A Life Without Flowers

by Marci Bolden

“He wasn’t a monster, Mom. He was broken. From the day I met him, something was broken inside of him that needed to be fixed.”

  “Oh, I could have told you that. Actually, I believe I did.”

  Carol forced herself to let the I-told-you-so roll off her back. “Do you know he never remarried? He said he rarely even dated.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. The man was a cad.”

  “No. He was a drunk and a selfish fool, but he was never a cad. He left everything he had to me because he didn’t have anyone else.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for him—”

  “I’m not,” Carol insisted. “I’m trying to make you understand that he realized what he’d lost, and he mourned for it. He mourned for the life he threw away. Not just Katie but me too. He was my husband, the father of my child, and I stood back and watched him fall instead of helping him. I made mistakes too. We were able to forgive each other before he died, and I believe that meant something. To me, to John, and to Katie.”

  Judith stood taller, obviously tapping into her defiance again. “He is the reason she’s gone.”

  “It was an accident. He never meant for her to get hurt.”

  “She didn’t get hurt, Carol. She died.” Judith turned on her heels and headed for the door, muttering, “I’ll never understand you,” as she left.

  Caroline slowed her steps as she walked into the living room of the small apartment she and John were sharing. His mother forced a smile on her face, and John shrugged, as if to silently communicate that whatever was about to transpire was out of his control. Though Frannie was a petite woman, the energy around her was so big she seemed to fill the room. The first time Caroline met his parents was two years ago, soon after they’d started dating. She’d felt a kind of belonging she’d never felt with her own parents. She’d already been infatuated with John by that point, but after spending an evening with his family, she’d been head over heels in love. With all of them.

  Frannie was a delightful woman whom Caroline had grown to adore, but something about her behavior at the moment didn’t feel right. The weekend before, while shopping for a wedding dress, Caroline had confessed to Frannie that her parents had all but disowned her for getting pregnant. Frannie had wanted to plan a church wedding and a reception, but Caroline couldn’t face either. Not when her parents had already told her they had no intentions of celebrating what they saw as a failure on her part.

  Caroline had done her best to avoid Frannie’s sympathetic looks, but there she was, standing across the room with a sad smile on her face.

  “Hey, honey,” Frannie cooed with a bit too much sweetness.

  Caroline glanced between mother and son and tried to return Frannie’s smile but couldn’t quite seem to make her lips work.

  “I’ll take that.” John crossed the room and snagged the basket from Caroline. She watched him head into the bedroom and squelched the urge to grab it back. The last time he’d folded laundry, she’d spent hours ironing every piece of clothing he’d touched. His idea of folding was more like wadding and stuffing into a drawer.

  “How are you feeling?” Frannie asked, bringing Caroline’s attention back to her.

  “I’m…fine.” She drew the words out, unsure what she was really being asked. Though Frannie had always been kind to her, Caroline had years of experience reading between her own mother’s lines. The way John and Frannie had abruptly ended their conversation when she walked in was a sign of trouble she had seen a thousand times. “How are you?”

  Frannie seemed frozen at the island separating the kitchen from the living room. She usually rushed to give Caroline a hug. Something was definitely wrong. The prick of tears stung the back of Caroline’s eyes. Without thinking, she rested her hand on her stomach, which was starting to bulge from the baby growing there.

  She’d done something, but she couldn’t pinpoint what. She’d tried so hard to do everything right—she’d altered her plans to go to medical school, she’d moved out of the dorm and into John’s apartment when he’d asked…

  Oh. That must be it.

  They weren’t married, and yet here she was—pregnant and living in his home. She wasn’t working. She wasn’t contributing to the financial burden she’d placed on him. They’d agreed she should focus on finishing her degree so she could get a job after the baby was born, but maybe… Maybe his parents didn’t approve. Naturally they’d blame her instead of John.

  The idea of losing Frannie’s support crushed the little bit of happiness Caroline had managed to find.

  “Don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” Frannie said with that same fake smile she’d plastered on the moment Caroline entered the apartment.

  Caroline blinked but couldn’t find her voice or the right words to say. Until she knew what was coming her way, silence was best. She couldn’t defend herself against the unknown.

  Frannie’s smile faded into a frown as her face seemed to fill with concern. “Honey, I was talking to John about… Well, I thought maybe Mark and I should reach out to your parents and see if we can help make this easier for them. Grandparent to grandparent. John doesn’t think that’s a good idea. What do you think?”

  Caroline’s lip trembled. “I… No, Frannie, please don’t. They’re too disappointed in me right now.”

  “Well,” Frannie said. Her smile returned—this time seemingly genuine. “I’m not. Neither is Mark. We’re so excited to become grandparents.”

  Caroline tried to detect the hidden meaning, tried to find the trap Frannie was setting, but she couldn’t figure out the game. She’d learned her parents double-speak long ago, how to hear what they were really saying when they lied through their forced smiles. She hadn’t learned how to read Frannie yet. From what she could tell, Frannie was sincere in her excitement.

  Frannie crossed the room and clutched Caroline’s hands. “I can’t wait to spoil my grandchild.”

  Caroline started to pull away, but Frannie held tight to her fingers. John had told her a hundred times how kind and generous his parents were. They were nothing like her parents, or so he’d said. She wasn’t sure how long that would last after getting pregnant out of wedlock. Surely they thought less of her now.

  “And you know what?” Frannie asked. “I can’t wait to spoil you too.”

  Standing a bit taller, Caroline furrowed her brow. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” Frannie released Caroline’s hand and cupped her cheek the way John liked to do. “I’ve always wanted a daughter. Now I have you and a grandbaby. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so happy.”

  “Really?” Caroline asked, barely above a whisper. She so wanted to believe her, but years of rejection from her parents kept her from trusting Frannie’s words.

  “Yes. Really. I’m sorry your mom and dad aren’t being more supportive, but I’m sure they’ll come around. Until then”—Frannie tucked Caroline’s sandy-brown hair behind her ear—“you have me.”

  Caroline bit her lip hard, trying to stop herself from crying, but the moment Frannie pulled her into a hug, a little sob ripped from her chest. Frannie was at least six inches shorter than Caroline, so the hug was awkward until Frannie guided them onto the couch. She tucked Caroline’s head onto her shoulder and rubbed her back. Other than John, no one had even attempted to ease her fears.

  The show of kindness cracked her façade, and Caroline let loose the hurt she’d been burying deep inside. She was pregnant. Her life had been turned upside down. She was scared. And she’d never felt so rejected in all her life. She’d always known her parents could be cruel, but the last few weeks, when she’d needed them most, they’d turned her away. Abandoned her. She’d felt as if she were in a freefall with no one to catch her.

  Until Frannie hugged her tight.

  “I imagine you must be so scared right now.” Frannie’s voice was soothing and maternal. “Everything is changing so fast. You must feel like your head is spinning sometimes. When this all starts to feel like
too much, you call me, okay? No matter what it is or how silly you might think it is, I’m right here, ready to help you sort through everything.”

  Caroline wanted to thank her, but she was crying too hard. She couldn’t remember ever weeping like this. Her parents thought this kind of emotion was a dramatic plea for attention, so Caroline had learned how to contain these types of outbursts long ago.

  Despite the embarrassment she felt, she couldn’t stop herself. She clung to Frannie, ignoring how her sinuses were filling as she sniffed and snorted.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s going on with your parents?” Frannie asked after a few minutes. “I’m sure I can help.”

  Caroline shook her head. “They’ve wanted me to go to medical school since I was young. Now…” Sitting up, she nabbed tissues from the box on the end table and did her best to clean up her face.

  “Do they know you’re going to finish your nursing degree before the baby comes?”

  She nodded as she wiped her nose. “We told them that, but it’s not what they wanted.”

  Frannie brushed another strand of Caroline’s hair from her face. “Well, you’re an adult now. Your life can’t always be about what they wanted. And that’s okay, Caroline. I, for one, am really proud of you. You’ve shown the kind of forethought that is going to make you a great mom.”

  The compassion in her words, or maybe someone vocalizing that she’d done something to be proud of, melted her resolve again. She buried her face in her hands as her crying started anew.

  Frannie ran her hand over Caroline’s back for several moments before asking, “Honey, I have to ask. Is medical school your dream or your parents’?”

  Caroline wished she could answer, but she wasn’t sure. Although, she supposed, the why or how didn’t matter now. They might have pushed her toward medical school, but she’d chosen her area of study on her own. “I wanted to be a pediatrician.”

  “You’ll be an amazing pediatrician someday,” Frannie said. “You’ll get back to your plans. I promise. We’ll find a way.”

  “We?” Caroline’s voice came out as a cracked whisper.

  “Of course.” Frannie smiled wide. “We’re family now. If my girl wants to be a pediatrician, we’ll find a way. Together.”

  Besides her aunt Ellen, the only person who had ever called Caroline “my girl” was John. When he said those words, she’d swell with pride as if she was finally someone. Hearing them from Frannie, though, made her feel as if she’d found someplace where she belonged. She was someone’s girl. John’s girl. Frannie’s girl. She was wanted here.

  Caroline tried to stifle her reaction, but a soft cry left her anyway.

  Frannie leaned closer, hugged her closer. “Caroline, unplanned pregnancies happen all the time. This is a distraction. A slight detour. Not the end of the road. Mark and I are here to help you. We want you and John to have an amazing life together, sweetie, and if that means pitching in to help you go back to school when it’s time, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  Frannie’s willingness to take her in, to help and support her, gave her a better understanding of what she’d been missing for so long. In that moment, Caroline came to resent her mother. More than resent her. The seedling of anger in her mind grew. As did her recognition that she could do this without her mother. She didn’t need Judith Stewart’s approval or help or…anything. She didn’t need a damn thing from her parents.

  Though she couldn’t have imagined willingly showing Frannie weakness even ten minutes ago, Caroline leaned over and put her head back on the woman’s shoulder. Frannie hugged her close, and Caroline leaned into the embrace, soaking up the kind of maternal support she’d never had before.

  Carol loved seeing her aunt’s work. Standing in the spare room that also served as an art studio, she admired the many paintings hanging on the walls as the late-afternoon sun streamed in through the blinds. Ellen had left Dayton the day after her eighteenth birthday and traveled the country, working odd jobs to support herself. Judith, of course, had shared that information as a warning of what not to do, but Carol had spent her childhood dreaming of being carefree like her aunt.

  By her late twenties, Ellen had settled in Boulder, married an incredibly sweet man, and become an art teacher. Whenever Carol and her mother visited, Carol and her cousins went wild with paints in the area Ellen had set up as her studio. Watercolors were Carol’s favorite, mostly because she wasn’t great at painting and watercolors were a bit more forgiving. Even mistakes looked beautiful in watercolor.

  She’d seen the same enthusiasm in Katie when she’d colored. Carol had done her best to encourage her daughter’s love of art. Instead of steering her toward something else, as her own parents had done, Carol bought more coloring books, crayons, and paints than one child could ever use up. She’d never been able to understand why her parents refused to let her pursue her own interests.

  “Where’s your mind?” Ellen asked from the doorway.

  Carol blinked the memories away. “I was thinking about how you’d let us kids take over your studio when I’d visit. I loved that.”

  “Did you?”

  Tearing her attention from a painting of a woman dancing in the rain, she looked at Ellen. “You couldn’t tell?”

  “Oh, sweetheart. You were such a serious child; getting a read on you was challenging sometimes. I do remember how hard you tried.” Moving to Carol’s side, Ellen slid an arm around her waist. “Maybe if you had relaxed and let the painting come to you, you would have had more fun. And been happier.”

  “I was happy when I was painting.”

  “It didn’t show.”

  Carol shrugged. “Well, I learned how to hide my feelings at a young age. Hiding was safer.”

  Ellen gave her a light squeeze before stepping away and sinking into the plush red sofa. While the inside of the house was filled mostly with neutrals, the studio reflected Ellen’s personal tastes with bright colors. “Why did you sneak away? And don’t tell me it’s to look at my art. I know you better than that.”

  “Mom’s animosity toward me feels overwhelming at the moment. I needed a break.”

  Ellen gave a slight laugh. “Oh, I hate to break this to you, kiddo, but you’re equally as bad. The moment she doesn’t agree with you, your defenses go up and she responds in kind. The tension between the two of you is exhausting.”

  “I know,” Carol admitted. “We’ve never been close, but we certainly know how to push each other’s buttons.”

  Ellen didn’t disagree. No logical person could. “If you’re serious about mending fences, you’re going to need a bit more patience than you’ve shown so far.”

  Carol considered her words for several seconds before facing her with a furrowed brow. “I’m not imagining things, am I? They always seemed so hostile when I was growing up and I never knew why. Was I seeing something that wasn’t there?”

  Ellen took a moment before answering. “Hostile is a strong word. They were strict. They were firm. Your father bought into an old-school authoritarian type of parenting. That isn’t the same as hostility, Carol. I’m sure it seemed that way to you as a child, but they loved you. They hurt when you were hurting, and John hurt you a lot. You can’t blame your mother for resenting him for everything he did to you.”

  “They were awful to him from the day they met him. They never gave him a chance.”

  “Did you ever consider they were awful to him because they saw through his charms a lot easier than you did?” Ellen clasped her hands and tilted her head to the side in the way she did right before agreeing with her sister instead of her niece. “She isn’t wrong, honey. They did try to warn you about him.”

  Carol disagreed with a hard shake of her head. “No. They didn’t try to warn me, Aunt Ellen. They tried to control my life like they always did. John wasn’t their choice, therefore he was the wrong choice. Seeing them treat him like dirt made me want to protect him. That was probably how our entire enabling cycle started.”


  “Now that,” Ellen said pointedly, “is definitely something you can’t blame on your parents.”

  A wry laugh left Carol as she sank down onto the sofa next to Ellen. “No, I can’t. I take full responsibility for that. My pride wouldn’t allow them to be right, even when I saw they were.”

  “Sweetheart, you were in over your head with that man, and they knew it.” Ellen’s voice returned to her usual sweet tone as she gripped Carol’s hand. “Your mom called me, so upset, after meeting him. She was worried he was going to ruin your future, which is exactly what he did in the end.”

  “But he didn’t, and that is what Mom and Dad never seemed to understand. John was a detour. A brief hurdle I had to overcome. I had an entire life after I left him. I got my advanced degree, like they wanted. I had an amazingly successful career, like they wanted. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband than I found in Tobias. None of that ever mattered because they never forgave me for altering the course they’d plotted for me.” The burning fury took Carol by surprise. She hadn’t realized how raw that old wound still was. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell Dad how much he hurt me my entire life, but I’m going to tell Mom. I hope we can have some kind of relationship after I do, but if we can’t…” She shrugged, as if the idea didn’t bother her much at all. “Then I will walk away from her knowing I tried.”

  Ellen blew out a long breath, and Carol realized how bitter she’d sounded. Hell, she was bitter. But she hadn’t meant to let it show, especially with her aunt.

  “That came out harsher than intended,” Carol whispered.

  “Anger tends to do that when you bottle it up too long. Starts taking over logic and spilling out when you don’t expect it to.” Ellen tenderly stroked her thumb over Carol’s hand. “If you’re serious about confronting all these old issues with your mother, you’d better be prepared for whatever she throws back.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you have your grievances, and your mother has hers. I love you more than Nude Model Mondays at the art center,” Ellen said, causing Carol to chuckle, “but you’re not perfect either. You’ve done things that hurt them too.”