be moving in for a spell.” Her dark eyes drifted down to the urn in Caroline’s hands and her shoulders sagged. “I was so sorry to hear about your little girl, honey. No mother should go through that. I promised Dr. Miller I’d be here if you needed anything.”
Caroline didn’t respond. She couldn’t quite understand what was happening.
“When is your furniture coming?” Genetta asked.
Finally accepting the tissue, Caroline dabbed her nose before asking, “Furniture?”
Genetta tilted her head. “Do you have a bed? A couch?”
Caroline shook her head. “I, um, I left that…with…” She almost said she’d left that with her husband, but she refused to keep giving John that title. John Bowman wasn’t worthy of that title any more than he’d been worthy of being Katie’s father.
“That’s okay.” Genetta put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “I’ll call my church. We’ll get you some things. Don’t you worry about that. When’s the last time you ate?”
“Um. I don’t know… Yesterday, I guess.”
“Well,” Genetta said sweetly. “Let’s start by getting something in your stomach.”
Caroline couldn’t recall how, but somehow, she ended up at Genetta Walker’s table eating some kind of casserole. While she sat silently at the table, Genetta made several phone calls, whispering into the receiver while constantly glancing at Caroline with sad eyes. Caroline would smile each time, robotically, automatically, without feeling. She was thankful for Genetta’s kindness, she was thankful for the food, but part of her wanted to be sitting on those stairs, crying as she hugged Katie’s urn.
She just wanted to be still. Alone. Surrounded by the pain of her loss.
Genetta hadn’t allowed that. She’d fed Caroline, walked her to her couch, and urged her to lie down. Then she’d tucked a blanket around her and run down a list of people who were already working to get Caroline some belongings.
By the end of the following day, several men had carried in a full-sized bed, a couch, and a kitchen table set. Genetta and several other women unpacked and washed dishes from the church basement. They talked to Caroline carefully. She’d never been so acutely aware of people dancing around basic conversation. No one asked where she came from, why she was moving into a house alone with no belongings. More specifically, no one mentioned the urn Caroline couldn’t seem to put down.
All the while, Caroline smiled and nodded as if she’d actually heard the conversation being directed at her. She hadn’t. She was outside herself by then, watching from so far away that nothing felt real.
When the house emptied, Caroline still hadn’t fully come out of her fog, but she knew the kindness was all due to Simon. She had furniture, new clothes, and food in her fridge because Simon had reached out to his old neighbor, asking her to step in where he couldn’t. He’d taken care of Caroline like he’d promised. She wouldn’t have survived this if he hadn’t helped her. She owed him. She owed him everything. She didn’t know if she could ever repay him, but she did know she wouldn’t have found a way to carry on if he hadn’t intervened.
She turned her attention to the phone Genetta had brought over, wanting to call and thank Simon, but she stopped before grabbing the receiver. If she called him, she’d break down. She’d broken down so many times in the last forty-eight hours. She was free from John. Free from his drinking and the mind games that had kept her off-balance for so long.
But look what it had taken. Look at the price she’d paid.
Shame washed over Caroline, filling every part of her. She’d failed as a mother. She’d failed as a wife. She’d failed as a lover.
Everything she touched, everyone she touched, had paid for her shortcomings.
She owed Simon for helping her, but calling him now would just be extending the pain she’d already caused. He’d feel obligated to continue helping her, to continue checking on her. He’d feel obligated to save her, but he couldn’t. Nobody could.
The best way to pay Simon back for his kindness was to leave him alone and let him get on with his life without her.
Carol listened to Simon talk about his day as she walked upstairs to Alyssa’s guest room. He’d subm
itted his letter of retirement two days after Christmas and promptly put in vacation time to go to Missouri.
“I woke up to a beautiful sunrise over the mountains,” he said as she closed the bedroom door for some privacy. “Then I hiked for about an hour before I even had coffee.”
“Oh, that’s brave,” Carol teased.
“Well, I lose all my inhibitions when I’m here.”
Carol laughed as she sat on the bed. “Good to know.”
“Why’s that? Are you finally going to give in and visit me?”
“Doesn’t sound like I can handle this wilder side of you.”
Simon chuckled. “I’ll rein it in for you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Just so you know,” he said, “if you happened to show up before the tenth of January, the guest room would be ready for you.”
Carol smiled as she leaned against the headboard. “No pressure, though.”
“Absolutely none. Even when I send you pictures of the amazing view from my deck, there’s still no pressure.”
With a twinge of jealousy in her gut, she recalled the photos he’d shown her when they’d had dinner in St. Louis. “I’m not feeling pressured at all.”
“I want you to know that you’re welcome. You don’t even have to ask first.”
“I do know. Thank you.”
“One of these days, you’ll take me up on it.”
“One of these days,” she agreed.
The silence on the other end of the line said so much. She’d disappointed him. All her life, Carol had bent herself into pretzels trying to never disappoint anyone. She’d tried. Rarely succeeded, but she did try. Familiar dread formed a hot ball in her stomach as she waited for the inevitable fallout. “I know you want me to—”
“Caroline,” he stated, “what I want is irrelevant. You need to make these decisions for yourself.”
“You’re probably the only person who feels that way. Everyone wants me to do what makes them feel better.”
“I want you to be happy. That’s what I want.”
“I wish I knew how,” she said after a few seconds. “I promised John I wouldn’t continue sitting in my office pissing my life away by living the same day over and over. I was in a rut when he found me, and I promised him I would travel because that was what he wanted.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
“At the time, that seemed like the answer,” she said. “I would have done exactly what he said. I would have gone back to Houston after he died, gone back to work, and lived my life stuck on repeat. Being on the road was supposed to keep me moving forward…somehow.” She frowned when she realized how lame her explanation was. No wonder everyone was worried about her. “Now I’m staring this thing down and I’m feeling a little lost, to be honest. I’ve sold my house, I’ve given up my career, and now, I’m… Now I’m preparing to slay my demons, and I don’t even have a place to call home. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. That’s taking its toll.”
“Because this didn’t suit you. This was a lifestyle that suited John. John was the one who was carefree and reckless, Caroline. You were the grounded one. You’re no longer grounded. You’re no longer living your life the way you feel comfortable.”
“That was kind of the point,” she said.
“I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you.”
Carol scoffed. “I hope to hell not. We don’t have that kind of time.”
“I want to help you make sense of things.”
Dropping her head back against the headboard, she considered his comment for a few seconds. “You always did. You always tried to get me to see the bigger picture. I was never good at that.”
“This isn’t some great mystery that can’t be solved. Your nature is to be logical. Sensible. Centered. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Personally, I find those attributes to be very attractive.”
“Oh, I’m glad someone does.”
Simon ignored her sarcastic retort and continued. “The problem is that sometimes, you cling to them a little too hard.”
“Wait, are you saying my best attributes are also my biggest flaws?”
“The other problem is your mouth. You never stop running it.”
Carol rolled her head back as she laughed. “You’re not the first person who’s said that to me.”
“I’m shocked. Really.” Though his words were serious, she could hear the teasing in his voice.
“You should hear what people say about my overthinking.”
“I can’t imagine,” Simon stated.
As the lighter moment faded, Carol exhaled loudly. “I’ve never been good at finding my way on my own.”
“Nobody is,” Simon softly said. “We all count on friends and family to talk with and hash things out. I think you’re trying too hard.”
“Me? Try too hard?”
“What does Alyssa say?”
Carol debated if she wanted to share that with him. In the spirit of being more honest with herself and those around her, she closed her eyes before admitting, “She says I should be in Missouri with you.”
“I like her. I like her a lot.”
Smiling, Carol shook her head. “I’m trying really hard to do right by you this time. However, I’m starting to think you’re one of those guys who likes being abused.”
“That all depends on who is doing the abusing.”
“Oh my God,” she moaned but then laughed. “I want to get my head on straight before…”
“Before?” he asked when she didn’t finish.
She pressed her lips together as she again debated how much to open herself up. “What are we doing, Simon? What’s happening here?”
“What do you think?”
“No,” Carol said. “I asked you. We touched on this on Christmas. You were sad, and I’d been drinking. So, I…I need some clarity. What do you want from this? What do you want from me?”
Again, he was quiet. “This feels like a trap.”
She quirked a brow. “How so?”
“You’ve told me more than once you’re not ready for more. If I tell you I am, you could use that as a reason to run from me.”
Carol swallowed hard. “I guess I could. Or I could use it as a reason to get my shit together so I can feel like I have something to offer someone.”
“You have so much to offer someone,” he said.
A strange warmth started in her belly and swirled up around her heart. “I had an amazing life with Tobias.”
“I know you did.”
“I’m scared to let him go. I’m scared that…” She laughed wryly. “I don’t even know what I’m scared of. I’m just scared.”
“You’ve been through a lot of changes in the last two years. And you’re staring down a lot more. That’s scary.”
“Sometimes I wish you’d tell me to snap out of it.”
He chuckled. “Would that help? Really? Has that ever helped anyone?”
“Probably not.” She grabbed the rose quartz worry stone off the nightstand and ran her thumb over the engraving. No Regrets. “You know, we used to spend so much time talking about what could be. We’re older now. We have to be more realistic about life. I carry a lot of baggage. More than most. I’m trying to unload some of that, but this isn’t going to be easy. I have to get a sense of self before I can be anything to anyone again.”
“That’s exactly why I’m hesitant to answer your question. You’ll overthink it. You’ll pick my words apart. You’ll find a thousand hidden meanings that aren’t really there.”
She scoffed. “Well, so you know, I’ve already picked apart everything you could possibly say to me a thousand times. Might as well ease some of my stress and give me one thing to obsess about instead of a million.”
He exhaled audibly. “Okay. Here it is. My girls are both in college now. Pretty soon, I’ll be going to graduations and then weddings. Someday, in the not too distant future, I expect to be holding my first grandchild. I would rea
lly like someone to share those things with,” Simon said. “More than that, Caroline, I’d like that person to be you.”
Carol’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. She rarely let herself think about how she’d never be a grandmother, but she was aware. As her circle of friends aged and became grandparents, Carol knew she’d never hold that title. She’d accepted that long ago, but there was a shadow that hung over her. There was a lingering reminder that she didn’t have the children or the family she’d always wanted.
She couldn’t find the right words to respond. Pressing her hand to mouth, she tried to stop a choked sob from leaving her.
Simon continued, filling the silence between them. “I’d like us to take family vacations to places we’d hate if not for our grandkids having so much fun. When we’re not traveling with our family, I’d like us to go hiking in the woods and read by the fire and have all those things we used to talk about. That’s what I want. What do you think?” he asked. “Is that too much?”
She opened her mouth, but she’d lost her words. Once again, Simon Miller was offering her the life she’d always dreamed of having. She’d turned her back on him last time because she hadn’t wanted to hurt Katie. She had no reason now, other than the fear that made her incapable of answering him.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned stuffy graduations, stressful weddings, and screaming grandkids,” he said, as if he were trying to lighten the mood.
“Actually,” she managed around the lump that had formed in her chest, “that sounds really nice.”
“Which part?”
“All of it,” she said. “All of it sounds amazing. I’m terrified I’m going to hurt you, Simon.” She bit her lip before asking, “You know I’m a disaster, right? I’m a complete and utter disaster.”
“Yes,” he said flatly, “but I’d really like you to be my disaster. When you’re ready.”
Carol swallowed hard and closed her eyes. As soon as she did, images of the life he wanted to share filled her mind. “Soon,” she whispered. “I’ll be ready soon.”
