Lena took her eyes off the road long enough to look at Caroline. She didn’t need to point out that the guy had clearly never loved Caroline, never cared about her. Or that she’d been nothing more than another groupie. Another one-night stand on his nationwide tour. Lena didn’t need to voice a word of it.
Her eyes said it all.
Over the past few months Lena had asked questions about how much time Caroline was spending at home. She even offered to find a counselor to help make things right between Caroline and Alan. But Caroline avoided Lena’s attempts and denied the affair until a few days ago. Now they rode in a silence heavy with sadness.
Caroline stared out the window at the night sky. When had the trouble started? How had her life gotten so out of control? When she sorted through the places where she’d gone wrong, one event came to mind. The concert two years ago last January, the day Peyton Anders came to town for his Whatever You’re Feeling tour. All of Savannah knew about the show. Peyton was that big. That year he was twenty-six. He had a ruggedly handsome face and a football player’s build. By then he’d been the Country Music Conference’s best male vocalist for three years running, and that spring he had just added Entertainer of the Year to his credits.
“You thinking about it?” Lena’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
Caroline turned to her friend. “Trying.”
“That’s a start.”
“Me and Alan . . . it’s been bad for so long, Lena.” Caroline’s voice cracked, the hurt and heartache choking her. “He . . . doesn’t want me.”
“Do I look like a stranger, Carrie Tucker?” That’s what Lena had always called her. Carrie. “I was there.” She gave her a sidelong glance, then looked back at the dark road ahead. “Remember?” She paused again, but her intensity remained. “Keep thinking, Carrie. Go all the way back and figure out the knot. So you can stand a chance at unraveling it.”
“Yes.” Caroline turned away. Fixing the mess wasn’t an option, but she couldn’t say that. Not to Lena. Her friend believed in staying married. Period. Even now, when Caroline’s marriage to Alan was long dead.
She stared once more at the night sky. The concert that January had sold out, but Stu knew the concert promoter. The guy gave him a couple of front-row seats. Lena’s husband didn’t care for country music, so Lena had asked Caroline.
The invitation had been the highlight of Caroline’s entire year.
Without warning, an image flashed into her mind. Her and Alan, walking down the aisle of a country church, in love and absolutely sure about forever. She was pretty and young back then, twenty years old with long blond hair and innocent eyes. In the early days, every moment with Alan had been marked with a hope deeper than the ocean.
The memory disappeared. There was no way to measure the distance between then and now. Who she’d been and who she’d become. Caroline felt tears sting at her eyes. Who they had both become.
She turned to Lena. “Alan and me. The mess we’re in.” She dabbed her fingers at the corners of her eyes. “It’s my fault, too. I’m not making excuses.”
“I hope not.” Lena kept her gaze straight ahead. “Married to one guy, and you turn up pregnant by someone else?” She raised one eyebrow. “Not a lot of room in the car for excuses.” She paused for a long while. Then she gave Caroline’s hand a tender squeeze. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like that.”
“I know.”
“It’s bad right now.” Lena tightened her hold on the steering wheel. She made a left turn into her neighborhood. “God loves you, Carrie. He wants you and Alan to figure it out.”
Caroline nodded. It wasn’t the first time Lena had said it. Lena was a Christian. The real kind. She never preached, but she wasn’t afraid to call Caroline out on something. She had before. She loved Caroline that much.
They reached Lena’s house, and as they got out of the car, a rush of guilt clawed at Caroline’s determination. “I don’t think we can work this out. It’s over. It’s been over for years, Lena.” She paused for a quick breath. “Maybe I should go to a hotel.”
Lena looked at her. “You about finished?”
Caroline hesitated. “I don’t know what to do—”
“Carrie Tucker.” Lena walked around the front bumper and put her hands on Caroline’s shoulders. “Get your suitcase.” She gave a single nod, then turned and headed for the front door. She didn’t look back. “The guest room’s made up.”
The discussion was over. Caroline pulled her suitcase from the back of Lena’s Honda and shut the trunk. Five minutes later, she was sitting on the edge of the Lindseys’ guest bed. She was the most horrible wife and mother ever. The absolute worst. What would Ellie think? She would get home from Nolan’s house and find her mother gone. Pregnant with someone else’s baby. The thought made Caroline sick to her stomach.
Suddenly, she remembered something.
Her heart beat faster as she pulled her purse close and dug around the bottom, past the Walmart and Target receipts and gum wrappers until she found what she was looking for. A bottle of Vicodin. Twelve pills, at least. Earlier today a recovered patient had asked her to discard them. Instead, Caroline had slipped them into her purse.
In case she needed them to deal with her own pain.
But the pills could do more than that. Much more. They felt heavy in her hand. She took off the lid and brought them close to her face. Smelled the strength of them. Their bitterness. It wouldn’t take twelve pills. She could chew a couple of them, and that would be that. No husband who didn’t love her. No daughter ashamed of her. No baby about to be born unaware into an ugly world.
The sound of footsteps made her lower the bottle. She slipped the lid back on and dropped it into her purse. Her hands shook, and she couldn’t draw a full breath. What was she thinking? How could she even consider killing herself?
“Hey, there.” Lena stuck her head into the room. “Get settled. Stu and I will be in the kitchen.” Her eyes looked softer than they had before. “Whenever you’re ready to talk.”
She left without waiting for Caroline’s response. It wasn’t whether Caroline wanted to talk but when. As long as she stayed here, Lena and Stu would do everything in their power to see Caroline and Alan reconciled. It was how they were wired. Caroline stood and dropped her purse in the far corner of the room, as far away as possible. She still loved Alan. The old Alan. She always would. If only they could find their way back.
Pray, Caroline. You have to pray. As soon as the thought hit her, she refuted it. She had prayed every step of the journey with Alan. Where had it gotten her? A random reel of moments played in her mind, times when she had asked for God’s help, His wisdom and understanding. His comfort. But always her marriage had grown worse.
She closed her eyes and could see him again. Alan Tucker, the love of her life. Coming home from Parris Island an hour away, walking through the front door of their apartment off Forsyth Park in his marine uniform, grinning at her. “It happened! I’m a drill instructor! I start Monday.”
Caroline’s mind had raced, wondering what that meant for her, for them. “Will the hours . . . be longer?”
Alan had hesitated, his expression clouded with sudden confusion. “I’m a marine, Caroline. If it means more hours, then I put in more hours.”
For the first of a thousand times it occurred to Caroline that she would never be most important in Alan Tucker’s life. His extra workload kept him on base Monday through Friday and home only on the weekends. Somehow, though, his absence caused him to doubt her. He would come home on Friday and ask where she’d been, what she’d been doing. If her answer took too long, his tone would grow impatient. “It’s not that hard, Caroline. Where have you been?”
He really meant what men had she been seeing. There never were any other men back then, but Alan would remind her almost every weekend that it was wrong for her to wear tank tops or short shorts, or to look too long at a guy bagging her groceries or taking her money at the car wash. “It’s a s
in to make a man stumble, Caroline.” He would smile at her as if this were a perfectly normal conversation between a husband and wife. “I’m glad you understand.”
Caroline began to wonder about the man coming home every weekend, and what he had done with the guy she loved. Only when they were in bed did she see glimpses of that Alan. His patience and tender touch made her feel crazy for doubting him.
The parade of memories continued. Months after Alan’s promotion, Caroline was bringing Ellie home from the hospital, and Alan was warning her that she’d have to do a lot of the work on her own. He was sorry. He wanted another promotion at Parris Island.
Wanted it at all costs.
The loneliness of missing Alan had been soothed overnight by the presence of her little daughter. As Ellie grew older, the two of them walked to the park every afternoon. Caroline would blow bubbles from a plastic wand into the wind while Ellie chased them, her little-girl laughter filling the humid Georgia air. They were together every waking hour. Caroline would read to Ellie each night, Dr. Seuss and then Junie B. Jones, until they both knew the stories by heart. Alan liked to remind them that they should be reading more C. S. Lewis and fewer frivolous books.
She could hear Ellie’s long-ago voice: “Daddy, we do read those. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is my favorite.” She shot a twinkle-eyed look at Caroline. “But Junie B. Jones makes us laugh, right, Mommy?”
Five years of happy moments with Ellie came in a rush, all of them marked by peanut butter sandwiches and afternoon naps and the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. Disney movies and practicing letters and coloring together, every day as wonderful as the last. But then Ellie went to kindergarten.
At first Caroline had only the lonely mornings to remind her that Ellie was getting older. But a year later, Ellie was in school full-time. The first day of class, Caroline returned home alone, stared in the mirror, and, through teary eyes, asked herself one question: “What are you going to do now?”
Alan didn’t take calls at work, and though he checked in every night, their conversations were matter-of-fact. Which bills had come, what accounts were paid, how was Ellie, what was she learning in school. Only the weekends were marked by an intimacy and joy between Caroline and Alan. They would take quiet walks along the river and sip exotic coffees at a café downtown. She was in love with Alan, even if they only had the weekends. But that didn’t make her weekdays less lonely.
The single ray of light, the one that gave her a reason to get up on Monday mornings, was the time she still had with Ellie. Caroline volunteered at her daughter’s school, helping out on craft days and field trips, and in the afternoons Ellie took dance and gymnastics lessons at the YMCA. The two grew closer with every passing year. She could hear Ellie’s voice again, older this time. “You’re my best friend, Mom . . . you and Nolan. No one gets me like you two.”
But somewhere between the elementary grades and the start of Ellie’s middle school years, the shared times between them became less frequent, and eventually, they happened only once in a while. The turning point came when Caroline took a job at Dr. Kemp’s office, the year she and Alan realized they’d fallen into debt. Whether it was Caroline’s time working away from home or Ellie’s ability to sense the tension between her parents, the girl began spending most of her free time at Nolan’s house.
And just like that, the parade of memories and moments came to a grinding halt.
No wonder Caroline had jumped at the chance to see Peyton Anders with Lena that January. The sameness of her life, the lack of interaction and laughter with either Alan or Ellie, had been driving her insane. A concert would give her a night to feel alive again.
That—and only that—was all Caroline Tucker ever expected.
She was a good girl from a good home. She went to church every Sunday with Alan and Ellie, even during the worst weeks. Never in all her life could she have imagined what was about to happen.
The thing that would change her life forever.
Chapter Three
Alan Tucker thought about getting in his car and finding Ellie, bringing her back from the place where she hung out with Nolan Cook. The park near the boy’s house. But if he did that, she would know her life was about to change. In the end, that was why he didn’t go. Ellie deserved one last night before the start of the rest of her life.
The one in a new location. Without her mother.
Tonight’s news had changed everything. He would not raise Ellie in a town where people were forever talking about her mother, about her terrible affair and who she’d had it with. Tonight Alan finally had answers to the questions that had plagued him for so long. He still struggled to believe the reality. Peyton Anders.
Alan sighed, and the sound rattled through his aching chest. Of all people, Caroline had been cheating with a famous country singer. Worse, they’d been going behind his back for two years. He lay on top of the covers and stared through the darkness at the patchy bedroom ceiling. He wasn’t sure which was worse—the fact that Caroline had cheated on him or the truth that she’d given her heart to the guy two years ago. Two years. He exhaled and rolled onto his side. He wanted only the best for his family. In all the years of spending weekdays at the base, he had never so much as taken a sip of alcohol. When the guys went out drinking, Alan stayed in his room and read his Bible or watched reruns of Gilligan’s Island and I Love Lucy.
He had asked Caroline more than once who she was spending time with, but he never really expected this. That the only woman he’d ever loved would find someone else. Or that she would lie to him. Betray him so completely. His stomach churned, and he wondered whether he would ever feel good again. True, he and Caroline hadn’t slept together in months, but before their intimacy waned, they’d had their good times.
Now, now he hated remembering even one of those moments. She would sleep with him at night and then flirt with Peyton the next morning from work. He never should have fallen in love with someone as beautiful as Caroline. Especially with his career as a marine. A few of his friends had warned him sixteen years ago, when he announced he was marrying her. Even his mother had been worried. “She’s very pretty.” She looked doubtful. “Does she understand you’ll be gone a lot? Women like her . . . well, some of them can be self-absorbed.”
Alan clenched his jaw. He had been angry at his mother for her comment back then. And now . . . He couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t bring himself to rehash in his mind the truth about his wife. But this much was certain: Caroline would regret what she’d done to him. She would regret it as long as she lived. He already had a plan. Weeks ago his commander had told him about a promotion—one that would take him to San Diego’s Camp Pendleton Marine Base. He would continue his work as a drill instructor, but for larger classes. If things went well, he would wind up working at the adjacent military brig, the one run by the navy.
The San Diego drill instructor position was open immediately. Until tonight, he hadn’t really thought he’d do it. Ellie was a freshman at Savannah High, and Caroline had her job at Dr. Kemp’s office. Life had a certain rhythm to it.
But all that had changed tonight.
Five minutes after Caroline pulled away, he called his commander. “How soon can I start in San Diego?”
“Next week.” The man didn’t hesitate. “Tell me when, and I’ll set it up. They have temporary housing on base until you find something.”
Alan did the calculations. He and Ellie could pack tomorrow and leave Sunday morning. If they put in long hours on the road, they could reach California in three days. “I could report Wednesday. Be ready to work that Monday.”
“Done.” The man sounded surprised. “They’ll be glad. Pendleton’s hurting for instructors.” He hesitated a couple seconds. “You’re the best, Tucker. Glad you’re moving up, but I hate losing you.”
If only his wife felt that way.
Yes, she would be sorry. He would move with Ellie and raise her by himself. Let her try to su
e him or fight for custody. She wouldn’t dare, not with the sordid details of her last few years. No, she wouldn’t fight him. If she could do this to him and Ellie, then she didn’t care, anyway. He wouldn’t subject their daughter to a life of shame. Caroline didn’t want to be a mother, not if she could do this.
His heart felt heavy in his chest. He still had to tell Ellie. She might be mad at first, but in time she would understand. She would miss Caroline, of course. But when she got old enough, he’d tell her the truth. How her mom had at one time been a wonderful person, kind and caring, the love of his life. But eventually she had chosen another man over being a wife to him or a mother to Ellie. Those future conversations would be heartbreaking, but Alan could see no other way. Ellie would have to understand. The only other person she wouldn’t want to leave was Nolan. Her best friend. But eventually she would get over him, too.
San Diego would have a whole new world of friends for her.
Alan felt his determination harden like fresh cement on a summer day. Whatever Ellie thought and however upset she might be, they were leaving Savannah. There was no other way. He heard the sound of her bicycle in the driveway, and he looked at the clock. It wasn’t quite eleven, Ellie’s curfew. He listened as the front door opened and closed again. For a single instant he started to get up. Better to tell her now so she would have the right mind-set. More time to prepare.
But he stopped himself.
By now she would’ve forgotten her parents’ fight. She’d probably had a great night with Nolan, talking under the trees and listening to music and being a kid. Ellie was entitled to a good night’s sleep, entitled to sweet dreams. The news that her mother was pregnant with another man’s child, that Ellie was moving to San Diego with her dad, would grow her up in a hurry. Alan ached for her. He would tell her tomorrow. He wouldn’t interrupt the sanctity of the moment.
Her final night of childhood.
The conversation with Lena and Stu was brief. They wanted Caroline to call a counselor in the morning. Seek intervention immediately so that somehow, by some miracle, her marriage could be saved. Caroline listened and nodded. But the talk was pointless. There was no way back. Alan Tucker would never love her again.
The Chance: A Novel Page 3
