by Holly Jacobs
Emma’s brain injury had left her with a condition akin to dyslexia. Interpreting the words on the page was like reading a code. There was no instant recognition. She had to analyze each word.
“You’re so much better, sweetie.”
“But I’m not the same as I was.”
“Em, I’m not the same woman I was before your accident. Everyone changes, it’s a part of life. We don’t have to like it. Most of the time, I don’t. But we’re stuck with it. The thing I remember about your changes is that you’re here. You’re talking to me, getting mad at me, laughing at me and with me. That’s all that matters.”
“Though you could do with more laughing and less mad?” Emma parroted the phrase Carolyn had used so many times.
She laughed.
Emma smiled. “Okay, I’ll do it…I’ll go golfing with Dad. He never knows what to do with me anyway.”
Ross tried. Really tried with Emma. He came to the house when he said he would, he included her in his new family’s life. His new wife was good to Emma, despite having a child from her previous marriage, and a new son with Ross. “Emma.”
“Dad’ll be here soon. I need to get ready. You and Uncle Stephan still going to the cottage for the weekend?”
Carolyn tried to find some enthusiasm. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with Stephan, but it had been a long day. She’d been stripping books, which never put her in a good mood. She always put it off as long as possible, but eventually old stock had to be sent back to the publishers to allow room for newer books.
Now, to top it off, she’d dealt with Emma’s funk.
All she wanted to do was pamper herself with a bubble bath and a good book. Instead, she needed to get ready or else Stephan would be disappointed.
“Yes, we’re still heading to the cottage for the weekend. Do you want to help me get ready, after you’ve packed for your dad’s? I’ll grab a shower and you can help with my hair.”
“Sure.” Emma paused and added, “Thanks, Mom.”
“I wish I could change things, make them easier, but even when I can’t, I’m always willing to listen.”
She wished Stephan would listen. She’d listened to his point of view, but worried there wasn’t any middle ground with this particular fight.
“YOU WERE QUIET ON the ride up,” Stephan said as they sat at a back table in their favorite Port Clinton restaurant. Monica’s overlooked the lake and served the most delicious food. Because it was much quieter in May, before the summer hordes appeared, they’d managed to snag a table by the windows. That added to the romantic mood he’d hoped for.
Romance seemed to be the last thing on Carolyn’s mind these days.
She took a long sip of her wine. “I had a call from Emma’s counselor. They think she might be ready for mainstreaming. She came home in a bad mood, so I didn’t get into it with her. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, then disappoint her. We’re having another meeting next week.”
“If she does move into all regular classes?”
“They’d still provide support, but she’d be with her class all day.”
“That’s great.”
Next she told him about the basketball team.
“It’s a tough break, but she’ll get through it. She’s strong…like her mom.”
Carolyn rolled her eyes. “I’m not strong.”
He didn’t argue, but he knew differently. Carolyn was one of the strongest women he’d ever known. Stubborn, too. He didn’t voice that. Instead, he asked, “So, what else?”
“We stacked and stripped a million books at the store. Then I had a TBIS committee meeting. We’re putting together the first comprehensive list of statewide resources for the members.”
The autumn after Emma sustained her injury, Carolyn had gone to a traumatic brain injury support meeting. Stephan had been glad for it. He knew that she hadn’t gotten just information and support, but had found a way to do something positive, as if she was making a difference.
“The statistics alone are staggering. Over a million people in the States sustain a TBI and—”
He knew how this went. Carolyn would now launch into an extended description of the stats and TBIS goals as a way of avoiding the issue. So he interrupted. “Caro, I’ve heard this, and while I’m always willing to listen and help out where I can, tonight, I’d like it to be about us.”
She frowned. “I thought sharing our day was part of what made us us.”
“You know why we’re here. We need to talk.” He’d practiced the words, laid out everything he was going to say with the precision he’d use to lay out a court case. He was ready. But as he looked at the worry in Carolyn’s eyes, he wasn’t so sure. They’d had versions of this conversation before, and they had never gone well.
“About?” she asked slowly, suspiciously.
“The baby.”
“It’s time to go.” She stood, her half-eaten dinner forgotten.
“Caro, you haven’t finished. Sit down.”
“Oh, I’ve finished. I told you last time we had this conversation that I was finished. You chose to ignore me.” She started toward the restaurant door.
As he sprang to his feet and dug in his pocket for his wallet, his finger brushed against the stone she’d given him five years ago. The momentary contact reminded him of that night, when they’d been so in love, so happy.
“Caro—” he called, but she was already across the restaurant. Rather than make a scene, he opened his wallet, left enough on the table to cover the bill, and hurried after her.
He had the keys, so she couldn’t get far. And she didn’t even try. She was waiting by the car. “I love you, Stephan, but I can’t do it.”
“Why? You’ve never given me a good reason. You can quit your job, which would give you more time. Or, I’ll cut back on mine. One way or another, we’d make that work. Hell, we can hire someone, if that’s what you want. Things at the firm are going so well.”
“Stephan…” She didn’t say anything more than his name. That’s how it went. He’d bring up having more children, and she’d say no, then clam up, refusing to talk about it.
“You say you don’t want another child, but I’ve watched your expression when we’re near a baby. There’s such raw longing there. So why?” He reached for her.
Carolyn pulled back. “I can barely handle Emma’s needs. She’s still got weekly therapy sessions, and all the calls to the school. Today’s a prime example. If they mainstream her, then there will be more meetings, more calls. And what about the bookstore? I love the people I work with, I love the customers. I love the books. I’ve worked hard to make it a success. And there’s TBIS. The work I’m part of there is important. And us. There’s us, Stephan. We need time. Do you realize how hard we both worked to clear our schedules for this weekend away?”
“We’d find a way, Carolyn. I want a baby. Our baby. And before you say I don’t love Emma like my own, stop. You know I do. If I was her actual father, I’d still want another baby with you.”
“I don’t. I do look at babies sometimes and feel a pang, but I look at puppies that way sometimes, too. Both are cute and it’s fun to pick them up and cuddle them, but that doesn’t mean I want to bring either of them home. I’m sorry if I somehow led you to believe I might change my mind, but I won’t.”
“Caro.” He knew there was more to what she was saying, he just couldn’t get her to share it with him.
“Stephan, I don’t want to talk about it. I want a nice weekend alone with you. I don’t want to have this fight again.” She waited a moment, then added, “Please, let’s just drop it?”
Before he could reply, she turned and walked to the passenger side of the car. Stephan opened her door, not saying anything. They had all weekend. Before it was over, they’d sort this out somehow.
“I’ll drop it for now,” was all he promised.
STEPHAN HAD LONG SINCE fallen asleep. Carolyn couldn’t quite manage it. She was still too upset from their fight.
It seemed that’s all they ever did lately.
It was clear he wanted a child, and there was very little Carolyn wouldn’t do for Stephan. But that?
Time after time she’d listed her very logical reasons not to have another child, but he wouldn’t listen to logic, and that’s all she had.
In the living room, she clicked on the lamp and curled onto the couch across from the fireplace. Her photo album of her wedding was on the coffee table. She eyed it a moment, then before she could stop herself, she picked it up and flipped it open.
That first picture. Her mother and Emma buttoning the back of her gown. She’d turned, looking over her shoulder, straining to see what they were doing just as the photographer snapped the shutter. It was one of her favorite shots.
Slowly, she turned the pages, remembering that day…it had been perfect. Happy.
Her mom and Stephan had pitched in and helped her plan a wedding in a little over three weeks. It had been crazy, busy and so wonderful.
She’d been so in love, so sure that nothing could ever shake the union she and Stephan had forged.
1994
“WOULD YOU STAY STILL,” her mother pleaded, as she tugged at the back of Carolyn’s dress.
“It’s taking an awful long time,” Carolyn complained.
“You’re the one who picked a dress with a hundred pearl buttons.”
“Got one,” Emma crowed with delight.
Her mother had started from the top, Emma from the bottom. Her mom did half a dozen or more in the time it took Emma to do one, but each button for her daughter was a huge accomplishment.
Carolyn turned her head as if she’d actually be able to see the button. “Doing great, Em.”
There was a blinding light as the photographer snapped yet another picture. She hadn’t even walked down the aisle yet, and she was already tired of having her picture taken.
“I think that’s good,” she told the woman.
“Okay. I’ll go set up at the altar.” She grabbed her case and headed toward the door.
“Whose idea was this again?” Carolyn asked with a laugh.
In such a short time, they’d pulled everything together, from using a small Port Clinton church, to a reception that consisted of wedding cake and punch. Big and fancy didn’t matter to Carolyn or to Stephan. Being surrounded by family did.
Having Emma present, walking and talking, well, that’s what mattered most to Carolyn. She craned around to glance at her daughter, working diligently on a button and marveled at how lucky she was.
“Mommy’s all m-mushy…again,” Emma said with all the disgust a kid could muster.
“There. You’re done,” Carolyn’s mother announced. “And all I’ve got to say is I’m glad I’m not going to be the one unbuttoning it.” She smiled as she said it.
Things between her parents and Stephan had thawed considerably. And her mother wasn’t just going through the motions with the wedding, she seemed genuinely pleased.
Carolyn hugged her. “Thanks for the help, Mom.”
“Be happy.”
“We will.” She could see their lives—hers, Stephan’s and Emma’s—laid out before her. Healthy and happy. Summers at the cottages.
There was a knock at the door, and Emma, pushing her walker, hurried to open it. “Grandpa.”
Carolyn’s father looked at her. “You look beautiful, honey. It’s time.”
“Then let’s go.” She walked out the door to go find her groom.
Yes, she and Stephan were about to start their very happy life together.
CAROLYN FLIPPED BACK TO the first picture, her mother and Emma fastening all those buttons on the back of her dress.
She looked at her own expression. Pure and utter joy.
She hadn’t fallen out of love with Stephan. If anything, she loved him more. But she wasn’t sure he felt the same way.
They were at an impasse, and she just couldn’t see a way around it. All she knew was that she was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of Stephan making her feel guilty.
She turned to the picture of her and Stephan, holding hands as the minister introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Foster for the first time.
So happy. She traced her smile, wishing she could touch the emotions she was feeling then.
When Stephan had said they needed to talk, her stomach had sunk.
It meant Stephan would start his let’s-have-a-baby campaign, and she’d be forced to tell him no, which would lead to more guilt for her.
She was sick to death of feeling she had to justify her wishes. She’d had an inkling, when they’d gotten engaged, as to how she felt about having a baby. She’d hoped her feelings would change, but they hadn’t. If anything, they were stronger. She didn’t want another baby. Ever.
She wasn’t sure how to resolve their problems.
She was sure she didn’t want to lose Stephan.
STEPHAN ROLLED OVER AND found the bed beside him empty. The sun couldn’t have been up long, because the room still had its grayish morning tint. He got up and pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, then looked out the window. The sky at the edge of the eastern side of the lake was a brilliant pink and orange, slowly bleeding higher into the dark sky.
He walked into the living room. Carolyn wasn’t there. The cottage was empty except for the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
He grabbed a cup and a couple of slices of bread, then strolled out onto the empty beach. He found her, just where he’d expected her to be. Sitting cross-legged on top of Spencer’s Rock.
She didn’t smile as he approached. “You’re up. I didn’t think I’d see you for at least another hour yet.”
It hurt that there was a widening gap between them. That wasn’t what Stephan had wanted. He thought about climbing up next to her, but didn’t. He simply said, “I missed you. The bed feels lonely without you in it.”
“Sorry. I had a hard time sleeping and gave up and read.” She slid down off the rock and onto the sand next to him.
“I figured you’d already used up your supply, so I brought you a few more slices of bread.”
“Thanks.” She went to the water’s edge and held the bread over her head a moment, then started tearing pieces off and tossing them onto the sand.
That’s all it took for a couple of seagulls to react. They were soon joined by more, and their cries grew louder and louder. Carolyn ripped off pieces of bread and tossed them in the air. The gulls caught them as if this were an act they’d all practiced. He sat on the sand and watched her smile as she continued tearing up the bread and throwing it.
It was a simple thing.
When they were younger, Stephan used to call the birds flying rats which annoyed Carolyn to no end. She’d insist they were beautiful. Round and round, the argument would go.
A staple of their youth.
A fun fight.
Not like their current one.
She finished feeding the gulls, and sat back down next to him, taking a long sip of her coffee as she eyed him warily.
“Caro, let’s just spend the day together. Let’s not talk about anything that has any weight or heft. Let’s just enjoy the day.”
He could see her relief, not just in her expression, but in the way her entire body visibly relaxed. “I’d like that.”
“Why don’t we go back up the cottage, pack a lunch and take out Dad’s boat. We could cruise around the islands, maybe do some fishing. Eat our lunch on the boat, and just be together.”
She smiled at him with no hint of apprehension or anger. “Stephan Foster, sometimes you have the best ideas.”
“Let’s go.”
Stephan couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this…spent an entire day just having fun. They fished for quite a while. He caught nothing, while Carolyn hooked an impressive string of fish. “I caught ’em. I’ll cook ’em. You clean ’em.”
“How is it that I always end up cleaning, even if I catch them?”
“It’s one of the mysteries of the unive
rse.” She smiled as she shrugged. “No one has ever solved it.”
“It’s not a mystery at all. It’s that you’re a girl. Afraid of some fish guts.”
“Not afraid, just cagey enough not to be the one up to their elbows in them.” She laughed.
Stephan realized he’d do anything to hear more of that sound. He’d even give up on the idea of having another child with her. It hurt him to think of it because he wanted a child with Carolyn. He’d watched her grow up an only child. She’d told him when she was younger that she wished she had siblings like he did, and that when she was an adult she was going to have a dozen kids.
He wasn’t sure when or why that had changed. Maybe if Carolyn would tell him, it would be easier to let go of the thought of more kids.
Maybe.
“I’ve got something for you.” He handed her a box. “I don’t usually buy things, especially big things, without consulting you, but in this case, the price was right, and I was pretty sure you’d agree it was money well spent.”
Carolyn opened the small box and stared at the key. “I don’t get it. I mean, it’s a very nice key and all, but…?”
“It’s to your folk’s cottage.”
“Still don’t get it. Sorry.”
He laughed. “You see, your dad and I were talking last summer, and he felt the cottage was getting to be too much responsibility for them. They want to travel, and he made me an offer. Your parents sold us the cottage. It’s ours. Your dad said it was a selfish sale. They’ll still be able to come out here, just like always, but we own it and get all the headaches that go with its upkeep.”
Carolyn hadn’t said anything during his hurried explanation. She still didn’t. She just held the key in her hand, looking at him. “Do you mind?” he asked.
“Oh, Stephan, that’s lovely.” She practically radiated her happiness as she hugged him. “The cottage always seemed more my home than my mom and dad’s place in Cleveland. After I graduated and they took the new teaching jobs in Columbus, that was never my home at all. This is. It always has been. Thank you.”
“I spent more time at your folks’ cottage than at my family’s when we were growing up. It’s home to me, as well. And hopefully for our family. I’d always imagined it would be filled with our children, that there would be more than Emma.” The words slipped out before he could take them back.