A Life Without Flowers Page 6

  “Doing okay, Mom?” she asked.

  Judith pulled a cloth from her pocket and dabbed her forehead. “We should have taken the car.”

  “It’s August in Florida,” Ellen said with a light, dismissive tone. “Bound to be a little warm.”

  “Which is why we should have taken the car,” Judith said again.

  Ellen lifted her arms, and the breeze made her short-sleeve shirtdress flap like a flag in waves of bright pinks, yellows, and oranges. “The sun is shining. The birds are singing.”

  “The sweat is running down my back like a river,” Judith chimed in flatly.

  “I have air conditioning and cold water in the RV,” Carol assured her. “We’re almost there.”

  Judith didn’t seem satisfied. She scowled as her sister continued holding her arms to the sky. “I wish you’d listen to me, Ellen. Just once.”

  Carol smiled as she shook her head. How many hundreds of times had her mother said those exact words to her? Though Judith had given up overtly trying to tell Carol what to do long ago, there was little doubt Judith thought a million times that she wished her daughter would listen. Apparently Ellen needed to listen to Judith’s wisdom as well.

  At the walk-in gate to the campground, Carol entered the code she’d been given at check-in. The lock clicked, and she opened the panel, gesturing for the bickering sisters to go first.

  Ellen stepped in and turned with a bright smile. “Well, isn’t this lovely.”

  The park was well-kept and quiet. Several picnic tables were set up where the three women had entered. On the other side of that was a small play area. There were a few kids on the swings, but most had converged at the pool, both of which, thankfully, were far from the lot assigned to Carol.

  “I can see why you are drawn to this life.” Ellen wrapped her arm around Carol’s.

  Carol was going to have to come clean at some point. She wasn’t drawn to this life. She was using this opportunity to face the wounds that had never healed. This would be okay for a while, but eventually, she’d long for the stability of a home.

  “This isn’t a life,” Judith offered. “This is a permanent vacation and it’s ridiculous.”

  “She’s worked hard for years,” Ellen said. “She’s earned this permanent vacation.”

  “This isn’t a vacation,” Carol said as her stomach rolled. “I’m on a…mission of sorts.”

  Judith scoffed. “What kind of mission?”

  Ellen gave Carol a slight tug, a silent warning that now wasn’t the time. Carol looked at her aunt and received the same grim stare given to Judith when it seemed she was about to back out of the walk.

  “I’m trying to find myself now that Tobias is gone,” Carol said. “I don’t know who I am without him.”

  “And you think you’ll find yourself in some park for nomads?”

  Carol stiffened at the sardonic tone her mother used. She’d heard that voice her entire life. Judith had used that attitude to dismiss her daughter’s feelings over and over again.

  “No,” Carol countered, “I think I’ll figure out what things I need to face in order to make peace with myself. I’d like to enjoy what’s left of my life without this constant sense of guilt and dread.”

  “You’ve been dealt some difficult blows in this life,” Ellen said. “I think it’s wonderful that you are taking time to reflect on things and get your balance.”

  “Well, I think it’s childish,” Judith said.

  Carol rolled her shoulders back. She’d tried. She’d tried so hard not to let her mother light the fuse, but there she went. She could run down the list of things in her life that had left her broken, from her parents’ indifference to Katie’s death to the two miscarriages she’d suffered during her marriage to Tobias to finding out he’d been hit by a truck so hard his spine had snapped and his skull had fractured. Fire burned in her belly as she narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Okay,” Ellen interceded. “This isn’t the time or place to hash this out. Judith, don’t dismiss what Carol has been through. She’s suffered more loss than any one person should deal with.”

  “I didn’t say she hadn’t.”

  Ellen lifted her hand before Carol could add her input. “Everyone heals differently. Carol, it’s okay if this is what you need to do right now. But it is also okay for your mom to worry about you.”

  Carol filled her lungs and counted to five. The fight wasn’t worth the stress. For any of them. “I’m parked right over there.”

  The rest of the walk was silent. And tense.

  As she unlocked the side entry door of her RV, Carol said, “Watch your step. The first one is a bit high.” Once Ellen and Judith were safely inside, Carol looked up at the clear blue sky. “Give me patience, Tobias,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Walking inside, she’d barely finished climbing the stairs before she was met with her mother’s horrified stare.

  Judith’s jaw was slacked, her lips parted, and her eyes wide. Carol was about to ask what she’d done now, but she didn’t have to. She followed her aunt’s gaze to the little dinette table where she’d sat looking over her trip plan the night before. A folded map sat tucked between two urns—John’s and Katie’s.

  “What in God’s name is going on with you?” Judith asked with a strained voice. “Have you lost your mind? Why are there…urns on your table, Caroline?”

  Carol had to bite back the sarcasm begging to rush forth. The words nearly spilled from her lips. Why, who else would I dine with, Mother? Instead, she took the vessels and carried them to a cabinet.

  “Cremation is a very common choice—” Ellen started.

  “Stop,” Judith insisted. She huffed out a breath and shook her head. “You left those on your table with…human…bodies inside?”

  “Human remains,” Carol said flatly. “Yes.”

  Judith looked like she was going to be sick as she put one trembling hand to her lips and the other to her stomach.

  After Carol secured the urns inside a cabinet, she gestured toward the table, silently asking them to sit in the bench seat. Ellen took the cue, but Judith stood, ramrod straight, as if she had no intention of moving at all.

  Carol tugged her hat off and slid into the empty bench seat at the table. “John asked me to spread his ashes with Katie’s.”

  Judith, as expected, reacted by taking a sharp breath and swaying on her feet. “You have,” Judith said definitively. “You’ve lost your mind. You need help.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Judith shook her head. “This isn’t normal.”

  “Mom. For God’s sake, listen to me.” She glanced at her aunt for help, but the way Ellen’s lips were pressed into a scowl made it clear she wouldn’t be getting any. “I promised John I would spread his and Katie’s ashes together in places they would have enjoyed visiting.”

  “You don’t owe him—”

  “I do,” Carol stated, cutting Judith off. “I do owe him, Mom. And I owe Katie and myself. I’m not rehashing this with you. We’ve already fought about it.”

  “You’ve let him manipulate you again.”

  Carol swallowed the kneejerk response, the urge to engage. Instead, she softened her face and did her best to look amicable. “The next stop on my list is Disney World. I was planning to ease you into this, but… I would like for you to join me and maybe say a few words for Katie.”

  “Oh, for the love of all that is holy,” Ellen muttered.

  Judith fell back two steps until she hit the kitchenette with her lower back. The pans in the cabinet below clinked from the vibrations. Though the RV was one of the compact models, there had always been ample space for Carol and Tobias. However, with her mother looming inside, the RV suddenly felt too small. The dark floor and cabinets had never seemed overpowering to Carol before, but being in this place with her mother, the living area made her feel borderline claustrophobic.

  “You cannot dump human remains at an amusement park, Caro
line!” Judith said, clearly horrified.

  Carol fought the urge to roll her eyes at the dramatics. “I’m not going to take an urn on a rollercoaster, Mother. I’ll take a little bit of the ash—”

  Judith’s eyes grew even wider. “Stop! This is insane.”

  “No, it’s not. People do this all the time.”

  Judith furrowed her brow. “And how do you… How are you… She’s in an urn. How are you…”

  Carol lifted her hands, recalling all too well how queasy she’d been the first time John scooped Katie’s ashes into a small container. She couldn’t say she was any more comfortable with the process now, but at least she didn’t want to vomit when she had to fill the containers. “That’s not important,” she said. “What’s important is that Katie would have loved going to Disney. I won’t leave them anywhere that someone might accidentally come into contact with them. I’ll find a nice grassy spot outside the park and—”

  “Enough!” Judith closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Oh, my God, Carol. Is this what you’ve been doing with your life?”

  “Letting go is part of the healing process, Mom.”

  Dropping her hand, Judith gawked at her. “I don’t think ‘letting go’ was meant to be taken so literally.”

  Carol nearly giggled at her mother’s observation. Judith would never be known for her sense of humor, but that comment had been amusing.

  “Do you think this is funny?” Judith whispered.

  Grinding her teeth to stop from smirking, Carol looked across the small space. “No. I think your overreaction is funny.”

  “Overreaction?” Judith repeated, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

  “This is not nearly as unusual as you seem to think it is.”

  “That is your daughter in there.” She gestured wildly at the cabinet where Carol had put the urns.

  The delight Carol had found left in an instant. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “How can you be so nonchalant about this?”

  “I ran away from this for twenty-four years. I don’t consider that being nonchalant.” She rubbed her fingertips into her temples, reminding herself to be patient, before dropping her hands on the table and clasping them together. “Mom, this is how John and I planned to say goodbye to her all those years ago. This is how he wanted me to say goodbye to him. I’m honoring them by taking them to places—”

  “It’s wrong,” Judith said.

  “No. It’s not. They both wanted to see the world. I’m doing what I can to make that happen for them.”

  “They aren’t seeing the world, Carol. They’re dead.”

  She hadn’t expected her mother to understand, so she didn’t know why those words stung her. Carol swallowed her anger, more than ready to tell her mother to burn in hell, but Judith threw her hands up and marched out of the RV. Carol had forgotten her aunt was there, watching the entire scene unfold, until she looked across the table. “I’m not apologizing for spreading my daughter’s ashes.”

  “And she’s not going to apologize for disagreeing with you. So where does that leave you?”

  Carol shrugged. “With no middle ground. As usual.”

  Ellen didn’t seem to have anything else to say. She pushed herself up and started for the door. “Dinner is at seven. I expect to see you there.”

  Caroline couldn’t quite understand what her mother was saying. She was beyond numb. She was discombobulated. Her mind was outside her body, and nothing felt real. A nurse had given her a shot within minutes of learning that Katie had died. The drugs were still coursing through her veins, making her mind swim in a cloud of nothingness.

  John and Caroline had waited what seemed like a lifetime to find out if their daughter would be okay. But Caroline was a nurse. She knew it had been mere minutes that doctors had tried to revive Katie before pronouncing her dead. They’d been led to a room where Katie was lying on a bed. Caroline had held her daughter and cried until John had pulled her away. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Everything was a blur.

  Caroline wasn’t thinking clearly enough to even realize their parents needed to be told. All she could think was that Katie was gone. Katie was never going to wake up again. Katie was never going to laugh or sing or beg for one more bedtime story again. Katie was never going to sneak into her bed to cuddle again.

  Katie was never going to do anything again.

  John had driven them straight to her parents’ house. He said he wanted to get this over with. Caroline hadn’t argued. She couldn’t. Her throat was raw from screaming. Her mind was outside her body. She hadn’t even realized where he was going until he parked behind her father’s car. She couldn’t really remember walking into the house, but there she was, in the sterile living room she’d avoided as much as possible all her life.

  Judith grabbed Caroline by the arm and pushed her onto their sofa next to John.

  “Caroline, what is going on?” Judith demanded. “You’re scaring me.”

  John sniffled, and Caroline looked at him, waiting for him to answer. He didn’t. He wiped tears from the side of his nose as she watched, thinking it was the first time she’d ever seen him cry. At least when he was sober. He’d cried plenty of times when he was drunk off his ass and she’d threatened to leave him.

  “Caroline!” Judith screamed.

  She jolted, turned her eyes to her mother, and noticed the fear on Judith’s face. Opening her mouth, she tried to find the words. Katie died. Katie’s dead. Katie… She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t.

  Dropping onto the couch beside Caroline, Judith stared at her. “What happened?”

  “She… She’s gone,” Caroline managed to say.

  “Who’s gone?”

  Caroline knew the moment her mother figured out what she was saying. Tears sprang to Judith’s eyes. Odd. Caroline had never seen her cry, either. Her face, the one that always seemed so filled with animosity, sagged and her cheeks lost their color.

  “Who is gone?” Judith demanded.

  “K-K-Katie.” The word tumbled from Caroline’s lips, and her eyes started to fill as well. “Katie’s…gone.”

  “Gone where?” Judith whispered.

  “She…”

  “She died,” John spit out. “Katie died.”

  Judith stared at Caroline, as if she expected her daughter to counter what John had said. A fat tear fell from her right eye and rolled down her cheek. Caroline was mesmerized by the light shining from the little stream. But then she sensed the shift. The concern and shock switched to anger so quickly it would have shocked anyone who hadn’t grown up anticipating these abrupt changes in the woman.

  Instead of unleashing at her daughter, Judith turned her rage to her son-in-law. “What did you do, you bastard? What did you do?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “What’s going on in here?” Dennis boomed from the doorway of the living room.

  A heart-wrenching sob left Judith. A sound Caroline had never heard before, hadn’t known her mother was capable of. A sound that was so human it took her by surprise. Was that how she’d sounded when she’d heard the news? She remembered screaming. She remembered her knees buckling and falling. She remembered someone catching her before she hit the floor and voices trying to calm her.

  Had she sounded like that? So…raw? So broken?

  The sound reverberated around her, cut through the numbness of the drugs, and made the fist around her heart clench again. Made her tears return.

  “What have you done?” Dennis demanded, rushing to his wife.

  “Katie,” Judith sobbed. “Oh my God. Katie.”

  Caroline couldn’t look at her father. All her life, she’d cowered before him. Now was no different. Now was worse. She had failed a thousand times in their eyes, but nothing could compare to this. Nothing could compare to this failure. Her failure to keep her child alive.

  Judith said something, but Caroline embraced the numbness again. She embraced not hearin
g, not feeling. She tapped into that void she’d learned to disappear into when she was a child. Her father couldn’t get to her there. His hateful words couldn’t break her there.

  Not that there was anything left of her to be broken.

  Her father spoke. She didn’t hear the words, but his voice vibrated through her like a tornado. The deep timbre was familiar. He was displeased, unhappy, furious. And he was directing that rage toward her. But she wasn’t listening.

  She had her own rage brewing inside her.

  Turning to John, for the first time, she realized how deeply her hatred for him ran. How every fiber of her being wanted to crush him with her rage.

  That must be how her father felt. The ire that he was barely containing all her life. That must have been how she’d learned to contain her hatred for John for so long. Like she’d learned to hide behind a wall by watching her mother, she’d learned from her father how to bury her hate.

  John said something. He glared up at her parents and said something, but Caroline wasn’t hearing them. She was so incensed herself. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the sofa and out the door. He took long strides, half dragging her behind him, until he helped her into his beat-up car.

  He muttered something and hit the accelerator so hard his tires screamed as he backed out of their driveway. Caroline didn’t know what had happened. Actually, she did. Her parents had happened. She hadn’t heard the details, hadn’t needed to. She understood the gist.

  Her parents were placing blame without even knowing the full story.

  “It’s not our fault,” John said. “It was an accident. Do you hear me, Caroline? Do you hear me?”

  She nodded, muttered a response even she didn’t understand. Then sank into the darkness of her mind again.

  The tension inside the townhouse was unmistakable. The air was alive with anxiety the moment Carol walked inside. Her stomach turned sour as she set down a backpack of clothes and personal belongings. She didn’t know if her mom and aunt would still want her to stay at the house, but if she showed up emptyhanded, she’d be setting them up for another round of arguments.