A Life Without Flowers (A Life Without Water Book 2)

by Marci Bolden

  Copyright © 2020 by Marci Bolden

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Okay Creations

  ebook layout by Lori Colbeck

  eISBN-13: 978-1-950348-42-8

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Also by Marci Bolden

  About the Author

  For Ty.

  You are loved forever and always.

  One

  Though the late August sun warmed Carol Denman’s shoulders as she strolled down a well-kept sidewalk, a chill settled in her gut. She’d taken her time hooking up her RV in a nearby campground before walking the short distance to the townhome her mom and aunt had bought after moving to Florida. The closer she got to the picture-perfect retirement community, the more disconsolate she felt.

  Visiting her mother was never high on her list of things to do. The two of them butted heads incessantly. No issue was too insignificant. They could, and usually did, fight over anything. However, Carol’s outlook on life had changed recently, and she’d made this trip to the suburbs of Orlando hoping they could find common ground. If she was ever going to have a relationship with the woman who had brought her into the world, Carol was going to have to make the effort. Judith never would.

  As Carol approached the porch to a smoky-blue townhome, her aunt yanked the door open and gasped as if she wasn’t expecting company, even though Carol had texted when she’d left the RV park. Ellen spread her arms wide, causing her teal and pink kaftan to flow like a kite flying above the beach. Carol had bought the dress for her aunt in Honolulu. Carol and her husband Tobias had vacationed in Hawaii a few summers before his death. Though they hadn’t set foot on a beach due to Carol’s aversion to water, they’d had an amazing time hiking the volcanoes and rain forest in between visiting museums.

  Feeling happiness for the first time since arriving in Florida, Carol stepped into one of her favorite hugs ever. Aunt Ellen had always made Carol feel as if there was a special connection between them. Her aunt had been a ray of sunshine Carol would have spent her life basking in if Ellen hadn’t lived so far away.

  “How’s my girl?” Ellen asked, squeezing her niece.

  “I’m tired from packing up the house, but I’ll survive. How are you?” Carol leaned back and her heart grew heavy.

  The last time she’d seen her aunt and mom was at Tobias’s funeral almost a year ago. The energy that had always radiated from Ellen seemed dimmer now. Age was taking a toll on her, as it was Carol’s mother, reaffirming how necessary this trip was.

  Ellen pressed her fingertips under Carol’s chin as she looked her over. “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you sleeping?”

  “As much as I can.” Carol stepped into the cool air of the open living area. The chill she’d felt earlier rolled through her again, but not because of the change in temperature. Being in the same house as her mother set her on edge. Knowing she’d come to confront a lifetime of emotional neglect made her blood run cold.

  A painting on the wall caught Carol’s eye, and a smile lit her face. The bright colors created an abstract image of mountains made of checkerboards and a waterfall filling a teapot. The last time she’d been in this house, her mother’s bland taste had dominated. She was glad to see her aunt making room for her more eccentric style. “That’s a great piece. When did you paint it?”

  Ellen moved between Carol and the art. “Don’t change the subject.”

  “What subject?”

  “You. You’re the subject. I was surprised when Judith said you were coming to visit, but now I have to wonder if there’s more to it than you passing through. Are you okay?”

  Carol nodded to reassure her aunt. “I’ve spent the last few weeks getting ready to live on the road. Like I said, I’m a little tired, but I’ll catch up on sleep.”

  The way Ellen pursed her lips and cocked one brow suggested she hadn’t believed Carol’s excuse. Ellen always could see through her. “There’s more.”

  There was more. Carol hadn’t slept for days knowing she was on her way to visit her mom. She hoped to find a way to mend their relationship, though she wasn’t foolish enough to think doing so would be easy. She was dreading the days ahead. “Where’s Mom?”

  “It’s Sunday. Where do you think she is?”

  Every Sunday for as long as Carol could remember, Judith made enough chicken and dumpling soup for Carol’s father to eat leftovers for the week. That habit had remained, even though her dad had been gone almost four years. Carol followed the familiar scents to the kitchen, where she found her mom standing over a big silver pot, staring intently. Unlike the living area, Ellen’s spunk hadn’t migrated to the kitchen.

  This was her mother’s domain, and the neutral colors and clean, bare counters proved as much. Ellen tended to leave a mess in her wake, whereas Judith cleaned while she went. Despite making a homemade meal, Judith had left not even a trace of flour on the counter. The room was pristine. Sterile.

  She hated to admit she’d kept her home closer to Judith’s style than Ellen’s. Carol had inherited her mother’s need for cleanliness and order. She’d always hated that about herself but had never been able to change. Maybe now that her living quarters were barely bigger than a van, she could finally learn to live with signs of disorder. She doubted that, though.

  “Hey, Mom,” Carol said with a forced smile and more excitement than she felt.

  Judith lifted her face and smiled, too, but the corners of her mouth wavered as a crease formed between her brows. Even though her mom was in her midseventies now, Carol could easily picture how she looked years ago with their piercing blue eyes, full lips, and narrow nose. Her age hadn’t softened her heart or her sharp appearance. She still wore her long hair pulled back in a bun, though the strands were white now instead of the light brown she’d shared with her daughter.

  “You’re not sick, are you?” Judith asked.

  And that was the extent of the warm welcome, which really was about as much as Carol was expecting. “No.”

  “You shouldn’t be here if you’re sick.”

  “I’m not sick. I’m tired. I’ve been on the road.” She stepped closer, but the way Judith reared back caused Carol to stop. Her obvious aversion to embracing her daughter stung.

  “Wash, please,” Judith said.

  Carol let the request sink in for a few seconds before turning toward the restroom. This wasn’t anything new. Judith had never been warm and affectionate. Ever. In fact, if she had smiled and opened her arms like Ellen, Carol would have been the one pulling away with hesitation.

  As she washed, Carol pictured the one thing she was counting on to keep her grounded over the next few weeks.

  Tobias had filled their backyar
d in Houston with a variety of flowers. He would spend hours trimming and pruning and talking to the plants as she sat at the little wrought-iron table reading and sipping wine. If Carol cleared her mind enough, she could take herself back there. As a warm breeze brushed her cheeks, she could hear his deep, soothing voice and smell the sweetness of Salvia dorisiana, one of the varieties of fruit-scented sage he’d loved so much.

  Those were some of the happiest moments Carol could recall, and she clung to them like the lifeline they’d become. She was going to need that lifeline to get her through forcing her apathetic mother to face their broken relationship.

  “What the hell am I doing?” she muttered, grabbing the pristine white hand towel embellished with her mom’s signature needlework. Carol took her time wiping the water from her hands and face before staring at her reflection.

  Part of her wanted to walk out there and announce she’d changed her mind about how long she intended to stay. She’d hang out for a day, maybe two, and then be on her way. But she was here with a purpose, one she couldn’t walk away from. Facing the chasm between them was the only way to cross it. She couldn’t run from her past forever.

  The last few months had taught her a brutal lesson—the past always came back to be resolved. She had to work this out while she could. Life had shown her time and time again that people could be ripped away without warning. Her mother was older—time was running out.

  “You can do this,” she told herself before folding and rehanging the cloth precisely how it’d been before she’d dried her hands and face.

  Back in the kitchen, Carol stopped at her mom’s side. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “You too,” Judith said, though her attention remained on the soup.

  “So you’re one of us old retirees now,” Ellen said, busying herself with fixing a pot of coffee. Though she hadn’t looked at Carol as she’d spoken either, her lack of eye contact didn’t feel nearly as deliberate as Judith’s.

  “I am.” Carol tried to not overanalyze the slight she felt, but her mother’s cold shoulder was already irritating her. She hadn’t been in the house for five minutes yet, not nearly enough time to start reading too much into her mother’s behavior.

  “And living in an RV,” Judith stated.

  Then again, the clipped tone illuminated everything Carol needed to know. She was getting a frigid greeting because her mother disagreed with her choices. As usual.

  “For now,” Carol said. “That will grow old eventually, and I’ll settle down somewhere.”

  “Where, Carol? You’re selling your house.”

  Carol cast a glance at her aunt, who diverted her eyes like a child trying to avoid trouble. From the moment Carol had filled her mom in on her plans, Ellen had likely been listening to all the ways Carol was messing up her life this time.

  Judith turned and stared Carol down. “And what about your belongings?”

  “I’ve sold most of them.” She stood a bit taller—a matador bracing for the bull to attack. “Mary took the rest to St. Louis.”

  Her mom scowled as if she were already fed up with Carol’s foolishness. “You burdened your mother-in-law so you could roam the country without a care?”

  “I’m sure Mary didn’t mind,” Ellen offered. She was well-practiced at diffusing the tension between Carol and Judith before things erupted. For years, whenever Ellen was visiting, she would wade into turbulent waters in an attempt to calm them. She was rarely successful.

  “No, she didn’t mind.” Carol’s words were almost as sharp as her mother’s. “I didn’t send her home with anything larger than a few boxes of framed photos. Mary was happy to take them.”

  “You told me she drove home in Tobias’s car.” The slight smirk on Judith’s lips seemed to imply that she’d caught Carol in a lie. “That’s a bit larger than a box.”

  Carol bit the inside of her lip. Pictured flowers in the wind. Heard Tobias’s voice in her mind.

  Don’t take the bait, she imagined him telling her.

  “I gave Tobias’s car to his mother,” Carol said calmly. “She’s not storing it for me. I gave it to her after I paid off the loan. All we had to do was switch the title. There was no burden passed to her. Thank you for being concerned, though.” The last bit came out dripping with sarcasm, but Carol didn’t care. For Judith to suggest Mary viewed Carol as the inconvenience her parents always had enraged her. She would never place undue stress on Tobias’s family. They were the best thing in her life.

  Judith narrowed her eyes into an accusatory stare. “Is this some kind of midlife crisis or…or…some kind of mental breakdown?”

  Ellen carefully set three bowls on the counter before turning toward Carol. Where her mother had been direct and borderline harsh, her aunt offered Carol a concerned look and soft smile. “Honey, did something happen at that conference?”

  Carol creased her brow with confusion. “What conference?”

  “You went to a conference, and then, out of nowhere, you decided to retire and sell everything to live in your camper,” Ellen said. “Why? What happened?”

  John. John had happened. Her ex-husband had shown up and turned Carol’s life upside down, as he’d always done.

  Carol had loved being an executive at a pharmaceutical company. However, she’d clung to the monotony like a life preserver after Tobias’s death. She’d stopped living—socializing was limited to work; her home became an extension of her office. When John resurfaced, he’d forced her to face that she’d put herself on autopilot and was in danger of never coming out. He had woken her from a daze and made her promise she wouldn’t spend her life hiding behind her desk. She had the money and the means to travel. She only had to find the courage to leave the security of her self-inflicted prison—which she’d done without much of an explanation to her mom and aunt.

  Though it pained her to concede so soon into her visit, she had to give this one to her mom. From Judith’s point of view, Carol’s abrupt redirection came out of nowhere. She didn’t know where Carol had been or what she’d been going through because Carol had constructed a story about going to a conference rather than dealing with the fallout of her mother’s reaction to her taking a trip with John.

  Explaining to her mom and aunt where she’d been, as well as what she was planning to do after her visit, was one of the many reasons for needing to see them in person. This wasn’t something she’d wanted to discuss over the phone.

  “I wasn’t at a conference,” Carol said calmly as she sat at the small round table in the corner of the kitchen. “I was on the road, but I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

  Judith slammed down the wooden spoon she’d been using. Droplets of soup landed on her apron. “So you lied?”

  Ellen waved a hand at Judith, as if to dismiss her anger, and stepped closer to Carol. “Why would we worry, sweetheart? Where were you?”

  Carol took a second to brace herself, knowing the reaction from her mother was going to be over the top. “I was with John.”

  Judith visibly stiffened, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin as she widened her eyes. “John Bowman?” She spit out his name as if the words tasted bitter on her tongue.

  Carol supposed they probably did to Judith. Her parents never forgave her for falling in love with a man they hadn’t deemed good enough. When she’d gotten pregnant and switched from premed to nursing, John became the bane of their existence. Though Carol and John’s daughter, Katie, had been the best thing in Carol’s life, her parents had never come to accept John.

  On one hand, Carol didn’t blame them. John’s devil-may-care attitude had been an affront to everything they stood for. They’d warned her he was going to drag her down. They’d been right. He’d distracted her from her studies, seduced her into his bed, and spent the next eight years undermining every attempt she’d made to get her life back on track.

  However, her parents had made things so much worse than they should have been. If they’d been kinder and more sup
portive, she might have felt she’d had the support system she needed to leave John long before she did. Long before staying with him had cost her everything.

  Katie had died in a horrible accident weeks after her sixth birthday. An accident that everyone, including Carol, had blamed on John. She’d hated him for decades. She hadn’t forgiven him until he’d reappeared out of nowhere and she finally came to understand he hadn’t been the only one to blame. Something her mother would never comprehend.

  “Oh, God,” Ellen moaned. “Why?”

  “He found me in Houston about two months ago and wanted to take that trip we’d planned for Katie.”

  Though Ellen was the calmer of the two sisters, her voice came out shrill, somewhere between disbelief and accusation. “And you went?”

  Carol hadn’t wanted to take that trip, but she didn’t regret going. If she hadn’t, she never would have found a way to forgive John and let go of the anger that had been holding her back. “He was sick.” Her voice came out tense. John had so quickly gone from her archenemy to someone she could admit she had always cared for in some way. Losing him hurt. “He needed to make peace with the past before he died. So, yes, I went.”

  “Carol,” her aunt said, sounding as if she’d been the one encumbered with nursing John for weeks. “No wonder you look so exhausted. Honey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she stated without hesitation. “Seeing him again was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’d been hanging on to a lot of anger and resentment for so long, but he helped me realize I needed to make peace with the past too.” She smiled as warmth filled her chest. “We went to all the places Katie had wanted to see.”

  “Mount Hushmore?” Judith asked softly.