by Marci Bolden
“I’m sorry.” John sounded sincere.
The car started to cool, but the tension made the atmosphere as unbearable as the afternoon heat had. The proximity to the Gulf of Mexico could make summer afternoons in Houston feel unforgiving. John wiped his hand across his forehead before dragging his palm down his thigh.
Though she had grown used to the temperature and humidity, she remembered how stifling it had felt when she and Tobias had first relocated. Suppressing the urge to let her ex swelter unnecessarily, she turned the temperature down a few degrees.
She didn’t owe John an explanation, but the words tumbled out of her as the air filtering from the vent cooled. “He was hit by a truck while on his morning run. It was foggy. The guy didn’t see him in time.”
“How did you meet him?”
“When I went back to school.”
“Medical school?”
She licked her lips. “I went back for medical science. We had a class together.” Warmth filled her chest at the memory and a smile eased the tension in her jaw. “Sometimes I had to go to class straight from work. One day this snotty twenty-something made a comment about how I smelled like vomit and bleach. Tobias’s mother was a nurse, so he took great offense. He put her in her place, then asked me out to dinner. He was trying to be nice, but we had a great time. We were fairly inseparable after that.”
“Sounds familiar. We were inseparable for a while, too.”
The absurdity of his observation caused a soft laugh to escape her. “My relationship with Tobias was nothing like what I had with you.”
Despite her warning not to touch anything, he turned a vent to blow into his face. “So what do you do with your medical science degree? Because you sure as hell aren’t seeing patients dressed like that.”
She returned the vent to its original position, which she’d angled for optimal cooling of the entire cab, not just the passenger seat. “I work for a pharmaceutical company keeping it FDA compliant.”
“Working for Big Pharma, huh? That’s noble.”
She glanced over in time to catch him roll his eyes. Though she had a million ways to defend her job, she chose not to. He’d never understand that she could help people without being hands-on. In his mind, executive positions were a sham created by rich people to keep them rich.
“How are your parents?” she asked to distract him.
“Gone. Mom thirteen years ago; Dad eleven. Both had cancer.”
“I’m sorry. They were always good to me.”
“Mom was heartbroken when you left. You were like a daughter to her.”
Carol’s chest grew heavy remembering the petite woman who had always greeted her with gentle hugs. John’s mother had taken Carol under her wing, taking time to teach her things about life her mother never had. “Leaving wasn’t easy, but it was best to cut ties. She would have tried to change my mind.”
“They missed you. They hated how things ended with us. So did I. Just so you know.”
“I think we all hated how things ended, John.”
Silence hung in the air for a long moment before he muttered, “You know what I mean.”
She did know what he meant. Disappearing in the middle of the night and sending divorce papers from hundreds of miles away had been the chickenshit way out, but it was the only way she would have found the courage to leave. “We weren’t going to recover. Not after everything that happened.”
“I know.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“Yeah. And your parents?”
“Dad died of a heart attack Thanksgiving Day a few years ago. Mom sold the house and moved to Florida with her sister.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
Glancing in the side mirror, she eased into the center lane before admitting, “We barely spoke after I moved.”
“I’m not surprised.”
She focused on maneuvering through mid-afternoon traffic as quiet settled between them. Carol tried to fight the memories, but John had opened the floodgate she’d kept hermetically sealed for years. Flicking her eyes his way, taking in his profile, she could almost feel herself being propelled back in time.
Caroline lifted her gaze to the police officer. He offered her a lopsided grin in response. They’d been exchanging flirty looks at the coffee shop for two weeks. She smiled as she returned her attention to the books sprawled out across the table.
Her heart jumped in her chest when he finally made a move. The anticipation had been building, a slow burn that had risen to the point of consuming her. She thought of little else, which was not like her. Her focus tended to be firmly on the plan she had made for herself. She had her life plotted out, and a girlish infatuation with a cop hadn’t factored into it. Which, for some reason, made him that much more appealing.
He spun the chair across from her, straddling the seat as he rested his arms on the back. The brazenness of his action should have sent her running, but she was intrigued. His confidence was like a cloud that surrounded her, impeding her from seeing the warning signs that were flashing neon lights around him. “Have a drink with me.”
She couldn’t stop her grin from widening, but she kept her eyes on her books. “No.”
“Dinner?”
“No.”
“Coffee? I know you like coffee.”
“No.”
He sighed with exaggerated disappointment, as if she had been rejecting his advances for months instead of moments. She finally gave in and looked at him. Damn, he was even more handsome close up. His dark hair was unkempt, only adding to his attractiveness. His eyes were blue, like hers. The color was light at first yet seemed to darken as she stared. She now understood why people were fascinated by the ever-changing shades of her irises. Looking into his eyes was hypnotic.
She managed to tear her gaze away and look at the notes in front of her. “I’m studying for finals.”
Nabbing one of her books from the pile, he flipped through a few pages. “What’s your major?”
“Pre-med.”
“Gonna be a doctor?”
“A pediatrician.”
Dropping her book on the table, he heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
That wasn’t the response she usually received. Most people were in awe of her choice. “Why’s that?”
That goofy grin formed on his lips again. “Doesn’t seem right to ask a pediatrician to play doctor with me.”
She creased her brow at his bad joke, but couldn’t help but giggle in a way that sounded more like the girls she’d despised in high school than her studious self. “As if I would anyway. I don’t even know you.”
His smile sent a thrill through every nerve in her body. Boys didn’t smile at her like that—like they wanted more from her than answers to a test or help with a paper. Boys didn’t notice girls like her. However, this man had, and Caroline’s heart was doing crazy things in her chest.
He winked, as if he hadn’t done enough damage to her insides already. “You’re right. We should fix that. Go out with me.” He lifted his hands. “I’m a cop. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
Somehow, she doubted that—she was already in danger. She didn’t know a lot about men, or dating, or…lust, but looking into his eyes made her stomach roll over and her body tingle in ways she didn’t understand.
“I’m John,” he said, extending his hand.
She hesitated before slipping her palm into his, sensing that she would be sealing her doom the moment she touched him. “Caroline.”
He opened his mouth, but she lifted her free hand to stop him. “No, I was not named after a Neil Diamond song. No, I do not like that song. No, you may not sing it to me. Ever.”
“Me sing Neil Diamond?” He chuckled. “That’ll never happen.”
“Thank you.”
“Meet me here tomorrow night at seven, Sweet Caroline.”
She started to chastise him, but he smiled and winked, and the words left her.
“Leave the books
at school.”
She didn’t respond as he stood and spun the chair back around the right way. He walked away, as smugly as she’d ever seen a man walk. As he left, she debated what she should do. He was clearly going to break her heart, but there really was no deliberation to be had. She’d show up. She’d known it the second he’d asked. She’d heard sparks could fly between two people, but she’d never experienced it. Never even really believed it until the first time she’d glanced up and found John watching her. She’d instantly felt alive and a million red flags went up in her mind.
She ignored each and every one. There was something about him she couldn’t resist. She’d smiled and held his gaze and willingly walked into the web he’d spent the last two weeks spinning for her. A trap she feared she wasn’t woman enough to handle.
Twenty minutes later, Carol pulled up to a large iron gate. She waited for the inevitable lecture, but John sat silent as she slid a fob from where it was attached to her visor. He didn’t say a word as she stretched to hold it to the scanner. However, as the gates opened, he apparently couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.
“You know—”
“If you’re about to spew statistics about crime inside gated communities,” she said, “you can shut your mouth. This has been a perfectly safe place to live for the last fifteen years.”
He pressed his lips together, remaining speechless. Carol steered through the neighborhood she and Tobias had selected specifically for the children they’d never have. She pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom red brick house that had become a one-bedroom mausoleum with an upstairs office and a shrine to the past. The large windows on the front offered plenty of natural light, but she’d rarely opened the blinds since Tobias’s death.
Seeing her neighbors going about their lives as if her world hadn’t been completely upended eight months ago was too painful. Watching life continue without Tobias was so gut-clenchingly unbearable, she tended to hide from the reminders that life did indeed go on.
The garage door rose when she pressed a button on her rearview mirror and she parked her SUV next to Tobias’s sleek black BMW 760Li. John didn’t say a word as he stood, looking over the sedan, but Carol suspected he was thinking how unfair it was that a guy who studied the environment got a car like that while “hardworking Joes” could barely make ends meet.
She silently dared him to make a comment, just one, about her husband. He didn’t. He met her at Tobias’s bumper and followed her through the garage.
“You should lock this,” John said when she opened the door between the garage and her kitchen without using a key.
Ignoring his suggestion, she set her briefcase on the counter on her way to the fridge. “Something to drink? I don’t have much. Orange juice. Water. Milk.” She read the date on the nearly empty half-gallon jug. “Scratch the milk. This is probably cheese by now.”
“I’m okay. Thanks.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and scanned the living room while she set the jug in the sink to deal with later.
Following his gaze, she tried to see her living area through his eyes and imagined he saw the pristine white sofas and glass-topped coffee table as sterile and unwelcoming. If she were honest, she did too, on some level, but that was how she liked things. Clean. Orderly. Uncluttered. Even so, she rarely spent time downstairs anymore. Most evenings, she walked in and filled a glass of wine, and then carried it to her office upstairs, where she worked until she went to bed.
Avoiding the rest of the house made it easier to pretend Tobias was working late or holed up in his home office. Maybe having dinner with friends. Or visiting his mother. Anywhere that didn’t involve a casket and a hole in the ground. She’d considered selling the house several times, but she could still feel Tobias here, and she wasn’t ready to leave him behind. She’d already left too much behind in her lifetime.
“Is this your husband?”
She hadn’t noticed John leave the kitchen. Seeing him in her living room holding a photo of the last anniversary she and Tobias had spent together felt like a betrayal to her husband. John’s sudden reappearance in her life seemed like an invasion. He had no right to see that photo, to peer into the life she’d made without him. She crossed the room, took the frame from him, and put it back in its place, adjusting the angle until the photo sat in its proper position.
“He’s Black,” John said, as if he couldn’t make sense of what he’d seen.
Scowling at him, she said, “Your keen observations must be the envy of the entire police department.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Of course not. Nobody ever means it like that, John.”
“It’s only that—”
She lifted her brow, waiting for him to try and climb out of the hole he’d dug himself into. When he pressed his lips together instead of trying to explain himself, she eased her defensive posture. “Tobias was brilliant and successful. He was kind and understanding. I could not have asked for a more loving and supportive marriage than that man gave to me. But, yes, let’s focus on his race because that’s what’s really important.”
John lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay, I deserved that. I’m sorry. You look happy in this picture, Caroline.”
“I was. My husband made me very happy.”
“I’m glad. I’m sorry for your loss.”
The irritation that had been choking her since he had shown up at her office started threatening what little control she had left. Counting to five in her mind, she tried to calm herself. The exercise didn’t help. Her brain and body remained on high alert, agitated as hell at his presence, at his intrusion, but mostly at his ignorant observation about Tobias. “Let’s get this over with so you can go.”
He stopped staring at the photo and met Carol’s gaze. In that moment, with his suit jacket rumpled, his hair longer than most men his age would wear it, and a touch of insecurity in his eyes, she saw him for the irresponsible man-child she’d married thirty-plus years ago. Her heart did a little flutter—not like it had the day he’d picked her up for their first date, but like that of someone about to face some long-held fear.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d known this day would come. The day she had to face the past she’d spent so much time running from. From the moment John had resurfaced, she’d unwittingly been strapped into a roller coaster. The slow climb was over. She was about to reach the highest point and tumble into a downward spiral. All she could do was hold on and hope it was over soon.
“Where is she?” His voice was no more than a whisper and contained a tremor of fear Carol found at odds with the foolhardy man she remembered him to be.
“Upstairs.” Somehow Carol found the strength to take a step. Then another. Every stair she conquered exhausted her. The weight of the past constrained her, making every movement toward the second floor nearly impossible.
Reaching the first door on the right—the one she rarely found the courage to open—she gripped the knob. Her heart raced. Pounded. Slammed painfully against her ribcage.
She wasn’t sure why. Her daughter was in there. Waiting. Always waiting. For some reason, her stomach rolled as she turned the handle. Sweat broke out on her brow. The last time she and John had stood together as parents had been during the worst time of her life. Those memories clawed at the back of her mind, demanding to be set free after years of being locked away like the monsters they were.
Swallowing her fear, she pushed the door open and lowered her face as John stood motionless beside her. “Come downstairs when you’re done.”
He grabbed her hand and murmured her name. The desperation she saw in his eyes was the same she’d seen all those years ago and caused her lungs to restrict until breathing became impossible.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered now, as he had then. “I know it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference, but I am so sorry, Caroline.”
Her eyes began to burn. Her vision blurred. She blinked back her tears, but the sheen distort
ed his face. Gasping, she jerked her hand from his. “Do what you need to do. Then leave.”
He nodded and stepped into the room. She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t stop staring at his slumped shoulders as he crossed the room. For the briefest moment, he stood in silence before a sob ripped from his chest as he dropped to his knees in front of the pink-and-silver urn that held their daughter.
Two
The anniversary of Katie’s death hit Carol especially hard this year. Tomorrow would have been her thirtieth birthday. She’d be a grown woman. She’d have a career. A family.
Carol should have been a grandmother. She should have a family to visit, to hear their laughter and share their stories. She should have had a lifetime of memories with her daughter. Instead, she had nothing more than a tiny front tooth, an old stuffed bear, and a box of knickknacks she couldn’t bring herself to throw away.
And an urn full of ashes.
She forced the echo of the doctor’s words from her mind before they could take hold and make her remember the feeling of her child’s lifeless body in her arms. She opened a bottle of wine and filled a stemless glass, wishing she had something stronger than Pinot Grigio to numb the stabbing pain in her chest. Her second glass went down nearly as fast as the first. By the third, she was calm enough to carry the drink to the sliding glass doors and stare at the flower garden that filled her backyard with vibrant colors.
Tobias had the grass stripped out after they’d accepted they would never need room for children to play. Instead of a swing set and sandbox, he filled the area with delphiniums, lilies of the Nile, salvias, and more varieties of blooming hosta than she could name. A stone path flared into an oval with a small wrought-iron table and two chairs that reminded her of a café in Paris they’d visited the summer before he’d died.
He’d practiced speaking French as she sipped her coffee and ate a pastry. For the most part she’d held in her giggles, but every now and then his forced accent was bad enough that a laugh rose from her.