by Marci Bolden
“That’s good, sweetheart,” Ellen said. “You can’t hold on to missing Tobias forever. You’ll never stop feeling this emptiness if you do.”
“He wouldn’t want that for you,” Judith said.
“No, he wouldn’t.” Carol swallowed hard as emotion made her throat tight. “I loved him so much.”
“That will never change,” Ellen said. “But he’s gone. And you aren’t. You gotta keep going.”
“I’m trying,” Carol said. “I feel like I fumble every time I even think about trying.”
“There’s no right way to mourn,” Ellen offered.
“There seem to be a lot of wrong ways, though,” Carol said. Once again, she took in the scenery as she debated her words. “Remember when I told you that I tried to go rafting?”
Ellen scowled. “Yes. That was foolish.”
“I don’t think my intentions were wrong,” Carol said. “I think the approach was.”
“You have a legitimate fear, Carol,” Judith insisted.
“I had a legitimate fear twenty years ago, Mom.” Stopping, she faced her mother. “Now I’m hiding from something that reminds me of things I’d rather forget. I’m hiding. I can’t do that forever. Tobias always tried to convince me that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I wanted to prove to him, and to myself, that he wasn’t wrong for believing that.”
Ellen gently grabbed Carol’s arm. “He wasn’t wrong. You are incredibly strong. You’ve survived so much.”
“I want to try again. Will you guys help me?” Carol asked.
Judith’s jaw dropped. “Help you…”
“Get in the water,” she said, determined to face her fear.
“Oh, Carol,” Judith muttered. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Please,” Carol begged. “I couldn’t do it alone, but maybe if you were there to help me, getting into the water wouldn’t feel so traumatic.”
Ellen dropped her hand and sighed. “I agree with your mother. This could actually cause you to have a major setback. You know that, don’t you?”
“Major is probably an overstatement,” Carol said lightly. If she could overcome her fear of water, she could push through anything and maybe finally set herself onto the road to recovery.
“I don’t think so,” Judith countered. “What does your therapist say?’
“I haven’t told her I want to do this.”
“Well, maybe you should,” Judith snapped. “My God, talking you out of stupid shit is her job.”
Carol gasped, but then she giggled. “Don’t cuss, Mom. That’s Aunt Ellen’s job.”
Judith scowled. “I’ll cuss as much as I want when I think you’re making a mistake.”
Carol gave her aunt the best rendition of puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Tobias was there to push me when I couldn’t take the next step. You know how I am, Aunt Ellen. He’s not here now. Please. All I’m asking for is a little encouragement when I freeze.”
A Judith-worthy sigh left Ellen as she shook her head. “You put yourself in the worst fixes.”
Carol couldn’t deny that, but this time, she was certain this was a fix she had to put herself into. She had to push beyond the anxiety that had plagued her for decades. Harold had stepped in before she could do that in Arizona—which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—but she needed to confront this trauma. “Is that a yes?”
“No,” Judith stated. She widened her eyes at Ellen. “No.”
“If we don’t help her, she’s just going to go by herself,” Ellen said.
Carol smiled at her mom. “She’s not wrong. At some point, I’ll do something really stupid, like climb into an inflatable raft and go over some rapids. Someone stopped me once. There’s no guarantee that will happen again.”
Judith pressed her mouth into a flat line and narrowed her eyes before finally spitting out, “Fine. We’ll help you.”
Carol kissed her mom’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Judith put her arm through Carol’s and tugged until they started walking again. “You can thank me when you have a breakdown and we have you committed.”
Carol laughed. “Well, at least I wouldn’t have to figure out where to settle down.” Pulling her mom to a stop, Carol let her smile fade as she looked into blue eyes that mirrored her own. “I have to do this, Mom. I want to move on with my life, but there are things that won’t let me. I have to face them.”
Judith put her hand to Carol’s face. “I know, but I don’t think this is the way.”
“Well, running hasn’t worked. This can’t be any worse. Can it?”
Carol hated Christmas. She’d managed to avoid celebrating it ever since Katie had died. Last year, the first Christmas she and Tobias should have spent together, she’d told him how sorry she was that she had to work. This year, however, she was working at a company that was closed on Christmas. She and Tobias were sharing an apartment. His family was having a big get-together.
She couldn’t avoid Christmas this year. That realization was slowly killing her.
She wanted to embrace the new life she’d found. Tobias was incredible, his family was everything she’d never had before, but as they walked through the Christmas tree farm, her heart was hollow. Hearing the music that Katie use to sing and seeing kids darting around laughing made her want to curl up in a ball and disappear.
Tobias put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “How are you doing?”
Several answers danced through her mind. They were all lies. She wasn’t okay. She wasn’t fine. She was devastated. “Not good,” she answered honestly because he’d see through anything else.
Stepping in front of her, he leaned in until she tilted her face up at him. “Do you want to leave?”
“You wanted a live tree,” she pointed out.
“I don’t have to have one. Or I can come alone. You can wait in the car.”
She closed her eyes when three kids ran by them, excitedly yelling over one another about the tree they wanted. “She loved Christmas,” Carol whispered.
“I bet she did,” Tobias said gently. “I bet she tore into her presents so fast she never even knew what she got until there wasn’t a wrapped box under the tree.”
A knot formed in Carol’s chest as memories flashed through her mind. She bit her lip so she didn’t cry in the middle of the walkway. She was mildly successful until Tobias pulled her close and embraced her in his big arms. She buried her face in his chest as he held her. He kissed her head several times before releasing her.
“I bet Katie would want the biggest tree here, wouldn’t she?” he asked.
Carol laughed dryly. “Actually, she’d probably want the ugliest tree. She’d want to rescue it and make it pretty. She favored the underdog.”
Tobias pointed to the discounted section of trees that had broken limbs, lopsided trunks, and missing bristles. “Let’s rescue us a tree.”
“No, Tobias,” she said with a shake of her head. Carol knew he wanted a big tree with lush limbs to hang the ornaments they’d bought. As they’d selected the red and white decorations, he’d excitedly talked about how they were going to get the best tree on the lot. She tried to steer him toward the better-looking options, but he was stronger. With one firm tug, he yanked her to his side and headed for the ugly trees. “You don’t have to do this.”
He winked down at her, and the tenderness in his eyes nearly melted her. “Yeah, baby, I do. You said Katie would want an ugly tree. I’m getting her an ugly tree.” He grinned. “I’m getting her the ugliest damn tree I can find.” Brushing Carol’s hair back, his smile faded. “Is this the first Christmas you’ve celebrated since losing her?”
Carol didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. He obviously knew before he’d even asked.
“Being sad is okay, Carol. Hurting is okay. I’m here for that. I’m right here to help you through. Okay?”
“I love you,” she said, but the words barely came out.
“I love you.” He hugged her aga
in. This time, when he turned toward the ugly trees, she didn’t try to stop him.
Within an hour, she stood holding a scrawny blue spruce with mostly naked limbs while Tobias screwed the trunk to the base. Stepping back when the tree was secure, she shook her head at the sickly thing.
“I can’t believe this is our first tree,” she grumbled.
Tobias smiled up at her from the floor. “It’s great. It’s perfect.”
“It’s a mess.”
Pushing himself to his feet, he stepped beside her to admire the evergreen. After a moment, he chuckled, and then the laugh ripped free and he threw his head back. Carol had no choice but to laugh with him.
“Mama’s going to offer to buy us a real tree. Just wait,” Tobias said. “She’s going to take pity on us.”
Carol’s smile dipped as a flash of her parents crossed her mind, but she pushed them away. They’d caused her all the pain she was going to allow. Besides, she had enough misery on her mind thinking how much she missed Katie. She wasn’t going to let her parents take her down even further.
“I saw that,” Tobias commented.
She gazed up at him, lifting a quizzical brow.
“This isn’t the same as having Katie here,” he said, apparently misinterpreting where her mind had gone, “but we’re going to do everything we can to make this a Christmas she would have loved, okay?”
Warmth filled Carol’s heart. “She would have loved you.”
Tobias stood a bit taller. “Yeah?”
Carol nodded. “I would have told her no way we were buying this lousy tree, but here this thing is because you would have caved and spoiled her.”
“Damn straight,” he said, beaming. “I would have bribed that kid every chance I got.”
She smiled, but then she paused. “Do you think…”
“What?”
“We should…” Carol swallowed hard and blinked as her stupid tears welled up again. “Since we can’t buy her presents, can we find a shelter to donate to? She’d like that. She’d want the kids there to have presents too.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell Mama and Uncle Jerry. I bet they’ll want to help.”
“Thank you,” Carol whispered. “The last two Christmases… I did everything I could to ignore them. This feels better. This is hard, but it feels better.”
“You can’t ignore what hurts you, babe. You have to face it.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m here now. I’ll help you do that. I’ll always help you do that.”
Later that afternoon, Carol stood inside the community center pool house with her eyes downcast, staring at her bare feet. She and Lara had spent a morning at a salon while Carol was in St. Louis. She’d had a pedicure and chosen a bright red polish for her toenails. She didn’t usually go with such vibrant colors. Looking at the shade now, she wished she’d gone with burgundy instead. She’d have to make an appointment somewhere while in Florida. Her mom wouldn’t go, but maybe Aunt Ellen would be willing to join her for an hour or so of pampering.
“Are you okay?” Judith asked, distracting Carol from her rambling thoughts.
Looking at her mom, Carol blinked several times. She didn’t know how much time had gone by, but her mother was being incredibly patient. That wasn’t something Carol could say very often. After forcing herself to swallow, she tightened her hold on her mom’s hand and refocused on the reason they were all standing there in a hot, humid, glassed-in room breathing in chemicals.
Staring at a sign on the other side of the pool that warned against diving, Carol worked up the courage and took a step closer to the pool.
Their plan, or as much of one as they’d devised, was to enter through the beach entrance. The gradual ramp, which provided pool accessibility for handicapped residents of the retirement community, was the best way to slowly enter the pool. That way, Carol could take slow, measured steps and stop her forward progress at any time.
Or so they’d decided.
Just looking at the slope where the water gently lapped at the edge made Carol’s heart pound against her rib cage. Her stomach rolled, and bile rose up her throat, making her breath feel like fire every time she exhaled a short, panting burst.
“I should have had a drink first,” Carol managed to say. Though she intended to make a joke, her words came out tense, breathy. Barely audible.
“I can go get the tequila,” Aunt Ellen offered. Even her voice sounded tight. Ellen, who found the humor in any situation, wasn’t laughing now. The tension surrounding the trio was palpable.
“Absolutely not,” Judith stated.
“We have as long as you need, Carol,” Aunt Ellen said. “No need to rush.”
Carol lifted her gaze to the slope where they were headed, one very slow step at a time. “It’s just water.” Her voice quivered, betraying her attempted confidence. “It’s just…water.”
Her abdomen burned hotter. Her throat was so tight, she could hardly swallow. She forced herself to take a deep inhale through her nose, like her therapist had been telling her, and instantly regretted it. The scent of chlorine filled her nose. The harsh aroma made her knees grow weak and her already upset stomach to churn. Her body lurched as she gagged.
“Okay,” Ellen soothed.
Someone ran a hand up and down Carol’s back. She didn’t know who was trying to soothe her, but the attempt was futile. The movement didn’t have a calming effect. Carol’s hyperawareness exacerbated the movement, making the touch feel like a wrecking ball rolling over her spine. She didn’t have the strength to ask whoever was making the effort to stop. She was too focused on the pool.
“This is enough,” Judith said. “Let’s stop now.”
“I’m okay,” Carol insisted.
After pulling her hand free from Carol’s grip, Judith flexed her fingers several times. “The hell you are.”
“I’m going to have to agree with your mom, kiddo,” Aunt Ellen said. “This is too much. Let’s call it a day and try again tomorrow.”
“I can’t keep putting things off until tomorrow,” Carol said. “Tomorrow might not come.”
The other women were silent, and Carol suspected they were casting concerned glances at each other behind her back. Determined to prove to them and to herself that she could do this, Carol took another tentative step toward the pool.
Damn it. Why had she waited so long to try to overcome this? Why hadn’t she let Tobias do this with her? He’d offered numerous times over the years. If he were there, she could look into his face, focus on his voice, and let him gently coax her along.
“I’m going to close my eyes,” Carol said. “You guys…lead the way.”
She disregarded their silence as she let her eyes drift shut. As her mom and aunt helped her take a step forward, Carol pictured the garden Tobias had planted. She pictured how the wide variety of flowers danced in the breeze. Blooms of every color complemented one another to create a picture-perfect scene. He loved to tend to each and every one as if they were each precious to him.
Salvia dorisiana had been his favorite, though. The sage had a sweet scent and bright pink flowers that drew him in like the bees that came every day to gather pollen.
She could hear Tobias’s voice now. The low timbre rolled through her like a distant rumble of thunder.
“Look at you,” he’d say to whichever plant had drawn his attention. “Growing like a weed.” Then he’d chuckle at his own joke.
“You’re not funny,” Carol had told him every time he’d make the pun, which was far too often.
“They think I am,” he’d say. Then he’d lean in and smell a bud. “Don’t you?”
Carol gasped when water splashed against her toes. She jolted and, once again, started to pant as her lungs restricted. Panic was taking hold. Fear was overcoming her. Just like the water could overcome her…surround her, pull her in, take her under…
A memory flashed through her mind in jumbled bits.
John. Katie. Screaming. Crying.
“Sl
ow down,” Ellen said with a firm but gentle tone. “You don’t want to hyperventilate.”
Carol focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. She was almost calm when a different voice crept into her mind.
“Mama,” Katie called from somewhere in Carol’s memory. “Mama, lookit. See what I can do?”
A sob worked up Carol’s throat and echoed through the pool house.
“That’s far enough,” Judith said, pulling Carol’s mind to the present.
Carol shook her head. “No.” Forcing herself to keep going, she slid one foot forward and then the other, until water lapped at her ankles.
When she and John were sprinkling Katie’s ashes in the Pacific Ocean, he’d put his hands to her face and forced her to focus on his eyes as he coaxed her forward. Never in her life did Carol think she’d pull a memory of her ex-husband to the surface to soothe her, but she did now.
She pictured his blue eyes as he’d stared into hers.
“I’m right here with you,” John had said as he’d urged her deeper into the water. “You can do this.”
Before she knew it, the water was splashing at her knees. With a few more tentative steps, the water was at her thighs and then her hips.
This was it. This was the deepest she’d been in the water for over twenty years. Swallowing hard, she tried to settle the elephants stampeding around her stomach. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. Fear screamed at her to stop, to turn around.
She took another step. Then another.
When the water reached her waist, she forced her eyes open. She gazed through the clear water at her feet with the bright red tips. Red like…rain boots.
Squeezing her mom’s hand, Carol clung to her, hoping to stop the memories from coming back. Though she was wearing the waterproof shorts she’d bought to go rafting because she didn’t own a swimsuit, she saw herself dressed in Scooby Doo scrubs. Though she was barefoot with bright red toenails, she saw an old pair of tennis shoes.
She couldn’t stop the racking sobs that hit her. They hit her hard, stealing the oxygen from her lungs, breaking her heart as her trauma resurfaced.