Sliver of Truth (Shattered Hearts of Carolina Book 3)

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Sliver of Truth (Shattered Hearts of Carolina Book 3) Page 16

by Jody Kaye


  “It kind of happens this way. Antibiotics take a day to kick in.”

  “Do this one next, please.” Sylvie points to a redhead with a bow and arrow.

  I lift it with my nail, cautious not to tear the edges. “This is harder than it seems.” I smile, having fun. She asks which wilderness page she should affix it to and I blink at all the options since I’ve never done this before. My childhood thrill was if the bananas came with a blue sticker on them.

  I’ve forgotten where I am and why we’re here when Dusty growls walking into the cheery hospital room.

  “What are you doing?”

  The fine hair on my arms stand on end and I cross my legs. This isn’t an appropriate reaction to a man who hates me.

  “Celine was kind enough to bring our Sylvie a get well gift.”

  Scowling, he looks me up and down. “Want to talk. In the hall.”

  At first I’m certain he means me, but he pegs Renata in a stare and she gets up from her recliner.

  “We’ll be right back.” She winks.

  The wide door is open a crack and I’m doing my best to ignore the muffled voices. Sylvie’s talkative. It gets quiet as she sticks her tongue out of her mouth and concentrates on sticker placement. That’s when I hear Renata use a tone denoting Dusty should can his displeasure.

  “I love you, Dust, but you’re forgetting who that child’s guardian is. You’re letting your own mood get in the way of seeing Celine ain’t here to bother no one.”

  He barges off, and she’s back a moment later, rolling her eyes. “You stay as long as you want, sweetheart.”

  “Maybe a few minutes longer. It’s getting late and I need to pack.”

  “Going someplace?”

  “I’m moving.” Against Sloan’s advice. She’s positive I need the support of friends at “a time like this” more than ever. I’m certain she’s using it as an excuse to make me stay put.

  “Far away?”

  “Oh, no.” I bat the air. “You know those townhouses they built a few years back about a mile from the highway ramp? A friend of a friend is leasing me theirs for the next year. They’re relocating for work.”

  “I know right where you mean. Dusty’s friend, Holly, lives there. It’s not too big and they have a splash park for the kids during the summer.”

  “Holly’s the one who helped me find it.”

  Renata’s chin tips. “Sounds perfect since you’ve already met your neighbors. Best of luck.”

  “Thank you.” I slide my purse onto my shoulder. “Well, if I don’t see you anytime soon, get healthy, Sylvie Rhys.” Her dad won’t stand for a second visit.

  A little yawn turns into a wide grin. She’s got princesses stuck to her fingertips and wiggles each to say goodbye to me. I can’t believe we’re not going to have a chance to do this again.

  One door may have closed, but I’ve left my bedroom door open, making it easier to pack. There’s a pile of flat boxes stacked against the wall outside waiting for me to fold and fill them. A solitary one sits on my bed. I’ve placed a book inside because it was the closest thing within my reach, but glance around, taking in the sight of everything I’ve collected since moving in. It’s not a lot, but each item is filled with memories and the idea of taking them out of their spots makes me tear up.

  There’s a rustle in the hall. Spine stiffening, my natural reaction is still that it’s Dusty. A box slides down, laying at an angle on the carpeted floor. My breath is heavy as I fill my lungs. I’d prefer if my imagination stopped playing tricks on me. How long will it take to get over the anticipatory shivers waiting for his touch?

  I pull a scarf down dangling over the mirror and ball it up before opening the top dresser drawer, filled with my costumes. My cheek bunches to the side. The irony that the G-strings are all so tiny they fit inside such a small space isn’t lost on me. They’ve garnered me the cash to get to where I am. I’m not so prideful I’d never go back to dancing if times were tough, and I pull them out by the fistful and stuff them into the box.

  My cell dings on the bedside table.

  Carver: Know you’re busy. Meet me on the stairs. Won’t take long.

  Without responding, I place my phone down and walk out into the hallway, looking left. He’s sitting beyond the red velvet rope on the last step before the landing wearing faded blue jeans and his signature crisp collared shirt. Casual meets GQ. His elbows are on his knees and his hands are clasped. He’s patient, focused on the last rays of the late-day sun streaming through tall windows in the stairwell. It’s strange Carver holds himself to his own rule.

  “What can I do for you, Bossman?” I’ve called him this forever. Part of it’s teasing because Sloan has funny nicknames for Carver. But, when it comes down to it and even though I worked for Jake, Carver’s the one who runs the show.

  “Have a seat,” he chuckles.

  “Okay.” The whisper echoes off of the tall walls. “Am I in trouble?” I’ve been waiting for Carver to give me a piece of his mind.

  “How’s packing going?” He nods over his shoulder.

  “Fine.” Does he want me out sooner?

  We watch a bird fly by the window.

  “You’ve met Jake’s mother, Caroline, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, she’s a legend at the club.”

  Carver agrees. “I was a kid the first time I walked in there. Caroline became like a second mother to me. Lord has the answer to why. Jake was enough of a handful and she didn’t need to take another brat on. She loved exotic dancing, which made her different from the rest of the ladies who worked there who had no other options and did it to scrape by. Caroline also was never jealous of the women who drew larger crowds. Ask me how I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because my mother was a headline act. While my mom was out doing all the things I hoped you wouldn’t resort to, Caroline was feeding me dinner at her table. It left a big impression on me.”

  “I can see how it would.”

  “All the money my mother was supposedly making, all the random men who came in and out of our lives, she’d considered her meal ticket. But they also brought pain, heartbreak, and their own addictions along with them to share. It wasn’t that my mother wasn’t smart or capable of being like Caroline, it’s that after one disappointment after another, she gave up.” Carver pauses. “What did you want when Jake hired you?”

  “First to pay my rent.” I laugh, uncomfortably. “Then, watching Kimber graduate and fall in love with Trig, I wanted to prove to myself I could get there too.” I shrug.

  “Did you?” He’s got a smirk and a hint of pride on his face.

  “I got my degree and first professional job, wiiith the help of some good connections.” Carver runs into Dr. Randolph on the golf course a lot.

  “So you didn’t get it all, though, fall in love like Kimber had?” Carver doesn’t wait for my response. “For what it’s worth, Cece, I wish things had worked out between you and Dusty. You’re both adults. I put a lot of faith in the people I let work around here, and I was sorry he chose to resign.”

  “But we broke your rules.”

  “I’ve bent plenty of them for Sloan.” He shakes his head with a goofy grin as if he’d break every single one to make her happy.

  I can’t help the quirk of my lips.

  “You don’t have to leave. Not if you don’t want to. There was never a steadfast deadline for anyone else. You’re welcome as long as you want to stay.”

  “As much as I’ll miss it here, I have to go. I’ve been holding onto the past. It’s not helping me accomplish everything I’d hoped for when you offered me a place to stay.”

  “There’s one thing you haven’t crossed off your list.” He makes the heart shape with his fingers.

  “It’s a moot point now. Dusty won’t forgive me for showing my true colors. I don’t blame him.”

  “Do you love him? Did we blow it for you both?” I hear the remorse in his voice.

  “You
, no. Morgan, probably. Me? Definitely. There was a sliver of truth in the way I reacted, and it proves I’m not ready to fall in love.”

  “I doubt anyone ever is. Maybe the lucky ones, but the rest of us get gobsmacked by it.” Carver pats my knee, reassuring. “Tell me what you need help with.”

  “You’ve done too much already.”

  “Okay then. It’s your turn.”

  My brow furrows, wondering if this is the moment I finally understand the intensity behind Carver’s kindness. “What am I supposed to do for you?”

  “Make sure Sloan knows I did everything in my power to talk you out of going. She’s going to miss you, and no matter what you think, you’re not replaceable. You’ll always be welcome here if you need a place to come home to.”

  I keep the soft chuckle that Sloan put her man up to this to myself. “I will, and thanks for everything. Especially not—”

  “Inserting my nose farther into your private business?” Carver runs a hand over his coiffed hair as he stands and pulls me up.

  “That too.” I give him a brief hug.

  “Tell Skye when those boxes are full. He’ll deliver them to your townhouse.” Carver’s halfway down the steps, back into boss-mode.

  “Thank you,” I repeat. The words of gratitude won’t ever be enough.

  I march my independent behind back down the hall. The first room I pass is Kimber’s and it makes me pause. She’s been gone for years and nobody has taken her place. I turn the knob to look inside. It’s spotless with new bedding and linens in colors Kimber has decorated her house with. She’d love it.

  I close the door, pondering over how all random things she leaves at the mill are down in the second-floor room Trig still keeps. The couple still sneaks down the hall when they are here. The space is overrun with their son’s toys and, next to Jasper and Hailey’s room, it’s where Owen stays when they use Hailey as a sitter.

  “Caroline left a big impression on me.” Those weren’t Carver’s exact words, but they’re close enough.

  Jake’s mom provided a parachute. Caroline caught him when times were the toughest. I finally understand a little of why I’m here and what Carver meant by saying we had a place to come home to.

  Discharged from the hospital, my daughter is symptom free and ready to rejoin her kindergarten class at school. Me? All of a sudden, I’m the freak-show-first-day-of-school parent who can’t cut the apron strings. Driving home misty-eyed, I belittle the choice to leave my baby out in the big wide world defenseless against the attack of ravenous wolves.

  I love my girl with my whole heart, but watching women like Kimber, Aidy, Holly and she-who-won’t-be-named find their callings, I’m also raising her to be independent. This need to protect and have Sylvie near isn’t our norm. But like the doctor said, Strep and influenza when a kid’s gotten a flu shot isn’t part of the everyday percentages.

  I’m not even done triple-counting the number of days Sylvie missed and how many worksheets she’ll have to catch up on tonight when our life hits another speed bump.

  Pulling into the driveway, Renata’s out on the front porch. At first, it seems as if she’s wringing her hands—funny the nasty flashbacks that’s giving me—but as I get out of the cab and approach the front stoop, I realize she’s got her rosary in her hands. She’s praying softly, slipping one bead at a time between the pads of her fingers.

  Sitting down next to her, the old wicker chairs groan under my weight. When it comes down to it, I’m a scientist. I have faith but am not a religious man. However, I have hella respect for those who can give up control and place their lives in the hands of a creator. Renata is one of those people. Her faith is a cornerstone of the woman she is and the choices she makes.

  “Hospice called. Ben’s mother passed.” Her head stays bowed as she speaks to me.

  “She was a wonderful woman.” I place my palm on her knee and send a thankful vibe into the universe. Without Ben’s mother there would have been no Ben, and without Ben I wouldn’t be racking my brain over how to explain to my little girl her grandma has died.

  “She was, Dust. She liked you. Don’t matter what you believed then. Believe it now. After grieving your husband, you can come to understand why death takes one and not another, but the hardest thing ever is coming to grips with your child leaving this earth before you. Any negative feelings she had were never rejection. It was watching you be the man my grandbaby needed that she was so sure she’d get a chance to see Ben be. It’s difficult to let go of what you thought your future was. All those plans up in smoke.”

  Losing Beth solidified Renata’s friendship with Mrs. Yates. They’d been as tight-knit as sisters the past few years. So close, I’m positive Renata was the first person the nurse called with the bad news, even before Renata tells me she’s got to see to the funeral arrangements.

  Most of Mrs. Yates’s last wishes are laid out as beautifully as she is for the wake. Other than fielding phone calls about where to show up and when, my mother-in-law doesn’t have a lot to do past bringing the suit to the funeral parlor that Ben’s mother will be buried in. I give her plenty of space throughout the day, though. We break the news to Sylvie together. She’s got tons of hugs for Renata, and a few more days out of school.

  After the burial, Renata and I sit side by side on hard white plastic chairs. We’ve stayed in the front row so the mourners have time to express their condolences, shake Sylvie’s tiny hand, and tell her what an amazing person her paternal grandmother was.

  I hope Sylvie remembers today. Other than a few distant cousins in attendance, she’s the last of her line. Ben’s family were decent folk. Saying otherwise is a blight on where my baby came from, and I won’t disrespect her like that. Call it fate, or destiny, or God, I’m her father because something or someone out there had the foresight to intertwine my path with Beth’s, allowing me to love a woman who was perfect for me.

  Sylvie keeps taking off the coat I insist she needs to wear, telling us she’s warm enough. I’m certain she’s showing off the pretty dress Renata took her shopping for and I’m overreacting, worrying my daughter’s going to catch something else. She’s happy so I need to chill out and let her continue plucking flowers from each of the floral arrangements, making herself a bouquet from the largest blooms in each one. She’d done a great job of sitting during the service, and everyone wanting to speak to her so kindly made my girl feel like a princess on an extraordinarily sad day.

  Renata dips her head to my shoulder. I turn, planting a kiss on the edge of her black pillbox hat. We’re too caught up remembering what it felt like to lose Beth to do more than plaster on a weak smile. She pats my knee and we stare through the coffin as if it weren’t there at nothing in paricular.

  “I want to talk to the lawyer tomorrow.” Renata keeps her voice low so as not to wake the dead.

  My eyes flick to the engravings on the headstone. Ben’s dad’s name is on the granite with his birth and death dates. His mother’s birth year is there, but nothing else… yet. I look over the headstones, searching to where I know I’ll find Beth. She’s buried in this same cemetery next to her father.

  I’m sort of surprised at Renata’s comment since she was quick to put me down at the hospital and remind me that she was Sylvie’s guardian. I hate admitting there’s been a part of me that worried Renata wouldn’t keep her promise. After all, I’m only the man who cut the cord, not the one who provided half of Sylvie’s DNA. I have no claim to my child.

  I wipe a tear with my knuckle and blame those misgivings on emotional overload. “Do you ever think it’s a shame Beth’s not with Ben?”

  He was laid to rest in the state veteran’s cemetery.

  “No. I’m glad my Beth is with her daddy and that I’ll join them. Some days I regret you won’t lie alongside her when your days are done.” Renata sighs. “Yet, I know someday up in heaven we’ll all be together and it’s what counts, not where our bodies rest.”

  “Ben and Beth were supposed to be it f
or one another.”

  “And they were, for a time. Then you stepped in and Beth found love again. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Renata. All I want is to go home so we can spoil Sylvie.”

  “Which is why I want to get those papers in order. I’m not sick or nothin’, but I won’t waste what time I have left. There’s no sense dragging my feet, waiting to do what we all know is right. You are the only parent Sylvie’s got. The only daddy she’s ever known and Beth wouldn’t forgive me if I let you slip out of Sylvie’s life the way so many others have.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “If you could go back and do it all over knowing what you know now, would you have married Beth sooner?” Renata asks.

  I snuff back. Renata knows the answer. It hadn’t seemed appropriate with Ben’s death so fresh in everyone’s mind. Beth’s mother-in-law didn’t not like me, she simply had a hard time with how fast I’d taken her son’s place. Everyone was trying to heal in their own way. At their own pace. “We talked about it all the time.”

  “And before either of you knew, it was too late. So you’ve spent longer than you and Beth were even a couple, sleeping in my spare room, waiting for a chance to move on with your life and your daughter. At this point, all alone in my golden years, I’d only give my grandchild to a great man. You’re a great man, Dusty. Worthy of the same second chance Beth got.”

  “We won’t leave you.” I choke out as Sylvie hands Renata the haphazard bouquet of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.

  “Yes, you will. But you won’t leave me behind.” Renata’s fingertips brush Sylvie’s chestnut hair and she says a quiet thank you. Her faith has seen her through devastating losses over the past fifteen years. I’m sure her words of gratitude are as much for Sylvie’s gift as the gift of Sylvie.

  We stand and Renata loops her arm through mine, taking Sylvie by the hand. We make the slow march back to the car. The clouds part and the sun warms our backs. I’m never cold and hadn’t realized the shade of the tent we’d sat under had created such a chill.

 

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