“Jeff!” someone shouted. “Carrie?”
It wasn’t Jeff’s voice, though. It sounded like Greg, only he sounded just as angry.
Before Amber could respond, there was another voice, one that she knew as well as her own.
“Carrie, open up! It’s Braden.”
Amber rushed to the door and whisked it open. Braden and Greg ran inside, both of them soaking wet.
“Where’s Carrie?” Greg said, looking around.
“I don’t know,” Amber said.
Greg ran into the kitchen and family room. He flew up their stairs and circled back to them just as fast. “Where are they? Where did Jeff and Carrie go?” Greg huffed. “We saw Jeff headed this way after her. Where did he take her?”
Seeing Greg so angry only made Amber more frightened. “Jeff just left with his boys,” she said. “But Carrie’s hasn’t come back from the meeting yet. Why? What’s going on? What happened?”
“Why isn’t she home?” Braden asked.
“I don’t know! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Amber said.
Greg shook his head. “First, tell me what happened with Jeff. Fast.”
As Amber recounted Jeff’s coming and going, the fury swelled in Greg’s eyes. When she finished, Greg looked at Braden. “He won’t go lookin’ for Carrie, will he? Wherever she went, he’s not gonna hunt her down, will he?”
“I don’t think so. It’s dark out, but…” Braden shook his head. “No, not with the boys.”
Greg whirled around and punched the door.
Amber’s heart stopped. “Somebody better tell me what’s going on right now. This is my sister we’re talking about. I have a right to know what happened!”
“Go ahead,” Greg said to Braden. “I’m goin’ out to look for Carrie.”
As Greg took off outside, Braden leaned against the door. Amber and his sisters crowded around so he could recount the meeting. By the time Braden finished, Amber was the one punching the door.
“I hate Jeff,” Amber said. “I hate him! Carrie doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, and he has the nerve to call her selfish? He just crushed her in front of the world. In front of Greg! I hate him!”
“Greg was about five seconds from leveling him,” Braden said. “We all were, but then May jumped in. Hopefully Carrie knows Jeff’s just a hothead. This will all blow over.”
“No,” Amber said. “You didn’t see him. He was so mad. He doesn’t even want Carrie to babysit anymore.”
“He doesn’t?” Braden asked.
Lindsey shook her head. “He went totally nuts. It was scary. Can you imagine if Jeff found out that the raid was Amber’s fault? He’d kill her.”
Braden’s head jerked up. “What?”
Amber froze.
Turning slowly, Braden regarded Amber with eyes that resembled turquoise daggers. “What does she mean that the raid was your fault?”
Amber couldn’t move. She couldn’t even look at Braden.
Lindsey realized her mistake, but instead of covering for her, she only made it worse.
“Amber messed up the days, Braden. She’s the one who heard Oliver wrong, but you can’t tell anyone. I’m serious. Think of what Jeff would do to her.”
Braden didn’t blink or turn away. His glare pierced Amber to the core. “It was you?” he whispered. “Careless Amber?”
Tears pricked her eyes and stung her throat.
Before she could explain, the back door slid open. Carrie came inside the kitchen. Her yellow work shirt was soaked and plastered to her thin body. Same with her hair. She didn’t even notice the four of them watching her until she reached the stairs.
She stopped and looked at them. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion as rain dripped down her face, like she was there but not there.
“Carrie?” Amber whispered.
Without a word, Carrie turned and walked upstairs. As her bedroom door shut, Amber’s eyes spilled over. It took every effort to face Braden again. Her tears blurred him beyond recognition, yet she could still see the anger rolling off him.
“And you hate Jeff?” Braden said.
Amber didn’t see the front door when it slammed in her face.
thirty-one
“CAN I COME IN?”
Carrie lifted her head. Zach stood outside of her bedroom door, watching her for who knew how long. She was lying on top of her blankets on the floor where she’d spent most of the day listening to the rain drip from her bathroom ceiling into a pan. She’d spent the previous day doing the same thing. Listening. Thinking. Rain could do that to a person.
She was tempted to send Zach away so she could have more time with her thoughts, but the look on his face changed her mind. He looked upset, almost frightened.
Sitting up, she said, “Sure. Come on in. Let me dump the rain bucket first.”
Carrie went into the bathroom and dumped the heavy bucket into the tub. In another hour, there would be enough for a bath—a freezing one, but even that was a luxury since they had stopped bathing at May’s. Amber wouldn’t have to worry about water for the toilets and washing hands for a few days either. Having a leaky roof came in handy sometimes. Indoor plumbing again. Although…they would have fresh water out their back door any day now. Because of Greg.
Once the first plings hit the empty bucket, she wandered back in.
Zach sat on her blankets, leaned against the wall. “Are you okay, Carrie? Are you sick or somethin’? You didn’t even tell me to do the chickens today.”
She sat down next to him. Sick wasn’t the right word. Depressed maybe, although that wasn’t quite right either. She wasn’t sure what she was. Lonely. Confused, maybe.
“No,” she said. “I’ve just been missing Mom and Dad.”
“Really? I didn’t know you still thought about them.”
“Of course I do,” she said. “Why would you think something like that?”
Zach stared down at his hands. “We don’t talk about them anymore.”
With a stab of shame, she realized he was right. While her parents were never far from her thoughts, it was less painful to vocalize that life-shattering loss over and over again. “I think about them every day, Zach. Sometimes every hour. Especially when I’m sad.”
“Like right now?” he asked softly.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Like now.”
Her head throbbed. She pulled her knees to her chest to compensate for the void inside her. Zach did as well, and for a time, each was lost in their memories.
Growing up, Carrie thought her family was average. They laughed. They fought. They worked and played. But more and more, she realized what a treasure her parents had been. From the time she was born, their world revolved around their three kids. Never once had she doubted herself or their marriage, creating the safest environment any child could have. Then life crashed, and they were gone.
Going from the center of their universe to the center of no one’s was by far the most painful thing she had ever experienced. People say time heals all wounds. It was a lie. The longer it went, the less she could remember their voices, their smiles, the way their hugs felt. The longer it went, the more it killed.
Yet looking at Zach, she found a pain surpassing her own. He was an orphan more than she was. She lost her parents at seventeen years of age. He, at eight. And as she looked into his blue, frightened eyes, she caught a glimpse of what that loss had done to him. So she decided to open up the part of herself she kept hidden from the world: her heart.
“Sometimes,” she said quietly, “I wish Mom and Dad were here so I could ask them questions.”
“Like what?”
Instead of going into the twisted emotions of Greg and Oliver, May and Jeff, she chose a safer path. “I’d ask Mom how to make carrot soup exciting or how to get stains out of your new shirt without soap.”
Zach noticed the green streaks on his shoulder. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. Tucker blocked the plate, but I had to slide. I had to. Even Greg
said so.”
She smiled sadly. Zach’s two new obsessions: baseball and Greg. Both had turned him into a little kid overnight. She couldn’t figure out why or how Greg found time to play baseball with Zach when he seemed to spend every waking moment on the well.
Her well.
The first well.
Greg.
The happiness was short-lived, but the sadness was always there, pounding against her like the rain pounded on the roof.
“There are times,” she whispered, “I would give anything to talk to Mom and Dad again.”
“Me, too.”
Zach sniffed, and she glanced sideways. His eyes were red and his skin, splotchy. Suddenly she saw herself for what Jeff said, a selfish person, thinking only of herself. Even knowing Zach was in pain, she still obsessed about what had happened.
She decided right there and then that while she was no longer the center of someone’s universe, Zach could be. She owed him that much.
Straightening, she nudged him. “What would you ask Mom and Dad if they were here?”
“Well…” He wiped his nose. “I’d ask Dad how to fix a tire so I could ride my old bike. CJ said I could have it since I lost Dad’s baseball in the raid, but both tires are flat.”
“I can patch them,” Amber said from the door. “Dad taught me.”
Carrie looked up in surprise. She hadn’t heard Amber come upstairs. Of course, up until a few seconds ago, she hadn’t heard anything but her own narcissistic thoughts. Amber looked as miserable as Zach did. Carrie’s two days of self-absorption had taken its toll on her siblings. She waved Amber to join them on the floor. Amber sat on the blankets and laid her head on Carrie’s shoulder.
“What else?” Carrie asked, trying to add more joy to her tone.
“I’d ask Mom to be my teacher again,” Zach added. “She was a lot funner than you.”
“More fun,” Carrie corrected automatically, and then she elbowed him. “Thanks a lot, by the way.”
He laughed. “What? It’s true. You’re boring.”
“I am?”
When both siblings nodded, Carrie frowned. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What about you, Amber? What would you ask Mom and Dad if they were here?”
Amber’s beautiful, dark eyes turned to liquid. “How to make a guy stop hating you.”
“What?”
Amber’s head fell on her knees and her shoulders began to shake.
“Amber?” Carrie put a hand on her back. “What happened with Braden?”
“Nothing!” Amber wailed into her arms.
Carrie looked at Zach who just rolled his eyes. Carrie stroked Amber’s long hair. Once the tears slowed down, she could find out what happened. Until then, it was useless. Just another sign that she’d been in her own world far too long.
“What would you ask Dad, Carrie?” Zach asked.
She didn’t answer immediately since her question would be close to Amber’s. Between Greg, Jeff, and all men in general, she’d never felt so confused. Add Oliver into the mix, and she had a migraine. But she found something less painful.
“I would ask Dad how to fix a leaky roof. Or how to keep a door from jamming in the winter.”
Amber looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “I would ask Dad for a hug. One of his big ones.”
The three siblings instinctively wrapped their arms around each other.
Carrie couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have Amber and Zach at least. Each of them held remnants of their parents: Amber, with their mom’s auburn hair and quick wit; Zach, with their Dad’s freckles and fun-loving nature; and Carrie, with the ability to love them both unconditionally.
“Do you think they miss us?” Zach asked, sounding much younger than thirteen.
Carrie laid her head on his. “I know they do.”
“I bet they watch us,” Amber added. “I bet they smother us with hugs and kisses while we sleep. Our own guardian angels.”
A smile spread inside of Carrie. She liked thinking that she was still the center of their universe, only in a realm she couldn’t see.
“What would they tell us if we could see them?” Carrie asked.
“Clean your room,” Zach drawled. “Wash your hands. Don’t punch Amber.”
“Dad would tell me to quit whining and fix it,” Amber said, sniffing. “As if that would help.”
Carrie nodded. “Dad would definitely say that, but I was thinking more about what Mom would tell me right now. ‘People who give sunshine to others can’t help but give some to themselves.’” She paused, pondering the sudden burst of wisdom. Her dad got her through the meeting. Maybe her mom could get her through the consequences. “I could really use some sunshine right now.”
“Me, too,” Amber whispered.
“You’re both wrong,” Zach said. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t say any of that. They’d say, ‘Who wants ice cream?’”
Carrie turned slowly. He was right. Her parents always found joy in the pain, the sunlight in the rain. That was them. And in that moment, she decided it could be her, too.
“How about it, you guys? Should we make ice cream?”
“What? We can’t make ice cream,” Amber said.
“No. I think we can,” Carrie said, mind racing with excitement. “Zach, go to May’s and ask for some ice. There’s not much left in the freezer, but we only need a few chunks, and we’ll put it back when we’re done. Amber, find out who got the fresh milk today and ask if we can have some. Wait,” Carrie remembered. “We’re out of sugar but, hey, it will be close enough, right?”
“What about salt?” Amber asked. “Don’t you need salt for something?”
“Oh, right. Shoot.”
Carrie deliberated. Her siblings needed this. She needed this. “Tell you what, if you’re willing to have tasteless soup until Terrell gets back with supplies, I’m willing to use the last of our salt. What do you say? Who wants ice cream?”
Zach was up and out of the room before she finished.
Amber smiled a slow smile. “Okay.”
Carrie laughed when her siblings showed up ten minutes later with not only the right ingredients, but half the kids in the clan.
Even though everyone only got a spoonful, and even though it was the runniest, blandest ice cream ever, it was perfect.
* * * * *
“Here you go, Greg. I apologize that I’m not the chef your mother is.”
Greg inspected the plate Richard O’Brien handed him, unsure what to make of the yellow mush. It looked like soggy bread covered in wanna-be-Alfredo sauce. Even then, Greg’s still-traumatized stomach rejoiced at the sight of any meal. He stabbed his fork into the mix, brought out a chunk of something and, to his surprise, enjoyed the flavor.
“Not bad,” he said. “Thanks for dinner, Richard.”
“Sure. Sure.”
While they ate, they watched out the upper window of Richard’s two-story home. Greg was glad Richard agreed to entertain him for a bit. Being with the old accounting professor was not only mentally stimulating but vastly refreshing, especially during four hours of guard duty.
“It’s scary how fast I’ve grown unaccustomed to guarding,” Greg said. “Especially considerin’ how much of the last five years I spent watchin’ my back.”
“Six,” Richard corrected. “Do you realize it will have been six years this summer?”
Greg did the math. The first stock market crash was right before the fall of his freshman year. UNC-Chapel Hill ran out of funds faster than the banks, and the school shut down mid-sophomore year, well before the second stock market crash, the one that finished off the dollar.
“Wow. Time flies,” he said.
“Sometimes.” Richard motioned to the window.
Greg straightened, realizing he wasn’t watching the main road very well. Braden had better be doing a better job down at the South Entrance. Both of them had warning bells—Jeff’s old duck hunting whistles. Incidentally, they’d bumped up blocking off the South Entran
ce on the priority list. With luck, finding a doctor would be added to the list soon. If not, Greg would strike out on his own. Carrie wasn’t the only one who could make decisions without clan approval.
“It’s not my fault I’m so antsy,” Greg said. “There’s always somethin’ to be doin’ around here. Carrie’s well caved in today with all this rain. Now it’s a huge mud pit. Watchin’ a road feels like a real waste of time, one of my not-so-great ideas.”
“No. This is good practice. This is practice, right?” Richard asked. “Or do you actually expect a patrol car to drive up that road?”
Greg shook his head. “Regardless of my grandma’s threats, if there was an Oliver-less raid comin’ up, Carrie woulda told us. She’s mad, not suicidal. I suppose I could march over to her house and ask, but I figure she needs some space. Everybody does.”
“True. Have you seen Jeff yet?”
“Nope,” Greg said. “Fine by me.”
Richard took a bite of his dinner. “I heard both Green families are moving into the cul-de-sac. Watsons, too. It’s nice to know something positive came from all this.”
Nodding, Greg took another bite. “What do you think Oliver will do when Carrie tells him off?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to get a good read on that man.”
Greg sighed. “If he was like any other guy, he’d turn vengeful and take us all down, Carrie worst of all. But I think he’s got a lot of Carrie in him. How is it that two people who are so similar aren’t already together?”
“Maybe they’re too similar. Opposites attract, you know.” Richard shot Greg a smirk which Greg ignored. “But don’t be fooled. Just because Oliver is quiet, doesn’t mean he has good intentions. He could run, disappear, or retaliate, and no one knows which he’ll choose. Not even Carrie. All I know is that if he does retaliate, no amount of guarding will keep us safe.”
Greg stirred his yellow mush. “Man, what I’d give for some sort of listening device, a phone, or walkie-talkies. Somethin’ so I could hear that conversation.”
Richard smiled. “Why’s that?”
“So I can gauge how fast he’s gonna destroy us.”
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 23
