The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

  They returned to the area outside the main house, and a few more people had arrived for the pig roast. Including one that Billy was less than thrilled to see. Dr. Soos had made a house call.

  Both the doctor and Dana lit up the moment they laid eyes on each other, and like some universal force had taken her over, she ran to him. They embraced, and then he twirled her around like they were on the dance floor.

  When the twirling stopped, she said, “You remember Billy, right?”

  Dr. Soos remembered him … whether Dana did was unclear.

  “How could I forget—that dimple alone put us over our goal at the Valentine’s auction.” They shook hands; Billy surprised by the doctor’s strong grip. He was under the belief that surgeons always had soft hands.

  He looked to Billy. “So how did it work out with your date that night? If I recall, she was the most stunning woman in the room.”

  “It turned out pretty well,” he said, but wasn’t falling for the compliments this time.

  Dana held up her finger, showing off the sparkly diamonds of her engagement ring. “I’d say it turned out more than pretty well.”

  Dr. Soos smiled at them both. “Congratulations! And I guess that means our deal is off, Dana—the one where if we’re both still single when we’re forty, we’d marry each other.”

  Dana laughed. “I’d forgotten about that. But we are planning a Christmas wedding, so I still have almost six months to scare him away.”

  They laughed, Billy did too, but he didn’t think it was particularly funny. It hit a little too close to home.

  “So it looks as though you two lovebirds are headed out for the day—I didn’t know William and Kate were hosting a gala. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”

  “Close—the annual Boulanger Fourth of July party. You should come with us.”

  Billy bristled at the possibility, while Dr. Soos flashed a sarcastic smile. “I’ve found the old adage to be true: those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.”

  Dana playfully tapped him on the arm. An arm that had spent much time in the gym, Billy noticed—a sculpted bicep bulging from the short sleeve of his tan golf shirt. Shouldn’t he be spending his off time reading a medical book or something?

  “I recall us having some pretty good times there. I’m sure a lot of people would love to see you,” Dana countered.

  “As enticing as that sounds, I made the trip from Boston to attend the world-renowned Whitcomb Pig Roast, and to schmooze the hospital’s most important donor, Carolyn Whitcomb. So it’s not all play for me.”

  Dana deadpanned, “That check Carolyn handed you—you might want to trace who that bank account belongs to.”

  Ah, rich people humor, what could be better than that? Billy thought. Oh yeah, a visit from Hawk.

  He stuck out his meaty hand for Dr. Soos to shake, and introduced himself as New York’s #1 sports talk radio host.

  “I’m Donovan. I’m a pediatric surgeon, but I really don’t know my ranking.”

  “A surgeon … I’ll bet you get serious hot women with that.”

  “You see right through my game, good man—medical school was nothing but a ruse to land babes.”

  Hawk nodded knowingly. “Well played, doc.”

  A sudden buzz could be heard through the grounds. Billy noticed Carolyn, who looked particularly excited.

  And he knew why. The Borchers had arrived—Guy, Heidi, and yes, Ryan. Dana put her hand over her heart, and began to tear up.

  At first glance, from a distance, Ryan looked like a new person. His body had filled out some and color had returned to his face. He even had a small amount of dark stubble growing on his head. He still wasn’t back to being the hockey star they’d seen in the photos, but he appeared to be well on his way.

  “Just an amazing recovery,” Dr. Soos gushed. “If you would have seen him the first week he was admitted, you would never have believed he’d be here today. And there were days I was worried if Heidi would make it as well—she lived every moment with him, every chemo treatment. She showed such amazing strength.”

  Guy and Heidi looked the part of the attractive couple, well tanned, and not appearing to have a care in the world. But Billy knew the scars on the inside would never go away. He was living proof.

  As they greeted Chuck and Lindsey and handed over some sort of dessert, Billy expected Carolyn to make a made dash to Ryan. But instead she retreated. Was she overwhelmed? Maybe she had regrets about the hair and was now embarrassed. He wasn’t sure.

  She made her way into the house, but then re-emerged, this time holding an acoustic guitar. “Everybody please pay attention,” she shouted out, and all eyes went to her. “I’m going to play a song for Ryan.”

  She began strumming the guitar with gusto and sang for all to hear. Her voice might have been more suited for scaring away small animals, but musical appreciation was subjective, and one thing that always struck Billy was that she never held back. She was all in. In everything she did. They could all take a lesson.

  When she finished, the crowd gave her an ovation. Lindsey had made her way to her and whispered in her ear. And then Carolyn returned inside the house. Billy hoped it wasn’t similar to an encore at a concert where the lights go down and the band acts like the show is over, only to return for the obligatory two more songs.

  Billy and Chuck looked to Lindsey as she walked toward them, a sneaky smile on her face. “So that’s what you’ve been doing in her room—the big secret.”

  “Guilty as charged. I was a music major in college, but my Dad made me go back and get my teaching degree so I had something to fall back on. I used to give guitar lessons to make extra money.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Chuck said, “But what song was that?”

  “She wanted to learn a song for Ryan, and he’s a big John Lennon fan. I didn’t know any of his solo stuff, so I went Beatles—that was ‘Revolution’.”

  Billy replayed it in his head to see if at all resembled The Beatles classic. Once again, he determined that music was subjective, and decided against judgment. And besides, Ryan was the one it was for, and he looked pleased.

  Carolyn returned, sans guitar this time, and went right to Ryan, stopping just short of him. “Ryan—you came to my house. Did you like my song?”

  “You killed it,” he exclaimed.

  Her face saddened. “You didn’t like it?”

  “No—I loved it. Killed it means good.”

  She looked confused by the word choice, but not about Ryan. She was sure about him. She jumped into his arms and they hugged. He tried to pick her up, but he was still noticeably weak, wincing as he raised her upward.

  When he set her down, Carolyn said, “You have more hair, Ryan.”

  He smiled back at her. “You have less.”

  He then let her rub the new stubble on his head.

  Billy and Dana stuck with The Beatles theme, with a “you say hello, I say goodbye” greeting.

  “I’m sorry we have to go, but it’s so good to see you here—out of the hospital and looking healthy,” Dana said.

  “So how are things with the wedding going?” Heidi asked.

  Billy and Dana looked at each other, and Dana answered, “We still don’t have a place to have it, or a house to live in once we do, but besides that …”

  “I’m sure it will turn out fine, and then you’ll be off on your happy ride together.”

  “She hasn’t scared me off yet,” Billy said with a smile. “But there’s still six months to go.”

  “I’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff,” Heidi continued. “The big stuff—health, love, security—sweat away, freak out, go nuts. But a wedding, or a house … doesn’t really matter in the big picture.”

  Great advice, and who better to give it than someone who had gone through what their family had. What Billy couldn’t decide was, were his concerns of the big variety or the small stuff?

  Eventually, he and Dana the
n left the pig roast, heading for the Boulanger party. Yet, ironically, Billy felt like a pig being led to the slaughter.

  Chapter 32

  Guy Borcher looked down at Carolyn, and said, “Your song was inspiring, madam.” And adding in French, “Ce n’est pas mal.”

  Carolyn giggled. “You talk funny, but I kinda like it.”

  “Where did you learn to play the guitar like that?”

  She pointed to Lindsey. “She’s a really good teacher.”

  Guy smiled at Chuck. “Much different than last time we meet, no?”

  Chuck wasn’t sure if he was referring to Carolyn and Lindsey’s relationship, or his healthy son who stood beside him, but as Carolyn likes to say—it’s all good.

  Perhaps not all was though, as Chuck noticed Hawk making his way over to scare off another of his guests. He went right to Guy, practically knocking people over in the process, like the proverbial bull in a china shop he was.

  “Guy Borcher—I thought that was you,” he said and then the two men shook, not that Guy had a choice.

  “And you would be?” Guy asked back.

  “You might not recognize my face, but I’m sure you’re familiar with my voice.”

  Guy remained puzzled, so Chuck stepped in and introduced Hawk, explaining that he was a sports radio personality in New York.

  “Oh, yes, I didn’t connect the face to the voice,” Guy said, even though Chuck could tell he still had no idea who Hawk was.

  “They do say I have a face for radio,” Hawk said with a heavy laugh, and nobody stepped in to disagree.

  “Listen, Guy,” Hawk continued, pronouncing his name like an alternative term for a male, rather than the proper Gee. “I just want to say that all that stuff I said about you, back when the Bruins and Rangers faced off in the playoffs, I was just doing my job, so I hope there’s no hard feelings.”

  “I guess that would depend on what exactly you said.”

  “My partner used to imitate you, but in a sort of Pepe Le Pew voice, making fun that you were a Frenchie. And he made gagging sounds, because of the way you choked in the series.”

  Guy shrugged, maintaining a neutral look, but Chuck noticed a twinge of the fierce competitor he remembered. “It’s not a problem—the lions are rarely concerned with the opinions of the sheep.”

  Hawk didn’t pick up on the put-down. “But it wasn’t really your fault the team spit the bit. Your teammates were a dumpster fire, and that coach—the supposed genius John Dobbs—he had no clue how to properly use you.”

  Guy looked to his wife with a smile, and she happily interjected, “John Dobbs is my father.”

  Hawk was unapologetic, and looked to Guy with a big grin on his face. “Banging the coach’s daughter—well played, my man.”

  He extended his arm to fist-bump, but Guy smartly rejected the offer.

  “Shouldn’t you be on pig duty?” Chuck asked Hawk.

  They were supposed to check on it every half hour, to make sure the fire was still hot, and the pig hadn’t made a run for it, but more importantly, it was an opportunity to get rid of Hawk before he instigated an international incident.

  “I thought the pretty-boy doctor was on that.”

  “Between you and me, I don’t trust a vegetarian to be in charge of the pig.”

  Hawk thought about it. “He does seem like one of those leaf-eating communists—maybe I should go make sure everything is running smooth.”

  Chuck nodded at him, as if to say they understood each other—talk about well played.

  As he trudged away, Hawk did have a final comment, “Don’t worry, Guy—we’ll make sure it’s real tender so you don’t choke on it.” He laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

  “He’s interesting,” Heidi commented.

  “That’s one word for it,” Chuck said.

  He then offered to give the Borchers a tour of the property. But before they did, Carolyn said, “Ryan—do you wanna come see me swim?”

  He looked at his parents, then back at Carolyn. “Sure—I guess.”

  Anything to get away from the adults—the natural born enemy of all teenagers.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Heidi said.

  “He’ll be fine,” Guy took the boy’s side, and his wife didn’t look happy about it.

  “I’m just going to watch her swim,” Ryan said. “I’d get more worn out walking around the yard.”

  “And what happens if you have to jump in to save her? You’re not strong enough yet to do that.”

  Ryan let out a typical teenage sigh, and Carolyn added on his behalf, “There are lifeguards on duty.”

  “That is true,” Chuck said, and left it at that.

  Heidi chewed it over, before giving in, “No swimming—you promise?”

  “Who said anything about swimming?”

  “I did.”

  “Fine—no swimming … even though nobody said anything about swimming.”

  Once he received the motherly blessing, Carolyn grabbed Ryan’s hand, and began dragging him toward the pool area.

  “Easy, Carolyn,” Chuck called out, as if she even knew what that meant.

  Guy and Heidi followed Chuck and Lindsey in the opposite direction. It was a sun-drenched afternoon, the smell of barbecues in the air—a long way from that hospital room back on Valentine’s Day.

  Guy was completely engaged, hanging on Chuck’s every word as he explained the unique property and its interesting back-story. Heidi, on the other hand, appeared lost in thought, and would occasionally glance back in the direction of the pool.

  In that way she reminded Chuck of Beth. He used to grow frustrated with her overprotectiveness of Carolyn that sometimes bordered on paranoia. But that was one of the things he missed most about her. And man, he would have loved to have seen the two of them battle it out when Carolyn became a teenager.

  Chuck continued the tour, explaining how Beth’s adopted grandmother, Beverly, had left her husband, and the Boulanger family, to be with her true love, Evelyn. They purchased this farm in New Canaan, which was connected to a cul-de-sac in a ritzy suburban neighborhood, yet back far enough in the woods to provide ideal privacy. They named it Bevelyn Farms.

  When Beverly bought the farm in a more figurative sense, and Evelyn retired to Florida, she willed it to Beth, who also had been ostracized from the Boulanger family. Beverly had a soft spot for those shunned by the Boulangers.

  Chuck and Beth couldn’t turn down the opportunity to raise Carolyn in a place like this, even if it was a struggle to live above their means. Chuck held down numerous jobs, and they could only afford to live in a small portion of the house, since it was too expensive to heat in the winter. And they basically survived off of loans from Dana, which weren’t really loans, since she refused attempts to pay her back.

  They approached the main house. The exterior looked like an arch-shaped, red barn typical of the New England countryside. A large silo stood next to it like its protective big brother.

  When they stepped inside the converted barn, into the expansive Downstairs Room, the Borchers appeared struck by surprise. It was the usual first reaction, since most guests weren’t expecting something worthy of a spread in Town & Country magazine, featuring heavy honey-colored timber and a cathedral ceiling that soared up two stories. The expectations were more along the lines of chickens and tractors. Beth decorated it herself with a rustic motif, and Chuck had changed very little in her absence.

  “This place is fantastic,” both Borchers said at the same time, the first time they were in synch since their arrival.

  Chuck continued with the grand tour, leading them up the spiral staircase to a balcony, and then into Carolyn’s room—a cavernous area that ran the length of the house, and was once used to store bales of hay.

  “She sleeps in here? It’s like an airplane hanger,” Heidi commented.

  Chuck laughed. “She starts out here, but usually finds her way into my room sometime during the nig
ht.”

  It wasn’t your typical bedroom of a soon to be six-year-old girl, that was for sure. But if you could look past the twenty foot ceiling, or that you could comfortably play a game of touch football in it, it had the usual elements—a small, neatly made bed with a pink bedspread. Her dolls were lined up against the wall, along with her hockey stick. On her dresser sat the bowl that contained her fish, Puck. And next to Puck were two framed photos of Carolyn and her mother.

  They returned downstairs, where Heidi took note of the fieldstone fireplace in the Downstairs Room. She mentioned that it was similar to the one she wanted for their home in Boston, but Guy thought it was too pricey. They started to bicker, then caught themselves and laughed—a few months ago they could only dream of fighting over something of so little importance. The world had temporarily returned to normalcy.

  They moved into the country kitchen. This is where Chuck felt Beth’s presence the strongest. He could still see her standing in front of the sink, tending to her dish-washing obsession, the sun reflecting off her strawberry blonde hair and highlighting the freckles around her nose. Lindsey must have sensed that he’d gotten lost in a tough memory and grabbed his hand to help ease him back into reality, their fingers intertwining.

  “You okay?” she asked. He smiled at her to let her know that he was.

  Chuck walked to the refrigerator and took out a handful of beer bottles. He put them into a cooler and suggested they go have a drink—enjoy a few minutes of quiet conversation before the majority of the guests arrived. All agreed.

  They headed for the guest cottage, which had a rooftop porch—the ideal spot to kick back a few beers under the sun. But along the way they stopped by the pool to check-in on the kids. Heidi was more than happy to do so, as her protective nature continued to gnaw at her.

  When they arrived at the gate and she viewed the scene, her eyes bulged from her head, and her cheeks turned red with anger.

  Chapter 33

  On the way to the pool, Ryan said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your dad, but I saw your fight on TV.”