A Life Without Flowers Page 2

  Ellen gasped. “Were you with him?”

  An unexpected prick of tears stung the back of Carol’s eyes. “Yeah, I was holding his hand. He said Katie was there too. I believe him because I swear, I felt her waiting to take him…wherever. It was very serene, and I’m glad I was there for him.”

  Carol was pulled from her moment of recollection when Judith let out a bitter half laugh. She glared at Carol, her eyes burning bright and hot with anger. The way she stood taller, shook her head, and pressed her lips tight let Carol know she was having an internal debate. If history proved true, she’d say what she was thinking, no matter how hurtful her words might be.

  Judith’s voice came out strained, as if saying the words cut at her throat. “He didn’t deserve to die in peace after everything he did.”

  “Don’t say that,” Ellen chastised.

  Judith didn’t seem to hear her sister’s warning. “Why in God’s name would you let him back into your life after all these years?”

  Tightening her jaw, Carol waited until the urge to lash out eased. “I spent a good deal of the time reminding him of the role he played in Katie’s death.” Carol still felt shame over that, even though John had assured her he understood her anger. “He made so many mistakes, and I rubbed his nose in every one of them until…”

  “Until what?” Ellen coaxed.

  Twisting her wedding band, drawing on Tobias for strength, Carol said, “When John first showed up, all that anger boiled over. Everything he said gave me an opening to throw the past in his face. Then, one day I was lashing out at him, and I realized a very ugly truth.”

  “What truth?” Judith narrowed her eyes, as if daring her daughter to defend John.

  Carol hesitated. “I carry as much responsibility for what happened to Katie as he did.”

  “No,” Ellen stated firmly, “you do not.”

  “I knew his drinking was out of control, but I trusted him with our daughter anyway. I was wrong to think he could take care of her.”

  Ellen crossed the kitchen and put her fingers under Carol’s chin, gently forcing her to look up. “You listen to me. You are not responsible for what happened to your little girl. You weren’t even home.”

  Carol appreciated Ellen’s attempt at easing her guilt, but she’d already come to terms with the truth. Katie’s death was an accident. One that could have been avoided if she and John hadn’t been too young and naïve to face their problems head on. They’d both fallen into a cycle of denial about his addiction that contributed to a horrible outcome.

  Clutching Ellen’s hands, Carol said, “I knew John was an alcoholic, and I ignored it. I could have done things differently. I could have been stronger. I could have forced him to get help. But I never put my foot down because I was tired of always being the bad guy. I didn’t fight when I should have.”

  Ellen shook her head. “He was the addict.”

  “And I was the enabler.”

  “You were a wonderful mother,” Ellen said. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

  Carol offered her a soft smile. “I haven’t forgotten. But being a good mother doesn’t make me blameless.”

  Judith interrupted the sweet moment with the same frigid voice she’d used before. “You always did let that man get into your head and twist you around.”

  As if reminded they weren’t alone, Ellen stepped back, clearing the way for Carol to look at her mother.

  The fire in Judith’s eyes hadn’t died, but she’d clearly put up the wall she was so good at hiding behind. She used that mechanism to keep the world, including her daughter, on the outside of her emotions. Carol had learned how to do the same. She’d hidden behind her walls for far too long.

  The muscles in Judith’s jaw flexed several times before she spoke. “God knows your father and I tried to talk sense into you. You wouldn’t listen.”

  “You may not have liked John,” Carol said calmly, “but without him, I wouldn’t have had Katie. I wouldn’t change that for anything. Would you?”

  Her words hit her mother’s heart. Carol knew by the slight jolt that caused her to sway.

  Judith threw up her hands before walking away.

  Ellen frowned at Carol. “That wasn’t called for, Carol. You know she loved Katie.”

  Shame made her lower her face. “I know. I’ll apologize.”

  Carol pushed herself up and went in search of her mother. She found her in the living room, staring out the window, shutting out the world around her as she tended to do when she was frustrated with her daughter, which was most of the time.

  Caroline had done everything she could to avoid what was about to happen. She finally had something good in her life. The last thing she wanted to do was share it with her parents. Their disinterested reaction to her announcement about inviting John to dinner had been more than enough to let her know this wasn’t going to go well.

  Her father had heaved the same loud, disappointed sound he’d done whenever she told him she didn’t want to do what he insisted was best for her. The first time she’d understood the sigh was a reflection of his dissatisfaction with her was when she was in eighth grade and told her parents she didn’t want to continue with piano lessons. She’d been going to lessons since she was seven and hated them just as much as the first time her parents had dragged her to old Mrs. Jackson’s house, which was too hot and always smelled like burned toast.

  Caroline wanted to learn to paint, to live in a world of imagination and fun, like her aunt. Her dad had pressed his lips together at her declaration and given her that unimpressed look he was so good at before informing her she would continue learning to play the piano.

  Apparently, spending most of her schooling on the honor roll, winning science fairs, and constantly being praised by her teachers meant nothing if she didn’t have the skillset to be a concert pianist.

  “This is where you grew up?” John asked with the same amazed voice he used whenever he learned something new about her.

  “Yeah,” Caroline said, lacking his enthusiasm.

  He laughed. “I can see you here. Running around the front yard with your hair in pigtails.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to run,” she said, looking through his cracked windshield at the brick ranch. “That’s how accidents happen. And I never wore pigtails. Mom thought they were primitive.”

  “Primitive? Like cavemen wore them?”

  She faced him. “Like uncultured simpletons wore them. Are you sure you want to do this, John?”

  His smile returned. “Yeah. I have to meet your parents sometime. We’ve been dating for almost six months, babe. You can’t hide me forever.”

  “I’m not trying to hide you. I’m trying to protect you.”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, easing some of her anxiety. He had a way of making her feel safe. She didn’t want to lose that, but she couldn’t deny how much she feared he’d run away from her by the end of the evening.

  “I’m the cop, remember?” he asked. “I’m the protector here. Come on.”

  He opened his door and climbed out. Caroline gnawed at her lip as she waited for him to rush around the front bumper and open the door for her. She’d told him a hundred times she didn’t need him to do that, but John was a gentleman. So he said. She had come to think he insisted on opening her door so he could use the close proximity to steal a kiss. She didn’t complain though. The little things he did made her feel more treasured than she ever had before.

  True to his habit, he opened the door, reached in to help her stand, and then planted a kiss on her lips. She smiled and silently hoped he really did love her enough to deal with whatever her parents tossed at him. She’d never brought a boyfriend home before. She’d never had a boyfriend before.

  “Shoes off,” she whispered as she closed the front door behind them.

  He looked down at the loafers she’d polished for him earlier. He thought she was being nice, but she feared her father would see the scuffs and add it to t
he list of reasons he’d find to disapprove of John. Appearance was everything to Dennis Stewart. If a man couldn’t take the time to take care of himself, how could he be trusted to take care of anything else?

  She skimmed over John’s attire one more time. He had borrowed the sport coat from his father, so it was a bit too large, but Caroline thought that could be overlooked. He wasn’t swimming in the material. She straightened his tie until the knot was centered.

  “Come on,” John coaxed, gently nudging her to leave the foyer.

  They found her father on the light gray sofa reading the evening paper as scents of meatloaf filled the air. The scene would have been right out of a 1950s TV show if her parents had the capacity to be as nice as Ward and June Cleaver.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said tentatively. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I’d like you to meet John.”

  Dennis let out one of his big breaths before he even lowered the paper. A deep frown met them when his face became visible, reminding her that her life in this house had never been a lighthearted television show. Her father didn’t even bother trying to smile when he looked at the man standing next to his daughter. John stepped forward and held out his hand, causing Dennis to fold his paper and set it aside.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stewart,” John said.

  Caroline couldn’t see John’s face, but she could picture his big smile clearly. The smile that made most people smile in return. John was so kind and approachable. Most people were drawn to him like bees to flowers on a bright spring day. Her father stared at John’s hand as if it were contaminated before standing and puffing out his chest.

  Caroline shrank inside, but John stood taller and kept his hand out. No doubt he was asserting his own brand of authority. He was a cop; he knew when someone was trying to intimidate him. He seemed to understand that if he showed weakness, her father would go in for the proverbial kill.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” John said again, more loudly, like someone might do to a person with a hearing impairment. Then he pushed his hand closer to Caroline’s father.

  In the most amazing display Caroline had ever witnessed, her father relented. He shook John’s hand briefly.

  “Caroline said she was bringing someone to dinner,” Dennis said flatly.

  “My name is John Bowman,” he said, as if her father didn’t know.

  He did. She’d said she was bringing John to dinner. John Bowman. The man she’d been dating for six months. The man she had come to care about very much.

  The fact that her father hadn’t even cracked a hint of a smile wasn’t lost on her. He’d already dismissed John. Already counted him as a lost cause. She didn’t know why she was hurt by his behavior, but her heart ached in a way that was too familiar. She’d disappointed him. Again.

  Even though John didn’t seem fazed, she wanted to hug him and tell him he was worthy of her. Despite the way her father was frowning.

  “Hello,” Judith said from behind them.

  Caroline turned, hoping her mother would be more civil. “Mom, this is John.”

  John crossed the room, hand out, and offered her the same proper handshake he’d offered her father. Her mother put on the frozen smile she tended to wear, but at least she’d smiled. However, she held up her hands and showed John the old oven mitts she was wearing. As if she couldn’t remove them to greet him.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stewart,” John said, once again seeming undeterred by the rude welcome he was receiving.

  “You too,” she said but then looked over his shoulder at her husband. “Dinner is ready.”

  Dennis bypassed John and Caroline to head to the dining room. The fact he hadn’t even acknowledged his daughter wasn’t lost on her. Apparently it wasn’t lost on John either. He put his hand on her shoulder, gave her a squeeze, and nodded for them to follow.

  At the table, John pulled a chair out for her like a perfect gentleman. She smiled her thanks and glanced at her mother, hoping to see her approval for John’s behavior. Judith hadn’t noticed. Her focus on the meatloaf exceeded what was necessary. Caroline got the message loud and clear. John wasn’t welcome, and they were irritated with her for forcing them to entertain him.

  Judith served dinner—Dennis first, then Caroline, and then she handed a plate to John—with a somber expression.

  “This looks delicious,” John said. “Thank you for inviting me to join you.”

  “Caroline invited you,” Dennis clarified, causing his daughter’s heart to drop.

  The tension around the table went up about three notches, and Caroline’s stomach twisted so tightly she couldn’t possibly eat.

  John, however, smiled as if her father hadn’t all but said he didn’t want this stranger at his table. “Yes, she did. Since we’ve been dating for a while now, we both thought it was time I met her parents.”

  “How long is a while?” Judith asked. “Our daughter isn’t exactly forthcoming with information these days.”

  Here we go, Caroline thought. “Mom, I told you about John after our second date.”

  “And you’ve barely said a word about him since,” Judith stated.

  Caroline returned her hard stare. “I wonder why.”

  “Don’t get sassy,” Dennis warned.

  “Stop being impolite,” Caroline volleyed back. Her heart thumped against her chest as fear sent a surge of adrenaline through her. She could count on one hand the times she’d spoken up to her father.

  Dennis tilted his head back, looking down his sharp nose at her with his steely gray eyes before focusing on his dinner. The tension grew, and Caroline felt like she was dying with every minute that dragged on.

  John did his best to win her parents over. He asked questions about her father’s company and complimented her mother on their home. He was met with curt answers and forced smiles every time.

  They were about ten minutes into the awkward meal when Dennis said, “Caroline says you’re a police officer.”

  “Yes, sir,” John said, still smiling as if he were unaware of the thunderstorm brewing around him. “I’ve been protecting the great city of Dayton for a little over five years now.”

  “Five… How old are you?” Judith demanded.

  “I applied to the police academy right out of high school, ma’am.”

  “That doesn’t answer her question,” Dennis stated.

  For the first time, John seemed a bit shaken. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “Caroline is only nineteen,” her father boomed. His pale cheeks turned red and his eyes narrowed. “She’s a child.”

  “No, sir,” John answered, calm and collected with the experience of an officer trying to defuse a situation before it started. “She’s an adult.”

  Dennis threw his cloth napkin on the table as he glared at John. “Nineteen is hardly adulthood.”

  “I’m in college.” Caroline couldn’t think of any other way to validate her age and maturity but felt that should be enough.

  “That doesn’t make you grown.” Dennis focused on John. “What are your intentions with our daughter?”

  “Dad!”

  John put his hand on Caroline’s. “I love your daughter, Mr. Stewart.”

  “What do you know of love?” Judith asked with that exasperation she used when she was exhausted from trying to talk sense into Caroline.

  John looked at Judith. “I know that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I know that Caroline is the kindest, most supportive woman I’ve ever known. I know that someday, when she’s ready, we’ll start planning a future together.”

  John had said all those things to Caroline before, but for some reason, she hadn’t really believed them until he’d shared his plan with her parents.

  “Caroline isn’t ready for that,” Judith offered. “She isn’t as mature as other girls.”

  Caroline jerked her face toward her mother. “What?”

  “You’re not. You’re…shy and emotionally underdeveloped. You’re
not prepared for the things he might be prepared for.”

  The heat of humiliation rushed to Caroline’s cheeks. Sex. Her mother was saying, in front of John, that Caroline wasn’t ready for sex. “I’m in college,” she said again.

  “You’re still a child,” her father stated.

  Caroline wanted to cry. Her parents had humiliated her plenty in her life, but this was worse. Way worse. They were intentionally undermining her in front of John. “Thank you for dinner, but I think we should go,” she said as she stood.

  “Caroline,” her mother called, but she didn’t stop.

  “It was nice meeting you,” John said from behind her.

  By the time they reached the front door, hot tears had filled Caroline’s eyes. John slipped his shoes on in silence and opened the door for her, as he always did. She was outside before she was able to inhale again. When she did, her intake was a gasping hiccup.

  “Hey.” John’s voice came out so soft and soothing, Caroline nearly crumbled. He pulled her against him and enveloped her in one of his big bear hugs, reminding her that even if her parents rejected everything about her, he wanted her. He accepted her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He hugged her closer. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I told you it would be terrible.”

  “They’ll come around,” he said. “They’re trying to protect you.”

  She pulled away from him. “No, John. They’re trying to keep me locked in a box. They always have. I’m not stupid.”

  He used his thumbs to wipe her cheeks. “No, you’re not, baby. I promise. You’re great. Perfect. They’re overprotective, that’s all.”

  “No, John, they’re autocrats.”

  That adorable lopsided grin curved his lips. “I don’t know what that means.”

  She laughed slightly. “They’re bossy.”

  “So say they’re bossy, smarty pants.”

  The way he smiled made her believe he’d known all along what she was saying. He was trying to make her feel better. In that moment, she knew what she had already suspected: she was head over heels in love with this man, and nothing her parents did could change that.