Carrie’s father sat in the recliner she and Brian had bought him for Christmas. He gave her a big smile when he saw her. “Hi, baby.”
Carrie went over to her father and hunkered down beside his chair. “How are you doing, Dad?”
He studied her for a few moments. “Not so bad. Did your mom tell you I’ve been going to that indoor pool the school built? It’s open to the public a couple evenings a week. It seems to make my back and leg feel better.”
“Dad, I’ve told you all along if you want to go to therapy, or if a hot tub would make things better—”
“Carrie, darlin’, you’ve paid for enough. And I don’t want to drain insurance we might need later. I had enough therapy after the accident to last me a lifetime. And a hot tub? Well, I can’t get no exercise in that. But I can in the pool. Hank’s been driving me.”
Hank Conroy, one of the men her dad had worked with a long time back, was one of his few friends who’d stayed in touch.
“Hank’s getting a potbelly,” her dad explained. “He wants to try and do something about that.”
Carrie studied her dad’s weathered face, his brown hair with its receding hairline, his eyes which ever since his injury had held pain. Today, there seemed to be something else there, too. “I’m glad you’re getting out.” Carrie patted his hand. “When your TV show is over, you come tell me all about it.”
After Paula took Carrie’s coat, she carried it to the laundry room to let it dry. Carrie wandered into the kitchen, where the lemon cake was sitting on the counter.
Her mother came in saying, “I made chicken salad for lunch.”
“That sounds great.”
“Want a cup of tea?”
Carrie could see that her mom had already set a few packs of different types of herbal teas on the table. The teakettle was just beginning to steam. “A cup of tea would be good. I’m going to give Lisa a call to make sure everything’s okay.”
A few minutes later Carrie had learned the girls were giving each other pedicures. She told her mother that.
Paula smiled. “You like having this girl around, don’t you?”
“It’s like taking care of Brenda, Whitney and Mary all over again. Yes, I like having her there.”
Her mother tore open a package of cranberry tea then dunked the tea bag into her cup of hot water. “I’m glad Whitney and Mary won’t be here for a little while.”
“Why?”
Her mother hesitated, dipped her tea bag a few more times and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “I told your father.”
Carrie wasn’t sure what her mother meant. “You told him what?”
“I told him about your rape and abortion and why it’s so hard for you to have kids.”
Carrie felt as if the floor had dropped from beneath her. “Why? Why did you tell him now after all this time? I don’t know if I’m going to be able to look at him now. He must think—”
Suddenly she heard her dad’s unsteady gait behind her. He was in the kitchen, too, leaning against the counter. “I don’t think anything different about you, Carrie, than I ever did. I knew something awful had happened to you. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep, you didn’t come out of your room. Your mother said you had the flu and you were exhausted. I’m not that stupid.”
“I never thought you were stupid, George,” Paula said.
“You must have thought I wouldn’t care. You must have thought I was so lost in myself that what happened to Carrie didn’t matter. I guess I was or I would have pushed for explanations. Maybe I just didn’t want to know. Maybe I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to one of my little girls.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Carrie whispered, tears coming to her eyes.
Her father had never been openly affectionate and now he stood where he was, leaning on the counter for support, as straight and rigid as his body could get. “I guess it makes me feel a little better that you never told your sisters, either. Just your mama and your agent.”
“I couldn’t tell anyone. I felt so ashamed…so worthless. Then time passed and I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget it.”
“Have you forgotten it?”
“No.”
After he appraised her steadily, her father sighed. “You should tell Brian.”
Her answer was automatic. “I can’t. I’m afraid he’ll leave.”
Her father’s voice held more strength than she’d ever heard from him. “If you tell him and he leaves, then you shouldn’t be together.”
“I love him, Dad. I can’t bear the thought—” Her voice broke.
Her father crossed to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Of a life without Brian? I get that. I don’t know what I would have done all these years without your mother. But I gotta ask you, Carrie, what kind of marriage do you have if you can’t tell him the truth?”
Carrie looked into her dad’s brown eyes. The life he had been through had taught him things she’d never know. But she believed if she ever told Brian the truth, she’d have to be strong enough to accept his leaving.
Standing, she gave her father a hug and felt his arms go around her. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”
But there seemed to be so much at stake right now, she didn’t know if she’d ever find the courage to let her husband go.
Ten
Dusk was settling over Windsor as Carrie said goodbye to her parents, Whitney, Mary, their husbands and children. She went to her car and started the ignition, then backed out of the driveway. Her mother came outside and waved as Carrie drove down the street. After Carrie honked her horn, she concentrated on the drive back to Portland. It had been an odd day, and the repercussions of it were still rattling around inside of her.
After all these years, Carrie had never expected her mother to tell her father exactly what had happened when Carrie was eighteen. But she had.
Before Whitney and Mary had arrived, Carrie had asked her mother, “Why now?”
Paula had responded, “Because it’s a barrier between your dad and me. Because life is too short, and I’m getting too old to watch my words. But most of all, because I needed to admit what I had done. I had to get rid of that weight. Not that I ever will. But sharing it with him has helped. Back then I didn’t think he was strong enough to deal with it all. But about six months ago, he sent for a carving kit. He started spending a lot of time in the basement. He’s been carving decoys. And Hank even sold a few for him at the senior center. I think he’s gotten his self-respect back. Not only that, but for Christmas this year, he carved an elk for me and gave me a card that said he still remembered the one we saw on our honeymoon when we went to Alaska. I guess it made me realize that no matter what happens, we have each other. We’ll always have each other.”
Carrie’s mom had showed her the elk then, and it was beautiful—as beautiful as the acceptance in her father’s eyes after she’d hugged him. Maybe his pain had helped him understand hers.
As Carrie drove, she considered her father’s advice to tell Brian. Yet even as she considered it, phrases Brian had used just in the past few weeks came back to haunt her. Fear doesn’t absolve her. I expect the truth. A choice I can’t forgive.
Between thoughts of Brian and her parents, Carrie thought about her enjoyment of playing with her nieces and nephews. When she considered the idea of becoming a mother, it filled her with anticipation and excitement, and she could almost push everything else away. All of it was like a merry-go-round in her head as she drove, as the rain pelted the hood of her car and water sluiced across the highway.
About a half hour from Portland, she thought about calling Lisa, but driving on the wet, puddled road required all of her concentration. She’d have to drive Ariel back to the shelter tonight. She hated to do that. But maybe she could help her find a job—
One moment Carrie was watching the taillights on the car in front of her, the next that car listed to the left and fishtailed right. With only an instant to react, she steered her car to the left
and went off the shoulder of the road into the guardrail. Although her seat belt held her, the angle of the impact pulled her sideways and her head banged into the door frame.
All light left her world. She was catapulted into a black quagmire where everything was silent.
The cabin in Deep Gulch, Alaska, was heated by a woodstove and had few amenities. There was a cot with a narrow, thin mattress and wool blankets. Brian had melted snow for drinking and a bit of cooking. The scarred old table was accompanied by two rickety wood chairs. It had suited Brian as he’d studied topographical maps by the light of a kerosene lamp. Often his thoughts veered toward Carrie after the day of flying over locations. He’d come back to the cabin hungry and tired.
However, suddenly as he’d sat down to work, he’d lost his appetite and his heart had begun racing. It was an odd sensation, almost like a blow.
Going to the cabin door, he’d taken in lungfuls of cold air and stared out over the white barren landscape. In the silence, he’d experienced a twisting yearning in his gut for Carrie that he couldn’t understand. It had been so strong that he’d used the satellite phone to call her. She hadn’t answered at the house, nor had Lisa. Carrie hadn’t answered on her cell phone, either. That was unlike her.
After an hour, the panicked sensation quieted to a whisper of concern that hadn’t left him as he’d worked.
Leaning away from the lantern and the map in his creaky chair, he studied the notes he’d made over the past two days.
However, when a series of beeps emanated from the SAT phone on the cot, he almost turned over the chair in his hurry to reach it. He told himself it could be Ted, it could be Derrick, it could be the pilot.
But none of those voices met his ear. “Mr. Summers?” Lisa asked in a shaky voice.
“Yes. Lisa, is that you?”
“I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour. The call wouldn’t go through.”
“Sometimes there’s interference on these phones. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Carrie. She’s been in an accident!”
His heart stopped. “Is she all right?”
“She’s hurt. There were four cars involved. Her airbag didn’t pop because the side of her car hit the guardrail.”
He swore. “How badly was she injured?”
“They’re running tests. She’s still unconscious.” Her voice broke. “Can you come home?”
“The pilot dropped me here, then went to make a delivery in another village.”
“You’ve got to come back here, Mr. Summers. Carrie needs you. We don’t know what to do.”
Carrie had been right about this trip. He never should have left Portland. Not only was he worried sick about her and chomping at the bit to get to her, but all this stress wasn’t good for Lisa and her baby, either. “Lisa, I want to talk to her doctor. Can you give him my number?”
“She doesn’t have just one doctor. What if he can’t get through to you like I couldn’t get through?”
“He will if he keeps trying. If he doesn’t get through to me, I just need a name so I can have him paged.”
“I’ll ask one of the nurses at the desk, but I—”
The teenager’s voice was trembling. He could hear the tears that threatened to spill over. “Lisa, I want you to take a cab and go back to the house. You need to rest and calm down.”
“How am I going to calm down when I don’t know how Carrie is? If she’s going to wake up? Ariel’s here with me. We’re going to wait in the lounge.”
Brian knew how stubborn Lisa could be. “All right. But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“After you’ve talked to the nurse, I want you to rest on the sofa and put your feet up. Have Ariel bring you a glass of milk from the cafeteria.”
Silence met his suggestion.
“Lisa?”
“You don’t want anything to happen to the baby,” she said, as if she understood.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. Now please, get me the doctor’s name. After you do that, I’m going to call the pilot and see if he can fly me out of here tonight. I’ll be back there as soon as I can.”
A few minutes later when Brian clicked off the phone, he felt as if he’d lost touch with the rest of the world. Where had Carrie gone today? And what had caused the accident? He realized he was thinking about those questions because he couldn’t think about his wife asleep…maybe never waking up.
By the time the doctor returned Brian’s call, Brian had almost worn a path on the wood floor in the small cabin. But the pilot couldn’t get him out until morning and there was nothing he could do about that. He felt powerless. The feeling made him want to punch his fist through the cabin wall.
When Carrie’s doctor spoke to him, worry receded somewhat. Carrie was awake now. She had a concussion and her shoulder had taken most of the impact from hitting the door and was bruised. Her doctor intended to watch her closely over the next twelve hours, and he kept insisting she was one very lucky woman.
Brian decided he was one very lucky man.
The wait for morning seemed interminable. Although he left Deep Gulch early, everything about the return trip seemed to be in slow motion.
Finally, he was there in her hospital room and Lisa was glaring at him reproachfully. “Where have you been?” she asked under her breath, as she met him at the door.
“A weather front moved in last night and I couldn’t get out until this morning. Why? Has something changed?”
Lisa’s face was pale and drawn, and she looked exhausted. “No. She called for you in the middle of the night and you weren’t here.”
“Did you stay with her all night?”
“Yes, I stayed with her all night. She didn’t have anybody else here. She didn’t want me to call her parents, didn’t want to worry them.”
Guilt stabbed deep, but Brian’s defenses slipped into place. “Well, I’m here now. Did you say your friend was with you?” Brian glanced around.
“She’s in the lounge. She stuck with me all night.”
Brian grabbed a few bills from his wallet. “You and Ariel get something to eat before you leave. Then call a cab to take you back home. Rest. I think the doctor’s going to discharge Carrie later today. I’ll call you and let you know what’s happening.”
Brian looked over Lisa’s shoulder again. Carrie still seemed to be sleeping.
“You won’t forget to call me?”
“I promise I won’t forget.” As Lisa began to leave the room, Brian laid his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Lisa.”
She looked surprised at his thanks, then she conjured up a smile and headed for the lounge.
Brian approached Carrie’s bed slowly, as if she were Sleeping Beauty. She looked pale. The faded hospital gown and a crisp white pillowcase under her head didn’t help.
Dragging the chair beside the bed, he sank into it, and took one of her hands between his.
Her eyes fluttered open. He would have kissed her then, but her words stopped him. “What are you doing here?”
“Lisa called me. Didn’t she tell you?”
Carrie shook her head and then winced. The movement must have made her head hurt. Suddenly, Brian knew why Lisa hadn’t told Carrie she’d called him. The teenager hadn’t been sure he’d come home. Didn’t she realize how much he cared about Carrie?
His wife’s eyes were troubled now as she murmured, “You had to cut your trip short. Brian, I’m sorry. I’m fine, really. You shouldn’t have done that.”
Didn’t she want him here? Was she was afraid he was going to be angry because he couldn’t finish what he’d started in Alaska? Was she concerned now he’d have to go back?
Studying her closely, he knew he couldn’t read her any more. That worried him almost as much as her accident. “I’ve accomplished most of what I set out to do. I just had to cancel today’s meetings. Ted will be flying to Anchorage to meet with investors.”
“This deal is so important t
o you.”
“You’re important, too, Carrie.”
As she appeared to absorb his words, she still didn’t smile. She seemed so far away, even though he was holding her hand, even though he could lean forward a couple of feet and kiss her. “Tell me what happened yesterday. Where had you gone?”
“I went home.”
For a moment he was blank. Then he realized she meant somewhere other than their house. “To your mother’s?”
“Yes. I hadn’t seen them since Christmas, and—” She hesitated and then quickly added, “Whitney and Mary came over. It was just for a couple of hours. Ariel stayed with Lisa. Are they still here?”
“I sent them to get something to eat and gave them cab money home. To our house.”
“Lisa’s been here since Nancy Allen called her.”
“Nancy was in the emergency room when you came in?”
“Yes. She didn’t know where to get hold of you, and when she called the house, Lisa answered. Lisa was here every time I woke up.”
There was definitely a bond between Carrie and Lisa, a bond he was beginning to feel, too. “Lisa said you didn’t want her to call your parents. Do you want me to call them now?”
“No. I’m fine, Brian, really.” Carrie began to sit up, but her breath caught and her hand went to her head.
“You’re not fine.”
“The doctor’s releasing me this afternoon.”
“Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean you can go back to your normal activities. I’m going to find your doctor and see what’s going on.”
Brian was still holding her hand, but now she pulled it away from him, nervously, it seemed to him, and brushed her hair behind her ear. “I must look a mess. I had no idea you’d come back this soon.”
His gut twisted at her words. He realized not only didn’t she trust him, but she didn’t depend on him. That cut deep because he’d felt he’d never been anything but dependable. Sure, he’d worked hard. But usually she could reach him with a phone call. Usually he could put aside what he was doing for an emergency. Gazing into her eyes right now, he felt as if they were almost strangers.
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