by Marci Bolden
Carrie debated knocking on the office door. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb Will, but she hadn’t seen him for two days. She knew he’d eaten because she’d found his dishes in the sink, but she hadn’t actually seen him.
She tapped on the door, pushed it open, and poked her head inside. “Good God, you look like hell.”
Will smiled at her. “Thanks.”
“Lunch is ready.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I’m on a roll.”
“So it’s going well?”
“I don’t know about that, but I’m writing.”
“Can I see?”
“Not yet.” He closed the document as she neared the desk. “Maybe when I’m done.”
“What are you writing?”
“Um, I don’t know. I’m writing whatever. When I think it’s good enough, I’ll let you see.”
“Fair enough. Would you like me to bring you something?”
“I’ll come out for lunch soon. Promise.”
Leaning over the desk, she waited for him to kiss her, but once he did, she frowned deeply. “You need to shave.”
“I need to bathe.”
“I was being nice,” she commented, leaving him to his writing. She went back to the kitchen and smiled at Doreen. “Mama, would you like to help me make some marinade for the chicken? Something garlicky to go with pasta?”
Doreen hesitated before meeting Carrie’s gaze. “Have you seen the cat?”
They didn’t have a cat. They’d never had a cat. “In the den,” she lied.
“She’s always disappearing.”
“She’s sleeping, Mama. How about we start dinner?”
“What is Mike doing in there?”
“Paperwork.”
“Your father never had to do so much paperwork.”
Carrie went to the pantry to find the olive oil. “Things are different now, Mama.” Coming into the kitchen carrying several ingredients, she set them on the counter.
“Have you seen the cat?”
Carrie sighed. God, how she hated days like these.
Putting Mama to bed several hours later was such a relief, Carrie almost felt guilty. Her guilt eased, however, when she walked into the kitchen to find a haggard-looking Will filling two wineglasses.
“Ah, just like the good ol’ days,” she said.
He smiled. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to neglect you.”
She kissed his cheek. “I get it.”
“You do?”
She nodded as she accepted a glass. “Back when I had a life beyond this inn, I used to get caught up in the kitchen. Imagining new recipes or improving old ones. I don’t have much time for that these days, but I do remember that creating something can be addicting.”
“Yes, it can.”
“I worked crazy long hours sometimes. Drove Mike nuts.”
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he guided her to the back door and out to the patio where a fire was already roaring. “How was Mama today?”
Carrie sank down and so did her mood. “Honestly?” Swirling her wine in her glass, she frowned. “She seems to be fading more and more quickly. Every day seems to take a larger piece of her mind.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll put this project on hold—”
“No. You won’t. There isn’t anything you can do, Will.”
“I can be here for you.”
Reaching out, she took his hand and squeezed it. “You are. And that means the world to me.”
Chapter 21
Over a month passed before Will let Carrie see his script. Though he knew the work still needed polishing, he couldn’t wait to hear feedback from someone. So, with a bottle of wine and his nerves on edge, he dragged her to the den and sat her down. An occasional laugh would leave her, sometimes her brow would crease, but she refused to explain until she finished her second read through.
He’d stopped asking her why she was reacting the way she was when she’d threatened to make him leave her alone. So, he sat watching her face, trying to get an idea of what she was thinking. Not knowing was torture, but he couldn’t make himself stop. At one point, she’d sent him to check on Mama, who was sound asleep. And then she’d sent him for wine. But other than that, he’d sat watching, waiting, silently begging for feedback.
As he sat, he realized how much he had been neglecting her lately. She insisted he wasn’t—that being there was enough—but she looked exhausted. The light that usually shone in her eyes seemed to have dimmed. Mama’s mental state continued to deteriorate, and with it, Carrie’s ability to have a positive outlook.
She hadn’t said as much, but in the little bit of time she and Will spent talking about the situation, Will had sensed she was beginning to accept the reality that Doreen’s Alzheimer’s was progressing quickly.
Putting his hand on Carrie’s knee, he squeezed gently.
She smirked but didn’t take her focus off the page. “Stop pestering me.”
“I’m not.”
Lifting her gaze, she cocked a brow.
“I was thinking how amazing you are.”
She laughed quietly and lowered his script. “Bribing the judge?”
“No,” he said sincerely. “Recognizing that I’ve been a bit self-absorbed the last few weeks. Longer if I were honest. Now that I’m talking to my mom more often, I really don’t want to get back into the cycle of ignoring the people who are important to me. I’m sorry I haven’t been more present. I know you need help with Mama.”
Gently touching his cheek, she drew a deep breath as the sadness in her eyes deepened. “I appreciate your support, but taking care of Doreen is on me, Will. I’m just… I have to start facing some truths that I’ve done my best to ignore for a really long time.”
“Such as?”
“The Alzheimer’s isn’t the only thing going on here. Her diabetes is getting worse. She gets tired so easily these days. I think Natalie is right. I think she’s been right all along. No matter how hard I try…” A sheen of tears coated her eyes. “No matter how hard I try, I do not have the money or the capability to keep her here much longer.”
“Money isn’t an issue,” he said softly.
“Will—”
“You listen to me,” he said with a tone that let her know he wasn’t debating this. “Money is not an issue when it comes to keeping Mama in this house.”
“I’m not taking charity from you.”
Brushing her hair behind her ear, he gave her a smile. “Helping Mama live out her days in her home is not charity. It’s me looking after someone I care about. If we need to hire another nurse, we’ll hire another nurse. Whatever we need to do, we’ll do it. Money isn’t an issue.”
“She’s only sixty-four. She could live another twenty years.”
“Yes, she could.”
“You’re going to pay for a nurse for twenty years? That isn’t—”
He put his fingers to her lips to stop her argument. “When someone does something nice for you, Carolyn, you say thank you.”
“Thank you.” Dropping the papers, she leaned into him and hugged him tightly.
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome. Now…” Picking up the papers, he exhaled heavily. “Finish reading this, please. You’re killing me.”
Carrie blinked slowly as her eyes tried to focus on the numbers on the clock. Nearly three in the morning. Seconds passed before she jolted. Something had stirred her from her sleep, and that usually spelled trouble. Grabbing the monitor that she kept beside her bed, she squinted until she could confirm that Mama was tucked between the sheets, sleeping soundly.
Glancing over her shoulder, the dim moonlight revealed the other side to be empty. Will had gotten out of bed at some point. That must have been what caused her to awaken. Sliding her feet into her slippers, Carrie headed to the bathroom to check on him, but he wasn’t there. Moving, silent as a ghost, she searched until she found him pacing in the den with his phone pressed to his ear.
<
br /> When he turned, the smile on his face was as brilliant as she’d ever seen it. His eyes met hers, and the excitement there was obvious. He waved for her to come in and grabbed her hand as he listened to whatever he was being told.
“Thanks,” he finally said. “Thank you so much. I’ll call you back in the morning.” He barely ended the call before dropping his phone onto the sofa and pulling Carrie into a big hug. “That was my agent.”
Carrie’s heart sank. That was all he had to say. Between the excitement on his face and the relief his voice held, she already understood what was happening.
Will leaned back and put his hands on her face as he laughed lightly. “He loves my script. It’s still rough. There’s still work to be done. But he loves it.” Will shook his head. “He wants me back in LA right away so we can start working toward the next steps.”
Yeah. That’s what she’d feared.
“I don’t want you to worry.” The smile on his lips fell as he grew serious. “I’ll only be gone for a few days. Maybe a few weeks at most. But I’ll be back as soon as I can. And if you need me for anything,” he said, “call. I’ll be there.”
For a moment, just a heartbeat, she believed him. However, he pulled back and grabbed his phone. When he looked at her again, the raw happiness had returned. “I gotta book a flight and pack a bag.”
He held her hand as he led them upstairs. While he rambled about his project and all the people he wanted to work with, she sat on the edge of the bed smiling and nodding at the appropriate times, but she wasn’t hearing him. She was silently reminding herself that she had known all along this day would come. She’d known his desire to go back to California would win out eventually.
The hours flew by until Carrie sat across from Will, sipping coffee as Mama chatted lightly over breakfast. Will had told Mama about his trip and, as he’d done to Carrie, promised he wouldn’t be gone long. The more times he said that, the less Carrie believed him.
He was leaving. Going back to his life, back to the life that he loved. Something told her that once he stepped foot back in his world, this one would quickly fade from his mind. As she’d done all night, Carrie smiled at the appropriate times but couldn’t force herself to engage in the conversation or genuinely share in his excitement.
Within hours, Natalie had shown up to stay with Mama, and Carrie was on her way to take Will to Des Moines International Airport to catch a flight to LA. They were silent most of the way, but as they exited the highway, Will looked at her.
“Do you think Mama understood?” he asked.
“I’ll talk to her about it when I get back. She’ll be fine.”
“Do you understand?”
For the first time since he’d gotten off the phone with his agent, he sounded uncertain.
Carrie glanced at him and saw concern in his eyes. She did understand. This was his life. This was his dream. He had to chase it. He had to try. Asking him not to, asking him to stay with her, would be unfair.
However, the fear in her stomach was like a hot rock. He’d told her about how he’d missed spending time with his ill father because of his career. How his career had driven a wedge between him and his brother. She wasn’t family. She was… She didn’t know what she was, but she wasn’t ready to ask either. Offering him a smile, she said, “Of course I do. And I’m happy for you, Will.”
Putting his hand on her thigh, he squeezed it gently. “I’ll call you tonight and let you know what I find out.”
She stared straight ahead, clutching the steering wheel. “If you decide to do this, how long will it take to finish?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out as much as I can before we talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
A heavy silence felt like a wall between them until he asked, “What are you guys going to do while I’m gone?”
“Oh, the usual,” she answered as lightly as she could. “Keg parties and orgies with the neighbors.”
He chuckled. “Save that for when I get back. There is nothing I’d like to see more than Mama drinking from a beer bong.”
Carrie laughed as she turned into the airport. “I’m sure there are pictures somewhere. I hear she was pretty wild in her younger days.”
“I bet.”
Her amusement faded as she followed the lane for passenger drop-off. Within moments, she was pulling up to the curb in front of sliding glass doors and watching people dragging suitcases.
“It’s only for a few days,” he said.
“You’ll be back before you know it,” she agreed. Releasing her seat belt, she pulled the lever to pop the trunk and climbed out of the car. Meeting him at the back of the car, she stood back as he grabbed his suitcase.
He set the bags down and slammed the trunk shut before looking at her. Closing the distance between them, Carrie slid her arms around Will’s waist and leaned into him as he squeezed her tightly.
He pressed his lips gently to hers. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He picked up his bag and stepped onto the curb. Putting his fingers to his lips, he blew her a kiss. She offered him a smile and then turned and walked away.
Chapter 22
As Carrie feared, a few days of Will being in LA turned into a week, a week turned into two, and that turned into a month. His calling every night turned into every other, and that turned into every few days.
She didn’t want to let her fear and doubt take over, but it was becoming more and more clear every day—she was losing him to his old life. When they did talk, the excitement in his voice was unmistakable. He was loving everything about what he was doing. He talked about things she didn’t understand and people she didn’t know. He did his best to keep her up-to-date and include her in what was happening, but she was too far out of the loop. She tried to care, tried to catch up, but the reality was, she had no idea how to talk to him about his project. She didn’t speak that language or understand that culture. She didn’t fit in that world.
When he asked about her day, all she could report was Doreen’s deteriorating health. She didn’t have a project or a passion to share. All she had were updates on Mama, and none of them were good. The difference between Carrie’s and Will’s lives was shining brightly now—as she had suspected it would the moment they’d parted ways.
No one was to blame. Will was in his world, and Carrie was in hers. And those two worlds were on opposite sides of the universe. Losing him saddened her, but the outcome had been inevitable. She’d always known this, just as she’d known that it was inevitable that she’d someday lose Doreen to her illness.
“You look a million miles away,” Mama said, pulling Carrie from her thoughts as she aimlessly stirred the cup of hot tea she’d poured.
Carrie didn’t know why she’d filled a mug. She hadn’t wanted the drink, but she’d needed something to occupy her while she hovered around the kitchen while Mama searched high and low for something she couldn’t name or describe. They’d been making a grocery list when Doreen had gotten distracted. That had been almost an hour prior.
Blinking back to the present, she tilted her head curiously at the strainer in Mama’s hand but didn’t comment on it. “Oh, just thinking.”
“About what?”
She cleared her throat and lied. “Thanksgiving dinner. It’s not that far away, you know. We should add that to our shopping list.”
Doreen’s eyes lit with happiness as she put the strainer down. “Oh, let’s have the works. Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, potatoes, pies. I want it all.”
“Who’s going to eat all that stuff, Mama? It’s just the two of us.” As soon as the words left her, Carrie’s smile fell. She looked at the older woman with horror. She waited, but Mama didn’t seem to realize that Carrie hadn’t included Mike.
“And homemade rolls,” Mama continued. “We haven’t had homemade rolls in so long.”
“Rolls would be great.”
“Will Natalie be here this year?�
��
“Probably for dessert. She hates her mother’s pumpkin pie.”
“I don’t blame her,” Mama said. “I tasted it once at a bake sale. The crust was terrible.”
Carrie laughed when Doreen pulled her lips tight and shook her head. Carrie marveled that the woman could remember how bad a pie tasted, when this morning she’d looked at the nurse who’d been assisting her for months as if the woman was a stranger.
When her cell phone rang, Carrie couldn’t help the way her heart lifted a little at the sound of Will’s ringtone. “Add whatever you want to our shopping list, Mama. I’ll be right back.”
She waited until she was stepping out of the kitchen before answering. “Hey,” she said warmly.
“Whatcha doing?” Will asked.
“Mama and I were planning Thanksgiving dinner. Should we expect you?”
“When is that?”
“Two weeks.”
He sighed heavily. “Ah, babe, I don’t know.”
She had been expecting that, but his rejection still cut at her heart. “Well, what are you going to do?”
“I usually crash somebody’s party. That’s how we do it out here.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. She didn’t smile in return. “How’s the project going?”
“Great. It’s going so great.” As always when he talked of his work, his excitement was evident, but she couldn’t bring herself to share in his happiness this time. “We’re still working on getting some investors. It’s coming together.”
She sat on the sofa in the den. “When do you start filming?”
“We’re a long way from that, I’m afraid.”
She closed her eyes tightly. “Any idea when we’ll see you?”
“I don’t know. I know I promised to be home right away”—his tone was full of regret—“but I really didn’t expect this ball to get rolling so fast. There’s so much going on between this and promoting Donnie’s shit. I feel like my head is spinning.”
“I don’t mean to add to it,” she said quietly.
“You’re not. I miss you. Maybe you and Mama can come out here. I’ll have dinner catered,” he offered. “You won’t have to lift a finger.”