by Marci Bolden
“I think that would be lovely, Mom.” She tilted her head at Ellen. “And you?”
She blew a raspberry. “It never did feel like home there. Take me to Colorado, though, and I’ll introduce you to the craziest bunch of old biddies you’ll ever meet.”
Carol laughed. “Deal. What do you think, Mom?”
Judith sighed and shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough of life on the road for now. Maybe next summer.”
“Next summer it is.” Carol wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t expected Judith to last this long on the road. By the time she got them back to Florida, her mom would probably never want to step foot inside her RV again. “I reserved a hotel for us while we’re in Dayton. I thought we could all use a break.”
“From each other or from such tiny living quarters?” Ellen asked.
“Both.” Carol grinned and winked at her. “I reserved one room, but if you’d like your own space—”
“I was kidding,” Ellen said.
“Even so,” Carol pressed, “I’m happy to get each of us a room if needed.”
Judith shook her head. “We should stick together. Women traveling alone are vulnerable.”
Carol saw her mother’s lecture coming before she even started, so she quickly redirected the conversation. “I’m excited to see Katie’s House. I’m glad we’re going to arrive a day early. It’s going to be emotional enough without me being overwhelmed by the changes.”
Ellen smiled. “I was thinking that I’d like to donate some art. Do you think that would be okay?”
“I think that would be great. Thank you,” Carol said.
Her brow creased. “I’m not sure how I’d get it there, though.”
“We’ll work that out when it’s ready,” she assured her aunt. “I’ll talk to someone at the hospital to see if they would be willing to handle the package.”
“By someone, she means Simon,” Judith said to her sister, but she was eyeing Carol with a twinkle in her eyes.
Seconds passed before Carol realized her mom had teased her. She was too shocked to respond.
However, Ellen nudged Judith. “Sounds like he’s already handled her package.”
Carol widened her eyes. “Did you just… Aunt Ellen! In front of my mother?”
Ellen laughed heartily. Even Judith giggled.
“It’s not like I don’t know what you two were up to,” Judith said. “Your father and I—”
“No.” Carol practically jumped from the table. “No. No.”
The laughs from the other side of the table increased.
“It’s not as if a stork brought you,” Ellen added.
“Stop,” Carol warned. “This conversation is over. Dead. Done. Never to be brought up again.”
She grabbed her plate and walked into the RV as they continued laughing. If this had happened any other time, Carol would probably have regretted confessing her true relationship with the man, but this odd moment of bonding was worth the embarrassment. She waited until she was inside to laugh as well.
Twelve
The atmosphere in the RV changed when the trio arrived in Dayton. The weight of what would be coming the next few days seemed to become more than they could bear. Not just the ceremony and the anniversary of Tobias’s passing, but also the planned visit to Dennis’s grave. A place Carol hadn’t been since his funeral. And two graves she’d never visited. Frannie and Mark Bowman had been gone for years.
The stress of what they would be facing in the coming days had gone unspoken but not unnoticed. They had all grown more pensive as they carried overnight bags to the hotel room at the same hotel where she and John had stayed the last night of their trip. Instead of cooking another meal in the RV kitchen, they’d sat at the restaurant off the hotel lobby, but even then, the conversation was quieter, more serious.
Once they returned to their room, they rotated through the shower and getting ready for bed. Her mom and aunt had turned off the lights above their bed almost immediately, but Carol knew she wouldn’t sleep. Her mind was racing, replaying the last night of John’s life over in her mind.
Looking back now, she should have known how things were going to end. He’d been calm that night. He’d been aware. She’d known his time was running low, but she hadn’t realized he’d be gone the next day.
She hadn’t let herself think about that night in weeks, but being in the same hotel made the last bit of time she’d spent looking after him come rushing back. When he’d first shown up at her office, she was reminded how much she hated him. By the time he’d died a few weeks later, she’d realized that despite everything they’d been through, part of her had still loved him. He was the father of her child, the man who had helped her break the cycle of people pleasing, the first person who had ever made her feel like she was worth something.
Despite all she’d come to despise about him, those things had remained and she’d still had love for him because of them. She was glad that he’d found her. That she’d had a chance to meet the man he’d become—a recovering alcoholic willing to admit he’d been flawed, instead of a selfish drunk who blamed the world for his problems. She’d always known he could be more.
Thinking about John was a distraction, however. The real reason she couldn’t sleep was because the anniversary of losing Tobias, the light in her life, was getting closer minute by minute, and she suspected it was going to hit her like a wrecking ball. She’d been hoping having the ceremony, being surrounded by family, would help, but now she was beginning to think she would have been better off hiding in her RV alone somewhere so no one else had to see her fall apart.
And then there was Simon. She should have told him not to come to the house dedication. She should have told him she couldn’t see him.
On the anniversary of losing Tobias? What had she been thinking? She was going to be a mess, thinking about how she’d lost her husband. About the last time she’d heard his voice. The last time he’d kissed her head. The last opportunity she’d had to tell him she’d loved him but she’d rolled away from him and gone back to sleep.
Carol rubbed her hands over her tired eyes and silently cursed herself. What the hell had she been thinking?
“Stop it,” a soft voice came from the other bed.
Carol dropped her hands. “Stop what?”
“Obsessing about whatever you’re obsessing about,” her mom said.
She smiled, but her lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. “You were right, Mom. This is too much. I shouldn’t have… Why did I…” A wry laugh left her. “It’s too much.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” She snagged a tissue from the box between their beds and wiped her eyes.
As she did, Judith slipped from her bed and walked around Carol’s. She got under the covers on the other side of the queen bed and leaned against the headboard. “Let’s work our way down the list. Start with John so we can get that out of the way and move on to more important things.”
Carol chuckled, but her smile faded quickly. “He killed himself.”
Her words hung in the air before Judith said, “I thought he had cancer.”
“He did, and it was winning. He was in a lot of pain and was losing control of his body. He waited until we got to the house and then he took a bunch of pills when I was in Katie’s room. I found him outside. In the grass. Right where…” She sniffed and clutched the tissue in her hand.
Judith pressed her lips together for several seconds before saying, “He shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“He didn’t want to continue declining.”
“He shouldn’t have done that to you,” Judith stated again.
“Looking back, I think I knew he was going to,” Carol said. “I knew he wouldn’t let the cancer win. He wasn’t that kind of man, you know. He was going to go out on his terms.”
“Going on his terms would be admirable if he hadn’t left you holding the bag like he always did.”
Carol smiled. “Who else was g
oing to hold the bag for him, Mom? He didn’t have anyone else.” She put her hand on her mom’s, stopping her before they could spiral into an argument over John. “I owed it to Katie to help him say goodbye to her. I don’t regret it. I’m just sad about it.”
“Sad over John Bowman,” Judith muttered. “The man was…”
“Complicated,” Carol said. “Like Dad.”
Judith pressed her lips together for a few seconds. “Okay. We’ve discussed John. What’s next on the list?”
“Katie’s gone.”
Judith nodded. “We miss her.”
“Very much. But I’ve made my peace with her loss. I can think of her now and smile and know that she’s okay. Wherever she is, she’s okay.”
“Tomorrow will still be difficult. Going to the house, remembering how things used to be,” Judith reflected.
Carol swallowed hard. “At least now it won’t look like the museum John had kept. He still had her red rain boots,” she whispered.
A gasping sound left Judith. “Oh. She loved those boots.”
Glancing at her mother, Carol said, “I packed up some things before I left the house to the contractor. Her boots, some old photos, things that I’d wished I’d taken. I left them at Mary’s.”
“I think I’d like to see them again someday.”
“We can make that happen,” Carol said.
Judith was quiet for a moment. “Okay, we’ve hit John and Katie. Shall we discuss Tobias?”
Carol’s tears returned. “A year ago…” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “We thought we had time. We thought we had years to spend together. We didn’t know.” She bit her lip, but even that old trick wasn’t enough to stop her from crying. “I didn’t know.”
Judith squeezed Carol’s hand. “And what would you have done differently if you had known?”
“I would have said goodbye to him. I would have looked at him. I would have…” Her voice trailed as she considered all the things she would have done.
“I was with your father, you know,” her mom said. “I was with him, and I said goodbye to him. I was holding his hand as he let go. Guess what, darling. That didn’t make grieving for him any easier.”
“I just… I didn’t know how precious that last morning was.”
Patting her hand, Judith asked, “Do you remember the night before?”
Carol nodded.
“Tell me about it. What did you do the night before he died? And keep it PG, please.”
Carol laughed slightly. “He picked up Chinese food on his way home. We both had late meetings. We ate outside, and I cleaned up while he checked his plants. Then…” She closed her eyes and remembered. “Then we had a glass of wine and talked about our days and the weather, and I complained about not being ready for my presentation. When we went to bed, I sat up and worked while he slept beside me. It was perfect. Boring but perfect.”
“Instead of regretting that you didn’t wake up to enjoy your last morning, you should embrace how perfectly boring your last evening was.”
Carol looked at her mom. “I never considered that. I mean, of course I remember that night, but…”
“But sometimes it’s easier to get pulled into the things we wish we could change instead of the things we wouldn’t.”
“That’s incredibly insightful of you, Mom.”
Judith grinned. “I have an incredibly insightful therapist. I could introduce you.”
“Oh my God,” Carol muttered.
Judith laughed lightly as she squeezed Carol’s hand. “Listen, Tobias knew you loved him. Like he loved you. The losses you’d faced together brought you closer. Made you value each other more. He knew you loved him, Carol. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I don’t. I just miss him. I miss him so much.”
“You’re always going to miss him. You’re always going to wish you’d had more time. Like you’ll always wish that with Katie. And it will get easier, as it has with Katie. Life goes on. As hard as it may be sometimes, those of us left behind have to go on too. The next few days are going to be difficult, but you’ll get through them. And then you’ll get through the next few days, and the days after that, and then you’ll realize that you’ve started to heal.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I know I’ll heal. I’ll be okay someday. It’s the time before then that sucks.”
“Oh, I know.”
Looking over, Carol took a few moments to write this moment in her memory, something she’d come to realize was important. “How are you doing, Mom? Really?”
“I’m better. I’m very happy we took this trip. I know I was hesitant, but we needed this time together. To do our own healing.”
“We’re getting there, don’t you think?”
Judith smiled. “I do.”
“So let’s take another trip next summer. Take Ellen to see her crazy old biddie friends?”
Despite the smile that spread on her face, Judith rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.”
Caroline slowed her car as she approached her parents’ driveway. She didn’t like asking them for help watching Katie, but sometimes she ran out of options. Every time she had to leave her daughter unsupervised with her parents, she’d first casually remind Katie of how much she was loved.
“You’re the best girl, kitty cat,” Caroline would say. “Don’t forget that.”
Before she’d leave, she’d kneel down and look her baby in the eyes and whisper, “I love you bigger than the world. You know that, right?”
Katie would always smile. “I love you bigger than the world, Mama.”
She suspected her parents were aware they weren’t her first choice for looking after Katie. She wasn’t great at hiding that fact.
“If you’d rather she didn’t stay the night—” she’d start.
Her mom always cut her off. “We don’t mind, Caroline.”
Still she hesitated.
But this morning, her hesitation had nothing to do with worrying about how her parents were treating Katie. She was shocked by what she was seeing.
Parked on the street, she sat for several long minutes watching her father trotting behind a bright-pink bike with white streamers dangling from the handlebars. Underneath the purple bike helmet, Katie had that laser-like focus she got when she was trying something new as she pedaled hard.
Caroline had never learned to ride a bike. Her parents had told her bikes were dangerous. She could walk if she had somewhere to go, which she rarely did because she wasn’t allowed to do that either. Seeing her father steadying the bike for Katie was something so foreign, Caroline didn’t quite know if she should trust her eyes.
She stood on the sidewalk, feeling like she’d been caught in some kind of dream, until Katie noticed her.
“Lookit, Mama! Lookit!”
The bike wobbled, causing Caroline to gasp, but her dad reacted before Katie could topple over. He grabbed the handlebar and steadied her.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready!” Katie yelled.
He released the handlebar, keeping his hand close in case, but Katie had regained her balance. Caroline bit her lip when he released his hold on the seat and let Katie go. Katie kept pedaling and her smile kept growing. She rode, without any help, right to where Caroline was standing. She’d made it about ten feet without her grandpa’s support, but that was ten feet more than Caroline had ever traveled on a bicycle.
At five years old, Katie had surpassed her mom. Caroline’s heart filled with pride.
“What is going on?” she asked her daughter.
“Grandma and Grandpa bought me a bike.”
“I see that. Where are your training wheels?”
Her dad approached them. “She didn’t want them.”
Since when did her dad care what anybody else wanted? Since when did he teach kids how to ride bikes?
She kept her observations to herself. “Nice job, kitty cat.” She held her h
and up, and Katie gave her a high-five.
“You look tired,” her dad said.
Caroline lifted her eyes to him, gauging if he was making an innocent observation or a subtle cut. “We lost a patient last night. That’s always hard.”
“Well,” he said, “that’s the job.”
Again, she tested his words. Was he trying to be supportive or remind her that she could have been a pediatrician if she hadn’t screwed up her life? She couldn’t tell. Returning her attention to Katie, Caroline smiled. “So, I guess I don’t have to ask if you had a good time with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Katie beamed. “I can’t wait to show Daddy.”
Caroline’s dad huffed out a sigh.
“He’ll be excited,” Caroline said, ignoring the sound of disapproval that always followed mentions of her husband. “Let’s put your bike away now and get your things.”
“No,” Katie whined. “Mama.”
“Katie,” she warned. The last thing she needed was her father commenting on Katie’s newfound tendency to argue.
“I wanna stay.”
“She can stay,” Dennis said.
Caroline darted her eyes to him.
“We’ll practice bike riding more. She’ll be a pro by the end of the day.”
Caroline was tempted to ask what the hell had gotten into him. When he looked at her, though, he smiled. Not a big smile, but more than she was used to seeing.
“Go home and get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll bring her home after lunch.”
“Please, Mama,” Katie begged, distracting Caroline from her confusion.
“Dad—”
“It’s okay,” he said again. “Go get some rest, Caroline. You had a long night.”
Leaning down, she puckered her lips and waited for a kiss from her daughter. As soon as Katie realized that meant she got to stay, she giggled and gave her mom a kiss.
“Love you, kitty cat.”
“Love you, Mama.”
“Thanks, Dad.” With that, she left the surreal world she’d stumbled into.
Her sense of wonder didn’t leave until she got home and found the table littered with beer cans. She was tempted to charge into the bedroom and get John out of bed, demand he clean up his mess, but the fight wasn’t worth it. The longer he slept, the more quiet she would have.
