Standing by the casket with the other ladies of the Parker family, I held the whistle from my wedding night in my warm palm, remembering the few moments Grandma Ivy and I had spent together. A smile crossed my lips as I thought about her face when Cole carried me away from my wedding, telling me I was going to need the whistle that night.
Silently, I passed it into Rachel’s hand, pressing the cold metal against her skin. She glanced down and grinned, no doubt reliving her own private memory. With a sad smile at me, she placed it in her mom’s hand. Liz let out a slight laugh, holding it up to her mother, Grandma Rose.
“Oh, what to do with this?” Grandma Rose chuckled, looking at each of us one by one. “Maybe we should give it back to her, ladies. She might need it when she’s reunited with Dad.”
It was the first time I had really laughed in a week, and it felt wonderful.
-§-
“There you are,” I said to Cole as I walked into the bedroom, where he stood at the side of the bed with his back to me. “I lost sight of you at your parents’ house, but I never would have thought you’d go home without me.” Crossing over to him, I placed my hand gently against his back and felt him tense beneath my fingers. Shifting to the side, he moved just enough that I saw what rested on the bed in front of him, and icy terror gripped my heart.
“My friend Nate in Nashville bought this old house that needs some remodeling, and he asked if I would help,” he stated without emotion. “It will be a good thing for me, because I can get with some of my baseball contacts there. It’s perfect timing.” He reached his hand into his tote bag and shoved the contents down further, then brought the zipper across like a giant exclamation point to his words.
“Cole, please…”
“I told Nate to let me look at that house before he bought it, but he thought he knew what he was doing,” he continued, stepping over to the closet. “Now he’s got plumbing trouble and some of the electrical is out of date, and he’s in way over his head.” Emerging with a couple of shirts in his hands, he crossed back to the tote bag again, unzipping a side compartment and stuffing the shirts inside. My feet were entrenched in their spot, as though I had grown roots through the floor, and although my thoughts were rushing around in a crazy spin, I couldn’t choke one through my throat.
“I’ve got some guys in Nashville who are willing to help me improve my swing, too, so I’d be crazy not to take the opportunity.” Reaching into a drawer on his side of the bed, he retrieved a few pairs of socks and then stuffed them in the end of the tote bag, still refusing to look at me. Swiping his phone from the nightstand, he shoved it in his pocket and looped the handle of the tote bag over his shoulder, giving the room one last look.
He couldn’t exit that space without walking past me, and as he strolled nearer with his eyes looking at the ground, I moved directly in front of him, placing my hand on his chest. His gaze flew up to meet mine, and I tried to control the trembling of my fingers.
“I can’t do this, Camdyn,” he said, voice breaking. “I’ve tried, but I can’t do this.” His hand gently removed mine from his chest, and he continued past me into the hall. “I’ll keep in touch. Take care of Pop.”
Shock kept me where I stood in the bedroom, even as I heard his shoes tapping the hardwood on the stairs and heard the front door close with a snap. It didn’t even release me when I heard his truck roar to life, or when the sounds of his motor faded into the distance. Alone in that house, I finally managed to pull myself from where I stood, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders and sitting resolutely on the couch downstairs. Cole was my rock – my love and my protector. He couldn’t leave me. It simply wasn’t in his nature.
With an unshakable fear in my chest, I sat there in the dark, waiting for him to return.
Chapter Eighteen
A knock at the door startled me from a rather feverish nightmare, and I bolted upright, the blanket sliding down around my shoulders. Rubbing my neck, I realized I had fallen asleep sitting partially upright, and my body was paying the price. Squinting against the light coming through the window, I rose to my feet and padded over to the door.
My heart sunk when I realized the person on the other side of the knock was Rita. Pulling the door back, I felt a cool splash of air slap me in the face, and I shivered a bit in my gray lace dress.
“Rita? What are you doing here? What time is it?”
“It’s nearly noon,” she answered, stepping into the house. “I wanted to check on you. Jake said Cole didn’t come to work today, and he was concerned.”
What, are you and Jake suddenly best friends?
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “Really, you needn’t have bothered.”
“Isn’t that the dress you wore to the funeral yesterday?”
Glancing down, my eyes took in my rumpled dress, and my imagination told me my hair was probably wild and sticking up. As a bonus, I had worn makeup in my attempt to look more “land of the living,” and since I had no shortage of tears sitting on that couch in the middle of the night, my mascara was probably smeared across my face.
“Yeah, I haven’t changed yet.”
“You look like you didn’t sleep either.” With an unexpected outstretch of her arm, Rita had her hand wrapped around my shoulder in a split second, and the contact of another human being caused my breath to catch in my throat.
“Cole left me,” I whispered. “Please, Rita, don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell Jake.”
“What do you mean, he left you?” she asked, putting her other hand on my vacant shoulder and staring into my eyes. “He wouldn’t do that – that boy loves you.”
“I don’t know, but he did,” I stated, feeling myself teetering on the verge of hysteria. “He said he couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t blame him. This whole place reeks of death, Rita. I reek of death.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t I?” I blurted, sinking my hands into my hair and knotting it around my fists. “It’s consuming me, and I can’t brush it off.”
“You have to,” she told me, shaking me gently. “Don’t let the grief pull you under, sweetie. I know it’s tempting, but you have to hang on.”
Stepping over to the kitchen, she pulled the coffee pot off the counter and filled it with water, turning her back to me for the moment. Hastily brushing at my eyes, I looked toward the window and took a deep breath.
“Listen – I’m going to make a pot of coffee, and then fix you something to eat,” Rita began, glancing over at me from where she stood by the sink. “I want you to go upstairs, run yourself a hot bath, and try to remember how to breathe, okay? Don’t let your fear drag you down. Everything will be alright.”
Taken aback, I moved slowly toward the hallway, unable to take my eyes off Rita. She put the coffee pot back where it belonged and opened the refrigerator before I rounded the corner and headed up the stairs.
Alone in the bathroom, I turned on the hot water and watched as it cascaded into the tub. With a sudden jolt, my mind shot back to a week before, curled up on that floor…
Forcing my thoughts to tilt in another direction, I stuck my hand under the water to test the temperature and thought about my current circumstance. The tub was filling, so I grabbed my phone and inspected it to see if Cole had phoned while I was downstairs. There were three missed calls, but none from my husband. Without even thinking, I pushed the button by his name and listened as one ring after another sounded in my ear.
“Hey, it’s Cole, leave me a message.”
“Cole? Um, hi. I just… Are you okay? I mean, I wanted to make sure you got to Nashville alright. Whatever you’re doing, I hope it won’t take long. Just because I wish you were here, you know? That’s all. I love you. Bye.”
I allowed the phone to plop onto a folded towel on the floor, dropped my gray dress into a pile, and stepped in the water, letting myself sink into the warmth and willing my muscles to relax. My gaze drifted to my body partially distorted by the refraction of the water, and I rea
lized that I looked pretty much the way I had before the pregnancy. Outwardly, it was as though nothing had happened.
Sinking farther into the water, I let it rise over my head, finally poking out only my nose and mouth. Underneath the liquid my ears played tricks on me, as I heard little pings and ticks from the house settling. I imagined that I was alone on the earth, and there was no sound beyond the noise in that tub. For a split second, I felt peaceful.
A clanging noise broke into the near silence, though – the ringing of two pots colliding together, and the reality that Rita was in my kitchen came flooding back, making me pull my heavy wet curls out of the water. Grabbing a sugar scrub from the edge of the tub, I proceeded to rub every inch of my body, determined to remove whatever Cole had found so revolting the night before. By the time I was finished, my skin was tinged pink, and my hair was squeaky clean.
When I reached for my towel, I couldn’t help but notice that my phone was blinking. Drying myself off quickly, I checked the text and my heart bounced right up to my throat: Made it to Nashville. Lots of work to do. Talk to you later.
Disappointment rolled over me like a fog, threatening to overtake the entire room. Instead of allowing it to take hold and sitting on the floor to have a good cry, I marched into the bedroom and grabbed some underwear, towel-drying my hair and putting it in a ponytail. Afterwards, I tugged on some pajama bottoms and reached for a t-shirt. As I was about to push it over my head, I recognized the black Poison shirt with a start and gently tucked it back where I had found it, instead pulling out a blue v-neck tee that held no sentimental meaning whatsoever.
“Something smells wonderful,” I said to Rita as I rounded the corner into the kitchen, where she stood next to a beautiful plate of professional-looking food.
“Ricotta and strawberry crepes,” she told me, holding out a plate. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a couple ingredients with me.”
Accepting the food she offered, I shook my head. “No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” I carried the plate to the table and sat down, and Rita promptly brought me a mug of coffee, which she said was flavored with Kahlua and Irish cream. “Aren’t you going to have some?” I asked.
“Maybe when you’re finished,” she answered quietly. “I made them for you, after all.”
“I’ll never eat it all. Please, take the other plate and sit with me.”
Shrugging, she retrieved the other plate and sat across from me, glancing up nervously.
“So, you and Jake are pretty good friends, I guess?”
“Jake?” she clarified, shock registering on her features. “He comes in the café a lot, and he thinks Cole is just about the greatest guy in the world.” That last bit about Cole brought a smile to my lips, and I longed to see his expression at those words.
“Cole is the greatest guy in the world,” I agreed quietly.
“And he’s smart enough to know what he has,” Rita stated simply. “He’ll be back, Camdyn.”
-§-
The subsequent evening found me alone, with no contact whatsoever from my husband. When he texted that he would talk to me later, he obviously didn’t mean later that day. As I tucked myself into our bed that night, I wondered exactly when later would arrive. Looking at our wedding picture on my nightstand, I sighed at Cole’s perfect smile.
“I love you, wherever you are.”
My sleep hadn’t been restful, and when I rose the next morning, I knew I probably looked tired. Rosalie brought me lunch, and she didn’t ask me any questions, which I thought strange. Either Rita had sworn her to silence on the fact that Cole was gone, or she had told her not to ask me anything. It didn’t matter, because I was grateful that she didn’t verbally wonder about our situation.
I spent the day working on my newest book about Etta, trying to go through some rewrites and getting it ready to send to my editor. It felt strange to be so alone after the past few months, as though I had meandered back in time and was in my apartment in Richmond, an incognito stranger fading in and out of peoples’ lives and leaving them unchanged.
I was just settling into my lonely bed for another night when the phone buzzed on my nightstand, and I grabbed it quickly, so relieved to see Cole’s name across my screen.
“Hi,” I said quietly.
“I was afraid you’d be worried about me.”
“No, but I miss you.” That admission was met with silence, and I clutched the bed sheets in my fist, wishing things would go back to the way they were.
“Nate’s house is worse than I thought.”
Which means you’re not coming back.
“Well,” I stalled, wishing I could be honest and beg him to come home, “I’m sure you’ll do a great job fixing whatever it is.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He cleared his throat, and then I heard him sigh. “Camdyn…” Afraid to breathe, I didn’t say a word. “Camdyn, I’m sorry.”
I said the stupidest thing I could have possibly said: “It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay. It was far from okay.
“Well, I better go. Big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, alright.”
With that, he was gone. Sinking into my pillow, I stretched my fingers out to the place where his head usually rested, wondering if I would ever stare into his face as I fell asleep again.
Unable to shut off my brain long enough to close my eyes, I stared at the ceiling and listened as an animal outside howled in the distance. Pop began barking, and believing it was at that lone howler in the distance, I turned over and attempted to block out the noise. A pounding sound on the door removed that option, however, and I sat up with a fresh feeling of fear, not knowing who would be at my home at such a late hour.
Creeping down the stairs, I stopped in the hall to pull one of Cole’s baseball bats from its hiding place, holding it up against my shoulder. The pounding began at the door again, and as I crossed the living room, I tried to peek out the window, but only saw black nothingness.
“Camdyn!” I heard a familiar voice. Flinging the door open, I found Jake looking slightly stunned, a toddler with shoulder-length brown hair resting on his hip.
“Jake?! What are you doing?”
He laughed slightly, taking in the sight of me with the bat. “Were you on attack mode?”
“Of course. What do you expect when you show up here in the dark, knowing I’m alone?”
“You’re alone?”
The shame of Jake fully knowing the truth washed over me, and I dropped the bat to my side.
“What’s going on, Jake?” He glanced behind him at his truck, which held a dark figure inside. Instinctively, I gripped the bat a little tighter.
“My dad had an accident,” he began, shifting the little girl against him. “I’m pretty sure his leg is broken, and I need to get him to the hospital. Bailey’s mom had a job interview this weekend, and she’s out of town. I don’t know what to do – I have nowhere to take her.”
“Jake,” I protested weakly. With a grimace, he glanced at the truck again.
“You’re the only person I can trust, Camdyn.” A shudder crept up my spine, and unable to determine whether it was the night air or a foreboding feeling, I reached out my arms. “Bailey, this is Camdyn. She’s my very good friend. She’s going to take perfect care of you until I can get back, okay?”
Bailey said nothing, but she allowed me to take her into my arms, and I held her on my hip just as Jake had done.
“Will you be gone long?” The feel of Bailey’s soft skin against my hand was making me uncomfortable, but it was too late to turn back.
“I hope not,” Jake said. “Thank you, Camdyn. I owe you.”
Remaining in the doorway with Bailey against my side as we watched Jake’s truck back up the driveway, I silently wondered which one of us ladies was more frightened at the moment.
Closing the door behind us, I looked down at Bailey’s face as she studied the room.
“You must be tired,” I began, placing her on the ground. “Would you like to lo
ok at the place to sleep?”
“K,” she said disinterestedly. I reached for her hand, but she held both of her arms in the air, standing there waiting.
“So you’re a ‘carry you around’ kind of girl, are you? Come here, sweetheart.” Lifting her to my hip again, I locked the front door and we headed toward the stairs.
My heart beat a little harder as I carried her upward, because I had no idea what to do with her. Placing her in the crib seemed like the reasonable choice, but she would be alone and scared, not to mention the fact that the room had no decorations at all. Stepping through the doorway, I turned on the light overhead and motioned to the space that was obviously destined for a baby.
“There’s a perfect little bed here,” I started, the words barely squeaking out. Her arms clung tighter to my neck, and I sat in the rocking chair as I held her against me. “Do you like songs when you go to sleep? I really like music. My grandma used to sing to me sometimes, even when I was much older than you.” She made no comment as she rested her body against me, and I tried to rethink my strategy. “I had a bed with white posts, a blue comforter with little pink flowers all over it, and a big, squishy white pillow that my head would sink into like a giant marshmallow. Oh, and I had this stuffed monkey who was the fattest monkey I’ve ever seen, I think. His name was Mr. Chippers, and he really liked to sing. So, my grandma would come in to tuck me in, and Mr. Chippers would want to sing to me. Grandma would hold him in her lap, and Mr. Chippers would sing me the most ridiculous songs. Sometimes he sang Elvis songs, or Beatles songs, but he liked Peter, Paul and Mary the most. He was funny, Mr. Chippers. Do you have something like that?”
I thought for a second she might be asleep, before I heard her quiet reply: “Mommy.”
Warmth spread into my skin for a split second and then retreated like a wave pulling away from the shore, leaving me with a cold, uncomfortable feeling. “Mommy” – the one thing I couldn’t relate to and couldn’t be. Fighting the tears that sprung to my eyes, I stood and attempted to settle her into the crib, but she fought me and rose again, lifting her tiny arms toward me.
For No Reason (The Camdyn Series Book 4) Page 23
