Same Time Next Summer

by Holly Jacobs

  “It wasn’t that…” She wanted to say it wasn’t that I didn’t love you, but settled for “…we didn’t care. It’s that we’re young, and far apart, well, it can’t work. Ever.”

  “I came to the same conclusion,” he said sadly.

  “And there’s no way to recapture what we had last year.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “But Caro, I don’t want that to spoil what you’ve always been to me. A lifetime of friendship has to mean more than…”

  Taking pity on him, she supplied, “A summer fling?”

  “That makes it seem less than it was.” There was censure in his voice.

  “I know that. I didn’t mean to be flippant.” But she was too old to tell herself fairytales. “What if we simply say, we were friends who tried to be something more and discovered that we’re better off as friends?”

  “Can we be friends again?” he asked. “I’ve missed you.”

  She smiled and extended her hand. “Yes.”

  “Friends then.”

  They shook hands, and for a moment, she wanted to kiss him, to lean in and kiss him the way she’d learned to, but it passed and she tucked away the girlhood crush.

  This was Stephan. Her summer friend, one of her best friends ever. That’s all he’d ever be.

  “So, when do you have to go back to your poky internship?” she asked, forcing a smile.

  “I’ve got to leave Sunday afternoon.”

  “Well, that leaves tonight and tomorrow. You know my parents don’t do seafood, so there’s been no one to go to Ollie’s with me.”

  “Was that an invitation?” he asked.

  This time there was no forcing, her grin came easily. “No, that was a very broad hint that you’re supposed to invite me to Ollie’s for fish and chips.”

  “I suppose that could be arranged.”

  She waited, watching him. “So?”

  “Oh, this is where I invite you,” he said, catching on. “Hey, Carolyn, I was wondering if you would like to go to Ollie’s for fish and chips?”

  “As long as you understand this is just a platonic friendship, Foster. No making out.” She shook a finger at him. “I know I’m hard to resist, but you’re simply going to have to try.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Now, don’t beg, Foster,” she mock-scolded. “It’s not very manly.”

  They laughed and Carolyn realized that if they could tease each other, then everything was all right. And something that had felt hollow without Stephan’s friendship filled back up. It was fine.

  “Yeah, as if I’d beg.”

  “Well, you’ll be begging me at dinner. You know I can out hush puppy you.”

  “Never.”

  They walked along the path toward the cottages, laughing, teasing…friends.

  “LONG DISTANCE…” CAROLYN murmured, the memory of that summer fling, that was possibly so much more than either of them had ever really admitted. “I though we’d learned our lesson.”

  “Caro, that was then, this is now. It won’t be forever. We can make it work until things settle down and then we’ll figure out what to do. Right now, I think Emma has to be the priority for both of us. Everything else, even deciding where we stand, can wait.”

  “Stephan, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship. I almost lost you once—”

  “There was never any chance you were going to lose my friendship. Our separation isn’t forever. We’ll wait and see where we are at in August. I’ll meet you at the cottages then and we’ll see if what we felt here was real.” He paused. “Maybe I’m speaking out of turn. I should have said, we’ll see if what I feel—”

  “You’re not. Me, too.”

  “Then we’ll see if what we feel is real, or if we were simply two people who mistook their friendship as something more because of the circumstances.”

  She nodded. But in her heart, Carolyn knew what she was feeling for Stephan was real, at least on her part. It wasn’t just that Stephan had been there when she and Emma had needed him most, it was simply that he was Stephan, and even after that summer fling, a part of her heart had still clung to him, to the memory of that short time.

  “So we wait until August?”

  “We’ll call, I’ll try and visit—we’ll do whatever we have to in order to stay connected. If it’s not real, if these are only phantom emotions brought on by the current situation, then we’ll admit it and just stay friends.”

  “You’re sure we can do it?”

  “Caro, I don’t think we’ll have to worry this time. I believe we can make it.” He kissed her.

  Carolyn couldn’t help but worry that this was their last kiss, that when they left the hospital, everything would change. That no matter what they did, how hard they tried, they wouldn’t be able to hold on.

  So she savored the feel of him. His lips on hers, his arms wrapped so familiarly around her. The taste of him. The smell of him. She tried to memorize it all. The other memory she’d tucked away, the image of Stephan leaning over Emma’s bed, holding her hand, flitted across her mind.

  No matter what, she’d remember.

  Carolyn had always been afraid of change, and this time was no different. But she knew there was nothing else for it. They couldn’t stay stationary.

  Emma needed therapy, and Stephan had a life to resume…a life that didn’t include her. Maybe someday it would include her. That’s what they were talking about. But right now, things had to change. She’d have to find her way to a new normal outside the cocoon of this hospital.

  The kiss lingered, but finally ended. Carolyn pulled away with regret.

  “August then,” Stephan said.

  Carolyn nodded.

  They’d know in four months just where they stood.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  IN THE HOSPITAL, every day had possessed an underlying current of uncertainty sandwiched between periods of unremitting monotony.

  Would this be the day Emma began to wake up?

  Or would it be the tipping-point day—the day Emma sank so deeply into her coma that nothing Carolyn could do would reverse things.

  All the not knowing was masked by the endless routine of Emma’s care. Physical therapy, feedings, baths, reading to her, talking to her…and never any response.

  Since Emma had come to Haven Rehabilitation Hospital, every day was different. Occupational therapy, physical therapy, speech therapy. And between all the activity there was a bubble of awareness that Emma was gradually improving. Each day, she climbed a little further out of the hole that had been her coma, climbing back to the girl she’d once been.

  That knowledge made all the pain and frustration worth it. Watching Emma progress from just being able to respond to commands, to actually interacting was inspiring. So was watching her work through her aphasia, the disorder that made communication so hard. Her speech center was damaged, and words were hesitant at best, garbled and confused at worst. Slowly, Emma’s speech became clearer, her intent often clearer, as well.

  It wasn’t all easy. There were plenty of setbacks. Emma had no patience. She didn’t understand how much progress she’d already made, all she knew was what she couldn’t do. Tantrums were a daily occurrence. Carolyn became adept at heading them off, and when she couldn’t, she learned to soothe Emma out of them.

  Though watching Emma go through such anger wasn’t pretty, Carolyn tried to remind herself that each outburst was a sign that Emma was indeed overcoming the hurdles in her path. And most of the time it helped.

  The staff at the rehabilitation hospital was superb. From the therapists to the nurses and aides to the doctors, Emma’s schedule was a group effort, and shifted as she progressed. Her team met weekly, which gave everyone, including Carolyn, a chance to connect and make sure that each of Emma’s therapies were complementing the rest, and to confirm that everyone was on the same page.

  Carolyn had found a new routine. She started each morning at Haven, helping Emma dress and eat breakfas
t. Then she ran to the bookstore, trying to cram a day’s worth of work into five or six hours. Then it was back to the hospital where she joined Emma at whatever therapy she was working on, helped her with dinner and her bath, then she spent time with her—reading, playing, just being with her.

  After tucking her daughter into bed, Carolyn dragged herself home, exhausted to the core. But every night at ten, the exhaustion momentarily lifted as the phone rang and Stephan spoke from the other end.

  Over the months they’d been separated, Stephan had come to Cleveland twice, but the nightly conversations were Carolyn’s lifeline, all that kept her going some days.

  “Hey, Elf,” was Stephan’s standard greeting, his attempt to elicit a chuckle.

  “Hey. You know what I realized?”

  “That I miss you?” he asked. She could almost hear his smile over the phone line.

  She laughed and sank back onto the pillow that was just where she’d slept on it the night before. Her bed, which once upon a time had been made every day, was now lucky to get clean sheets. “I realized it’s June. We’ll be in Heritage Bay month after next. I clung to that thought all day.”

  “Long day?”

  She could hear the concern in his voice, and tried to gloss over it. “It was. But I’m feeling better now. I can’t believe summer started today. It seems as if I lost most of winter and all of spring.”

  “They’ll come back around next year, and they’ll be even sweeter because Emma will be home.”

  She’d pictured that moment so often in her mind. “I’m holding on to that thought.”

  “So, tell me about your day, Emma’s day,” Stephan asked.

  Just like all the other nights that he’d called, she outlined Emma’s progress, and finished with, “She asked about you. We’re still on for this weekend, right? It seems like forever since you were here in May.”

  “That’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Her heart sank, knowing, from his tone, the talk wouldn’t be a good one.

  “Something came up at work and I’m not going to make it. I’m sorry.”

  Carolyn swallowed her disappointment. “Oh?”

  “I’d be there if I could. You’ll explain to Emma?”

  “Sure.” Resentment flared. Carolyn was an old hand at explaining absences to Emma. It’s one of the reasons why it hadn’t worked out between her and Ross. And it was a skill she hadn’t thought she’d use for Stephan’s benefit. “I’ll tell her.”

  “I’d be there if I could. I took all that time off in February and March, and I’m taking more time in August, I couldn’t say no.” She could hear him asking her to understand. “This is important.”

  She wanted to ask, “More important than me?” even though she knew it was unfair.

  She’d asked Ross that question once.

  1992

  CAROLYN ENTERED HER OH-SO tasteful Brecksville living room. Ross had insisted they hire someone to professionally decorate the house. She’d pointed out she’d managed to turn their apartment into a home without professional help, and Ross reassured her that though the apartment had been lovely, this house deserved something more. And while Carolyn had worked with the decorator, she hated this room. It was as formal as a crisply pressed tux. There was no personal connection to her, Ross or Emma anywhere.

  Ross kept walking through the room, toward the front door. Carolyn followed on his heels. “Ross, you promised us the whole weekend. Emma planned it all out. First the zoo and lunch there, then—”

  “This is an important deal, Carolyn.”

  “More important than Emma and me?”

  She waited for him to reassure her. She needed to hear him say that nothing was more important than his family. She waited, but wasn’t surprised when instead, he said, “If I don’t have a job, we can’t pay our bills. That’s what’s important.”

  “If we didn’t live in this mausoleum of a house, we wouldn’t have nearly so many bills to pay.” She’d fought against buying this house, fought against the gadgets and the new cars, but Ross had insisted that image was an important part of the business world.

  “Don’t you want the best for our daughter?” He gave her a look that once would have had her questioning herself, wondering if he was right.

  But today, she didn’t doubt her convictions as she answered softly, “Yes, Ross, I do want what’s best for Emma, but I don’t believe that a ritzy address is what’s best for her. Time with you is.”

  He raked fingers through his hair, looking exasperated and annoyed. “Carolyn, I’m tired of this fight.”

  “I am, too.”

  She watched as he walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him with such force that one of the pictures, chosen by the decorator, fell to the floor and smashed.

  Carolyn bent down to pick up the pieces, and began to wish that picking up the pieces of her marriage was just as easy.

  CAROLYN HADN’T LIKED ROSS’S answer—work mattered more than her, more than Emma.

  She didn’t think Stephan’s answer would be the same as Ross’s, but she didn’t want to risk it, so she didn’t ask, she simply said, “I’ll explain why you can’t be here to Emma.”

  “Carolyn, I’m sorry.”

  Stephan had taken months off work to be here in Cleveland with her and Emma when they’d needed him. He was taking time off to be with them in August. He was nothing like Ross.

  She knew that.

  At least she knew that most of the time. But every now and then she wondered if all men put work ahead of family, ahead of anything.

  She was trying to reassure herself as much as she tried to reassure him as she said, “You’ve put your life and your job on hold for us for months. You need to get work done. Plus, my mom said she and Dad were going to come for a visit. They haven’t seen us since Emma moved into the rehab center.”

  “I’ll try and get there in a few weeks then. And I’ll still call you every night.”

  “Sure. It will be fine.”

  There was a silence on the phone. It was rare that they ran out of things to say to each other. And when they did, the silence was generally comfortable.

  Tonight, it suddenly felt awkward. “Well, I’d better let you go. It’s late.”

  “It is.” He was quiet a moment, then asked, “We’re okay?”

  “We’re fine,” she told him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Night, Caro.”

  “Night, Stephan.”

  She hung up the phone and for the first time, her nightly talk to Stephan didn’t leave her feeling better.

  STEPHAN HUNG UP THE PHONE, his heart heavy. He’d had the option of going to Cleveland. He’d decided against it because he had taken so much time off and everyone at the firm had worked hard to cover for him, but the other side of it was, he’d cancelled the trip because maybe everyone was right, maybe he wasn’t being fair to Carolyn.

  His father and mother, who’d always been crazy about Carolyn had each warned him that she wasn’t thinking clearly then. They emphasized that he should tread slowly and give her time.

  Frank didn’t weigh in at all. He’d built a life for himself in Seattle and had very little to say about the family.

  It was George, normally the least serious Foster, who had really shaken Stephan up when he’d asked, “Are you sure what you’re both feeling is real, or just a friendship that went through a trauma together and is trying to convince itself it’s something more?”

  Stephan had denied it.

  He believed that it was something more and that it would survive the separation.

  He was making plans for their future, based on that belief.

  But maybe giving them both a bit of distance, making sure Carolyn sorted out her feelings…well, it couldn’t hurt. He wanted what they had to be the real deal. He wanted it to last.

  He wanted to build a life with Carolyn and Emma.

  He wanted it all.

  Tonight, he’d sensed a distance
between them that hadn’t been there before. He needed her to know that he was still in this. He redialed Carolyn’s number.

  Normally, she picked up immediately, but this time, the phone rang three times before she answered. “Hello?”

  “Caro, when we get to Heritage Bay, go out with me. A fancy dinner, wine…the whole thing. Just you and me.”

  “You called me back to ask me out?” He could hear her confusion, and maybe…a little bit of pleasure. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. “Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

  Things felt better, back to normal. He sighed. “Good. I want you to think about us these next few weeks. I want you to take time and make sure what you’re feeling for me is real.”

  “While you do the same?”

  “Caro, I know what I’m feeling, but I don’t want to rush you into something that you might regret later. Promise me you’ll think about it, and when I come up, I’ll ask you again on that date. If you say yes, then I’ll know. If you say no, then we’ll go back to being friends.”

  “Stephan, you don’t have to go all noble. I know my own mind. I—”

  “No,” he said. “Not until August. You’ve got July to really think about it. No decisions until August.”

  “Fine. I’m not going to change my mind. This isn’t some aberration, but I’ll wait and I’ll think. No decisions until August.”

  “Night, Caro.”

  “Night, Stephan.”

  He hung up and mentally counted off the days until Heritage Bay. It was already June. The end of June, actually. He’d continue with his plans for the future, take this time for work and see Carolyn again in August. Then they’d know.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CAROLYN DID ONE LAST sweeping survey of the living room. With her work schedule and Emma, there hadn’t been any time for housekeeping. But since she hadn’t been home to do more than sleep, it wasn’t that bad, and the last two hours had taken care of it.