by Holly Jacobs
Once it became clear that divorce was where their marriage was heading, they’d seen a lawyer together and agreed to sell their big house in Brecksville, and split the proceeds. She’d taken her share and bought this house outright. With no mortgage payments and the much lower tax base, she was able to live comfortably off the income the bookstore generated.
Emma would finish out the year at her old school, but next year, she’d go to the one about a half mile from the house. The proximity to the school had been one of the reasons Carolyn had loved the little house.
Today was the first day Ross had seen it, and from his expression he wasn’t overly impressed. Not that she expected him to be. Ross had told her throughout their marriage that he worked so much to be able to afford to keep her in the Brecksville home. It was a beautiful house, expensive and huge. Much more house than the three of them needed. But Ross had loved the prestigious address.
Carolyn had tried to tell him that an address couldn’t make up for Emma never seeing him, but he hadn’t listened. Melody, who worked in the bookstore, had come over and commented about Carolyn’s change of address, that if Brecksville was the monopoly space between the green properties and the dark blues, then Carolyn’s new house in Parma was somewhere between the jail and free space.
Carolyn loved the analogy. Living between the jail and free space was all right with her. More than all right, actually.
She set the roller in the paint tray and surveyed the now cream-colored walls in the living room. The bright, sunny walls matched her mood.
It wasn’t just finishing the painting that thrilled her. Ross had finally agreed to take Emma for the day. Emma had been overjoyed, looking forward to her time with her father all week. Carolyn had been afraid that Ross would disappoint their daughter again, but he’d shown up on time, much to Emma’s delight.
Carolyn glanced at her watch. She could probably finish cleaning up the living room and get a bath before they got back.
She’d put the swing up some other, less wintery day.
She gathered up her paint-roller and tray and had started toward the basement utility room to wash up when the doorbell rang. She set the paint stuff down and went to answer it.
She glanced at her watch again and sighed. Ross was early. She tamped down her annoyance as thoughts of a long, hot bubble bath vanished.
She threw the door open. “Em, you and your father don’t have to knock—” But the sentence died right there and then as she saw not Ross and Emma, but a uniformed officer at her door, she gasped.
“Mrs. Adams?”
“Ms. Kendal. I’m using my maiden name,” she told him, though she wasn’t sure why. “Yes, I was Mrs. Adams, but we’re divorced. Come in, officer.”
The young, uniformed man kicked off the snow that clung to his boots and stepped into the tiny foyer. Carolyn closed the door and tried to ignore the sense of panic that was building deep in her chest.
“It’s cold out,” she stalled, not wanting to hear what the policeman had to say.
“Your husband—your ex,” he corrected himself, “is Ross Adams, and you have a daughter?”
She nodded mutely. She glanced helplessly at the cream-colored walls that moments ago had made her so content.
“Ms. Kendal, there’s been an accident.”
In the movies, people’s legs would sag and they’d start to slump or sway, as if the world had suddenly spun off its axis when officers used those words. Carolyn simply felt frozen and numb as she stood, rooted to the spot, waiting for the officer to finish.
“Your ex is bumped and bruised, but the truck hit your daughter’s side, and she’s at the hospital being worked on—”
Worked on.
Hospital.
She processed the words. What the officer was saying was that Emma was injured more than Ross. The thought of Emma hurt was enough to shake off her lassitude. “How badly?”
“Ma’am, I don’t have that information. They just asked me to inform you.”
She nodded. “What hospital?”
Rather than answer, the officer asked, “Did you need to change? While you do that, maybe I could go get a neighbor who could drive you?”
Why was he bothering with stupid questions? Carolyn didn’t care about neighbors or her paint-spattered clothes, she just needed to be with Emma. “We’re new to the neighborhood, so there’s no one I can ask. I can drive myself.”
Where were her keys?
The young officer cocked his head to one side, his expression a mixture of pity and compassion. “Ma’am, why don’t you get your coat and let me drive you?”
She thought about arguing, but in the end, she didn’t care how she got there, she just needed to get there. “Thank you.”
She took her coat, and tucked her house keys and wallet in the pocket. “I’m ready.”
She shut the door, her paintbrushes forgotten.
The ride took longer than it should have. She begged the officer for more information, but he just kept repeating that he didn’t know anything else. She wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, or simply didn’t want to give her any worse news.
After what seemed like hours, they pulled up in front of the emergency-room doors. Two ambulances stood in the bay and she couldn’t help but wonder if one of them had transported Emma.
“Thank you,” Carolyn managed, even as she’d opened her door and sprinted inside.
She ran straight to the admissions desk, and pushed in front of a number of people. “My daughter’s here. She was in an accident. Emma Adams.”
“Carolyn,” Ross called before the nurse could reply.
Without even a thank-you, she hurried to his side. He was sporting a huge bandage on his forehead, and his right arm was in a sling.
“Emma?” she asked.
“She’s in surgery. They said something about relieving pressure on her brain.”
“Oh.” But with that, the weakness did spread through her body, and she held herself together long enough to get to a chair. “Her brain.”
That was serious. She’s watched ER and other medical shows. Pressure on the brain…
“The doctor said he’d be out as soon as they were done to give us an update.” Ross sat down next to her and stared into space for a few minutes, then his shoulders began to shake, heaving as he broke down and started to cry in earnest. Great, wracking sobs. “It’s my fault. Oh, God, Carolyn, I’m so sorry. The car came out of nowhere, and I couldn’t get out of the way. It’s my fault.”
She tried to soothe him, tried to reassure him that it wasn’t. She was sure it wasn’t because she knew who was to blame.
She was.
THE MEMORY OF THAT afternoon came flooding back as Ross stood up.
Just a short time ago, she’d been here with Stephan, planning a life with him, and now she was here with Ross, who was feeling so guilty over something that wasn’t his fault, something that he couldn’t have prevented. She knew that’s what his wanting to get back together again was…guilt. As if he thought rekindling their relationship, rebuilding Emma’s family, would somehow even things out, and make it all right again.
As someone who’d gone through it herself, she could understand his feelings, but she couldn’t see trying to rekindle something that wasn’t even smoldering—at best—because of it.
“Ross, the accident wasn’t your fault,” she repeated, all these months later.
“It’s not just that, it’s all the time I didn’t spend with Emma. I told myself that there was always tomorrow. Now I know that I can’t take that for granted.” He reached for her hand, but Carolyn pulled hers away.
“And the fact that I didn’t listen to you was my fault. I almost lost her, and I discovered that she meant the world to me. Despite that, in the hospital, it was easier to walk away than to hope. But you never stopped believing. And again, it’s my fault that I deserted her a second time.”
Carolyn looked down the moonlit beach at Spencer’s Rock. She was glad the
y hadn’t walked there. It was hers…hers and Stephan’s. She glanced at Ross, so sincere as he asked for another chance. If it weren’t for Stephan, she’d be tempted to say yes.
“Ross, you’re here for Emma now, she knows that. That’s what matters. Us getting back together—you and me trying to pretend we’re a couple again—it won’t make you a better father. Spending time with our daughter, being a part of her life will, and you’re already doing that.”
“Carolyn, the fact that our marriage fell apart, that was my fault, too. I see that now. You tried to tell me what you and Emma needed, what I was missing. I blew it.”
Carolyn looked out at the great expanse of water, the moon shining above, reflected on it. Most of the time, being here helped her figure things out. But tonight, that clarity was lacking. She wasn’t sure what to say to her ex to help him, but she tried. “Ross, as much as I’d like to pin the blame squarely on you, I can’t. I don’t think we ever had what it takes. I loved you. I still do. You’ve been a part of my life for a lot of years, and there are so many things we’ve shared, memories we have in common. And then there’s Emma. It’s a bond. What I feel for you is…well, it’s a friendly sort of love. A love born out of that sense of familiarity. You’re Emma’s father. That’s not going to change. But I don’t love you they way a wife should.”
“Maybe what we have now, which is better than it ever was when we were married, maybe it could grow into something more, if we both work at it this time? I want a chance to be there for Emma…and for you. I want a chance to build a family, the kind we should have had, could have had all along, if I hadn’t been so foolish. We could go to marriage counseling. Family counseling, even. With everything Emma’s been through, and will have to go through, talking to someone might help.”
Carolyn desperately tried to find the words, “Ross—”
He interrupted. “Don’t tell me no yet. Tell me you’ll think about it. I can’t say you owe me, because you don’t owe me anything. But I will ask you to consider it.”
She stared at the moon, wishing it would work its magic and steady her, but her emotions remained in a jumble. Her love for Stephan, her shared past with Ross. The daughter she and Ross shared. The old sense of guilt that she hadn’t been able to make their marriage survive. And Stephan, standing by her side in the hospital, uprooting his life to be with her.
It always came back to Stephan. She shook her head. “Ross, there’s really no point.”
“But I need to know that you didn’t just say no out of some knee-jerk reaction. Think about what our marriage would have been like if I’d been half as committed as you. That’s what we could have now. No more putting my job first. It would be you and Emma, always.”
“But I don’t love you anymore.” It sounded bare and brutal to her own ears.
Ross winced. “You loved me once, you could learn to love me again.”
“Ross—”
He shook his head. “Promise me you’ll think about what I’ve said, then talk to me tomorrow.”
“I can think about it, but, Ross, my answer’s not going to change.”
“Like I said, you don’t owe me anything, but maybe you owe it to Emma to at least consider it. She’d love to have us back together.” He took her hand in his. “Please, just…consider it overnight.”
What could that hurt? If her thinking about it until morning made some sort of closure easier for Ross, she could do it. She nodded. “If I give it tonight, you’ll drop it? At breakfast, I’ll tell you no and you’ll just leave it at that?”
“Scout’s honor.” He paused. “Think about what we could have, Carolyn, and what it could mean to Emma. You’ve always said you’d do anything for her.”
That last sentence was like an ice pick, stabbing at her. Was this something she should do? Set aside her own happiness for Emma’s sake?
Moments before she’d felt so certain, but now an inkling of doubt crept in.
“Let’s head in.”
They moved in silence, all the words they’d wanted to say used up. Carolyn stumbled toward the cottage door, and Ross caught her hand and kept her from falling.
He didn’t release, but continued to steady her, as they entered the cottage.
Tomorrow, she’d tell him no. And that would be that. She’d be free and clear to start her life with Stephan.
Despite the difficult circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel that small bubble of anticipation as she thought about the life she and Stephan could, and would, build together. But now, it was accompanied by a trace of worry. Maybe she did owe it to Emma to try again with Ross?
She was a total wreck in no time.
Ross said, “I’d best go to the hotel,” but in such a way that she knew he was blatantly hinting for an invite to spend the night.
“On the couch, and it’s a one-time deal. Tomorrow, I’ll give you your answer, you can spend the day with Em, then you’re off, back to your life in Cleveland.”
“When did you become so bossy?” he asked with a grin.
She couldn’t quite manage to smile at him in return. “I was always bossy,” she said sadly, “but you were at work too often to notice.”
The smile faded. “Ouch. Direct hit.”
“Sorry. That was cruel.”
She knew why she’d been mean—he’d struck a nerve and ruined her momentary happiness. She resented that.
He nodded as she made up the couch.
She went to Emma’s room, just to check on her daughter. She opened the door a crack. It was cool. She could feel the lake breeze coming in the window. The small nightlight illuminated the room well enough for her to see Emma snuggled under the covers.
Just consider it, Ross had asked.
What would her life be like if she took Ross back? Emma would be happy, at least at first. What little girl wouldn’t be thrilled to have her parents back together? But after a while, when it became clear to Emma that Carolyn wasn’t happy, she was pretty sure her daughter would feel it and it would impact her.
And how could Carolyn be happy without Stephan? Love wasn’t something that would just fade away if she ignored it.
She’d give Ross his answer in the morning, then she and Stephan would begin planning their life together.
STEPHAN HAD WATCHED Carolyn and Ross.
It wasn’t that he was spying, he assured himself. Not really.
Okay, so maybe he’d seen Ross and Carolyn on the porch together, talking so earnestly.
He wondered if she’d take him to Spencer’s Rock, and Stephan felt an unaccustomed stab of jealousy. He hated the thought of Carolyn sharing the rock—the site of so many of their moments together—with anyone else. Especially Ross.
When they came back into view, they weren’t talking any longer, but walking side by side.
He saw Carolyn stumble, and Ross reach out and grab her hand to steady her. Ross didn’t release it, and Carolyn didn’t pull it away. They continued into the cottage, hand-in-hand.
Stephan wanted to call Carolyn, wanted to ask what Ross had wanted. What they’d said. If they’d gone to Spencer’s Rock.
He wanted to storm over there and tell Ross to go, that he was intruding.
But Ross wasn’t intruding. Ross was Emma’s father. That created a bond between him and Carolyn, a permanent one. It couldn’t be written away as their marriage had been. No judge could sign a paper and dissolve what they shared.
Stephan would always be the outsider.
They were Emma’s parents.
He was just Emma’s godfather, her uncle Stephan.
He had thought over every aspect of a life with Carolyn. Her parents’ objections. Disappointing his father by leaving the firm. Coping with Emma’s ongoing therapies. Relocating to Cleveland and starting his career over.
Yet it turned out, there were things he really hadn’t considered. Ross, Carolyn and their daughter’s situation wasn’t the same as his and Ardith’s. They’d never actually gotten to the wedding, and there had
n’t been any children. When they separated, they’d gone their own ways. He hadn’t seen her in years, and if he moved to Cleveland, the chances of their paths crossing in the future were slim to nil.
It wasn’t the same with Carolyn and Ross.
Stephan wasn’t afraid that Carolyn still loved Ross.
Carolyn had said she loved him. And he trusted in that love.
At least most of him did.
There was a small part that noticed Ross’s car still in the drive. That same small part saw Carolyn’s bedroom light go on, then a few minutes later, go off. He could imagine Ross, sleeping on the couch. It would be like Carolyn to offer it to him. He knew that’s where Ross was spending the night. But still, he hated the thought of Ross in the house, leaving him over here.
Still feeling unsettled, he went into the living room of his parents’ cottage.
George was sitting on the shabby, lumpy couch that had always been across from the fireplace. He looked up as Stephan entered the room. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
“That obvious?” Stephan sat in the recliner and stared at the small fire in the round fieldstone fireplace that looked so solid, so permanent. That’s what he wanted, something solid and permanent with Carolyn and Emma.
He didn’t say any of that to his brother. “Nothing’s wrong.”
George just laughed. “Be glad mom’s already in bed. There’s no way she’d accept that answer. She’d push and prod until you spilled.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
George shrugged. “Let me just say, for the record, I’m glad I never fell for Carolyn Kendal. She’s always been high-maintenance.”
“High-maintenance?” Stephan shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, but even if she was, she’d be worth whatever it took.”
“I’ll confess, I’ve never met a woman who’s worth the wringer that Carolyn puts you through on a regular basis. The old man was telling me about all the time you took off this winter to be with her and the kid.”
“Emma. Her kid has a name, it’s Emma.”
George’s flippant facade dropped and his concern was evident as he asked, “How is she? Emma?”