by Marci Bolden
Carol was happy to listen to his stories. Hearing about Mei helped keep her mind off Tobias. Having a break from her tendency to dwell on the past was nice.
“Now that was worth the hike,” Harold said, causing Carol to focus on their surroundings.
The path had led them to a wire railing intended to prevent people from getting too close to the edge. The layers of exposed rock below them reminded Carol of the Grand Canyon but on a much smaller scale. In some ways, that made this chasm more beautiful. Tourists weren’t flocking to this view, crowding around as if they were the only ones who mattered. The peace here made the view more special, more astonishing. The quiet of the moment added to the impact. There were no other hikers around, no sounds of people gasping and rushing to see the next wonder.
There was simply peace and a beautiful view that was made for them.
Harold put his arm around Carol’s shoulder and pointed up at two sunbeams bursting through several clouds. “Look at that,” he whispered, as if not to break the spell. “There they are. Mei and Tobias are smiling down on us. They’re happy we met too.”
Carol stared at the beams with the same hope that Harold had voiced. Mei and Tobias were there with them.
Maybe Carol hadn’t taken the rafting trip she’d planned, but Harold was right. She could feel Tobias there, wrapping her in the love she’d been missing all these months. The sensation hit her out of nowhere, making her choke. The sob that pushed out rippled through the still air. Harold hugged her closer, patted her shoulder, and pulled a tissue from his pocket as she cried.
The quiet of the Colorado morning was hypnotic. Carol had lived in cities all her life. Sirens or car horns were constantly wailing in the background. Though she and Tobias were in a campground, there was so much space. She felt like she was sitting in the wild as the sky brightened before the world woke. The quiet was eerie but peaceful.
When they’d decided to run a marathon in Denver, Tobias had this crazy idea to rent an RV and turn what was supposed to be a quick weekend trip into a vacation so they had time to acclimate to the higher altitude. When they went to look at rentals, his little spark of an idea had ended with them purchasing a compact motor home. Though Tobias was always thoughtful in his choices, he was also spontaneous like that. He jumped at chances. Everything was an exciting experience waiting to happen.
He was nothing like Carol when it came to taking chances. She was an overthinker. She paused at the edge and peered down, debating how wise jumping would be. Then she calculated the best way to land so she knew what she was in for before her feet ever left the ground.
She thought she was getting better, more easygoing, but she doubted she’d ever be as bold as her husband. She’d never feel so comfortable with life so as to fully embrace it. Life had let her down too many times to be so impulsive.
Tobias was the bolder of the two. She was the worrier, the planner, the caretaker. While he’d slept like a baby all night, she’d been on high alert, wondering how safe they were inside the vehicle. She’d given up even trying to get any sleep around four in the morning and started a pot of coffee while she dressed. Once she had a cup in hand, she moved to a chair outside the RV as the sky was brightening over the horizon.
The sun was peeking at her when she heard the RV door open. Tobias stepped outside and muttered, “There you are,” before sinking into the chair next to her.
She chuckled as she glanced over at him, realizing he seemed more tired now than when they’d finally crawled into bed the night before. “I was trying to let you sleep.”
“You know I don’t sleep when you’re so restless.” Though his tone was rife with annoyance, Carol heard the underlying concern in his mumbled words. He sipped from the mug he’d brought with him. “What kept you up all night?”
“Paranoia,” she confessed with a light voice in contrast to his gruff one. “I spent all night wondering how we would escape if the RV caught on fire or if someone broke in.”
He laughed wryly. “You’re so morbid sometimes.”
She shrugged, unable to disagree with his observation. “Maybe. But we should add a sturdier lock to the door. Maybe get another extinguisher to keep by the bed.”
He didn’t try to talk her out of either. When she got an idea like that in her head, the easiest way to get rid of the thought was to simply follow through. However, he did say, “I wish your brain had a switch so I could shut your thoughts off once in a while.”
She laughed as she toasted him with her mug. “You and me both.”
Quiet fell between them as birds chirped and the world stirred. As the sound grew to include insects, the peace inside her took another one of those darker turns she tended toward. Sometimes, when the world around her got too quiet, the sadness in the back of her mind reached out to her. Her soul had never learned to embrace peace. Peace was unsettling for reasons she’d never understood.
Whenever her mind would calm, a whisper would echo through her, reminding her of all the pain she’d lived through, mostly losing Katie. All these years later, she could still be brought to her knees without warning.
Tobias tilted his head down and eyed her as if he sensed the shift in her thoughts. She never could hide from him. His superpower was seeing through the facade she’d spent her life creating. “I hope you aren’t imagining us burning to death, Carol. It’s too early in the morning for that kind of shit.”
Her lips curved up at how disgruntled he sounded. “Actually, I was thinking…” Her smile softened as she voiced what had suddenly clouded her mind. “We’re never going to have kids, are we? It’s been years since we lost the babies. We’ve never even talked about what our options were to try to have a family. Now, we’re getting too old.”
Tobias sipped his coffee, clearly using the act as a way to figure out what to say next. After several long seconds, he put his mug in the other hand so he could reach out and grasp Carol’s. “We’re not old. Well, I’m not.”
Her lips quirked up again. Rather than respond to his reminder that she had a few years on him, she turned her palm up and entwined their fingers. They’d met in college, but while he’d gone straight out of high school, Carol had returned after several years working as a nurse…and being a mother to Katie. “Nice diversion,” she said.
Staring out at the mountains, he took his time again. Though he could be spontaneous in some areas, he liked to think before speaking, especially when the topic was as sensitive as children. Talks of children inevitably led Carol to thinking of Katie, which had a way of sinking her into a depression that could last for days. “This is the right life for us,” he said in a calm, even tone. “We’ve traveled the world. We’ve been to amazing places, and we’re just getting started on this new journey of driving around the country. We love each other more and more every day. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
She agreed with him but couldn’t disregard the sadness that had filled her mind. She never could ignore the hole in her heart that used to be filled with the joy of motherhood. “Wouldn’t saying no have been easier?”
“No,” he answered quietly. “I think if either of us were committed to making it happen, we would have taken the steps by now.”
He was right. After she’d had two miscarriages, Tobias insisted they wouldn’t try again. However, they’d never even researched what other options they had. They’d never have children. Carol would never be a mother again. She had to admit, part of her was relieved. Losing Katie had nearly destroyed her. The miscarriages had been devastating. The reason Tobias had insisted they wouldn’t try again was because he was scared for her physical and mental health.
There were other ways they could have had a family, but the fear of losing another child always lingered in her mind and prevented her from moving forward. She’d always be terrified, more than most parents. That would have taken a toll on her and their child. She would have been one of those annoying helicopter parents who never let her kid out of her sight.
Maybe things were better this way.
“I wanted to,” she said. “You would have been an amazing father.”
He tightened his hold on her hand. “I’m not sorry, and I don’t regret the choices we’ve made, so don’t go down that road.”
“What road?” she asked, knowing exactly what he was saying.
“I wanted to have children with you, but that didn’t happen. That doesn’t make me want this life any less, so don’t start thinking I shouldn’t have chosen you.”
Damn it. As much as she relied on his ability to read between her lines, she despised how easily he could. “I hate you sometimes,” she whispered.
“No, you don’t. You couldn’t live without me any more than I could live without you.” Tugging her hand, he waited for her to glance at him. “I couldn’t live without you. I wouldn’t ever want to. This”—he gestured at the world around them—“is what I want. This is enough for me. Let this be enough for you too.”
“This is enough,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to keep spoiling Elijah and Lara’s girls.” She couldn’t help but smile when she thought of her nieces. Tobias’s younger brother and his wife had three daughters now, and Carol adored each one. The girls, even though they were young, knew they had their aunt wrapped around their fingers. She didn’t mind. In fact, she cherished the bond they shared.
Tobias nodded. “That’s a good plan. I think we should make a list of all the places we’d like to see. Maybe we can add a stop or two for the girls. We can take them on a trip over the summer. They’d love that.”
A memory, a flash of the past, hit Carol like a burning arrow. Katie had a list. Carol and her ex-husband had promised to take their little girl on their first real vacation. Though she and John couldn’t afford a trip, she’d never taken a childhood vacation, and she wasn’t going to deprive her daughter of that joy. Even though the budget was small, Katie had been so excited when she’d been told to pick a few places she’d like to visit.
She’d made a list in red crayon. The list was too long, but Carol hadn’t told her that. She hadn’t wanted to dampen Katie’s happiness. They’d never taken that vacation. Katie had died before they could. But Carol could remember, clear as day, how Katie had sat at the kitchen table with all her books about America scattered about as she picked what she thought would be the very best places to see.
Pushing the shock of the memory down, Carol blew out a shaky breath, but her heartache remained, and tears fell down her cheeks.
“Hey,” Tobias said gently.
She laughed lightly before wiping her tears away. “Katie had a list for the vacation we were planning. She wanted to go so many places. She was so full of curiosity.”
“So, pick a place for Katie,” he said. “We’ll go there next.”
After clearing her throat, Carol said, “Mount Rushmore. She was the most excited about Mount Rushmore. She couldn’t believe faces could be carved in a mountain.” Carol smiled. “But she called it Mount Hushmore, even when I corrected her.”
Tobias kissed the back of Carol’s hand. “Mount Hushmore it is.”
“And then maybe the Grand Canyon?”
He beamed. “Man, Katie knew how to plan a trip.”
“Yeah, she did.” Carol gazed out at the rising sun. “She would have loved this. She would have…” Her words faded, and she swallowed hard. “I almost said she would have been in heaven here.”
Tobias set his coffee on the ground and scooted his chair against hers so he could drape his arm over her shoulder. He pulled her closer and kissed her head. He didn’t say anything. He’d learned long ago there was nothing he could do to console her when the memory of Katie surfaced. The best thing he could do was let her feel the pain, cry the tears, and then help her refocus when she was ready.
Carol sat at the table of her RV, turning Mei’s worry stone over and over in her hand.
No Regrets.
She was overanalyzing the meaning of those two words. She overanalyzed everything.
As they’d eaten dinner, Harold had told her he was leaving in the morning. They’d have breakfast as they had the previous two days, and then he’d unhook his RV and hit the road. He was headed toward Nevada, where he’d spend the holidays with his family. Then, after the New Year, he’d head back out to destinations unknown.
She was sad to see him go. She’d grown fond of him over the last few days. They seemed like kindred spirits in many ways. He understood the paradox she’d found herself in—knowing she had to pick up and move on but not having a clue how to. Or the willpower to try.
Imagining the sunbeams they’d seen earlier in the day, she dared to think Tobias had sent Harold her way, that he’d had some divine hand in sending a stranger to save her from herself and give her a nudge in the right direction. That would be just like Tobias. Subtle but effective.
Though Carol had turned off the notifications on her phone after speaking to her mom earlier, her smartwatch vibrated, letting her know she was getting a call. The little screen filled with the name of the person disrupting her deep thought.
Simon Miller.
Seeing his name brought mixed emotions. Long ago, she and Simon could spend hours talking about anything. They’d recently renewed their friendship when Simon accepted Carol’s donation to the children’s hospital in Dayton. After John had died, she’d had their old house remodeled. She’d dubbed it Katie’s House and donated it to the hospital for families to stay while their child received treatment.
Though she’d only seen Simon briefly at the dedication ceremony for Katie’s House, talking with him now was like twenty-four years hadn’t passed them by. But, much like Tobias, Simon was too good at calling her out on her shit, and she wasn’t sure she was up for that right now. Sometimes, wallowing was easier—not healthier or more productive, but definitely easier.
Carol debated letting his call go to voice mail, but if she didn’t answer, he’d worry. She didn’t want that. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to sound chipper as she answered. “Hey.”
“Hey.” His deep voice sounded a bit gravelly.
Though he’d only said that one word, Carol had heard the stress. Years ago, when they’d worked together at a children’s hospital, she’d hear that same strain in his voice when one of his patients was losing a battle. Though he was the chief of staff now, no longer working with patients, his job was just as stressful in different ways. Clearly he’d had a bad day.
Instantly, she was able to shift her self-pity into concern for Simon. “You sound tired,” she said.
“Long day. How was yours?” As expected, he deflected. He never wanted to talk about his bad days.
“Not too bad,” she said. “I took a nice long hike this morning and played cards with a few other travelers this afternoon. They have a nice little community area here.”
“I’m glad you’re socializing,” he said. “I worry about that.”
Carol chuckled. “You sound like my mother.”
Simon laughed as well but only for a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday. I got stuck in meetings. By the time I got home, I was worn out.”
Carol started to remind him he didn’t have to call her at all, let alone on a schedule. Nor did he owe her an explanation for not calling. Before the words left her, he continued.
“How was your rafting trip?” he asked.
“I didn’t go,” she confessed.
She was met with silence and was reminded of how thoughtful Harold had been before pointing out what a horrible idea that had been for her to even try. Unlike Harold, Simon knew the reasons why being near water was so traumatic for Carol. When she’d told him that she’d chosen this campground so she could take a trip on the water, he’d tried to be supportive. He’d reminded her how to work through anxiety, how to redirect her thoughts if things became overwhelming, and nicely told her changing her mind was okay.
Simon had never tried to talk her out of making mistakes. He did his best to
be supportive even when he thought she was wrong and then did his best to help her pick up the pieces. Even after all this time, Carol could see the old, comfortable patterns at play. Other than Tobias, Simon was the only person who knew when and how to support her without making her feel incompetent.
“I got there,” she said, knowing he was waiting for more information, “and filled out the waiver, but when the time came time…I chickened out.”
“Chickened out is a harsh way to put it,” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
“I do,” Simon countered, his voice firm despite his obvious exhaustion. “Your trauma blocked your ability to move forward. That’s different than simply being too scared to try something new. You have a very good reason to fear the water.”
She rolled her eyes and smirked. “Don’t get all psychological. Please. You know I hate that.”
“You hating my approach doesn’t mean I’m wrong. In fact, your resistance to my wisdom implies I’m correct.”
Laughing, she turned in the small booth seat and leaned against the wall. “I don’t need you picking my brain apart. I do that all day long and half the night when I can’t sleep.”
“Have you tried meditating before bed?”
Rubbing her thumb over the worry stone, she sighed. “I’m terrible at meditation. I can’t stop thinking long enough to not think.”
“Meditation isn’t about stopping your thoughts—”
“It’s about bringing them back,” she finished. “Trust me, I’ve read the books and listened to the lectures. My friend Alyssa has been meditating for most of her life. She’s tried to help me learn how to quiet my mind, but I just can’t. I’m simply not good at it.”
Rather than argue with her, as she figured he would, he said, “I’m glad you didn’t go rafting.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because there is absolutely no reason why you should put yourself through that. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Everyone knows how strong you are.”