A Life Without Flowers Page 9
Rolling onto her side, Carol buried her face in Judith’s stomach. Part of her expected the woman to shoo her away. This was not a normal practice for them. She’d learned long ago that raw emotions made her mom uncomfortable. However, Judith brushed her hand over her Carol’s back and hushed her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job taking care of you when you lost Tobias,” Judith said. “I… I guess I thought I should let Mary do it.”
Carol bit her lip as she considered the situation. “I don’t know how receptive I would have been, to be honest. Angry as I was, I think I would have taken that out on you without meaning to.”
Judith let out a wry laugh. “Carol, we always take things out on each other. It wouldn’t have been anything new, would it?”
“No. I guess not. But my anger during that time was ugly, Mom. It’s best that Mary was there for me then, but I really need you now.”
Though the few pats that Judith put on Carol’s shoulder were stiff, she appreciated them. This was probably the most maternal moment they’d ever had, and she was going to soak it in because, given their turbulent history, this might never happen again.
Five
No matter how many deep, cleansing breaths Carol took, she couldn’t clear her mind. Sitting in half-lotus, inhaling and exhaling, she did her best to focus on nothing. A breeze caused a few strands of her hair to dance across her cheek, tickling her until she swiped them away. The grass beneath her began to feel prickly and made her exposed calves itch. The chatter of neighbors enjoying the outdoors on the other side of the privacy fence distracted her.
Focus, damn it, she told herself.
A bug buzzed dangerously close to her face, as if to mock her attempt at ignoring the world around her.
As much as she hated to admit it, she knew why she was having a hard time clearing her mind. She and her mother had taken a huge step forward earlier in the morning. For the first time she could recall, she had hope that they could find a way to connect. Hope, however, could be dashed in a heartbeat. If she could find a way to dismantle the rest of the wall between them before the old cycle started up again, they might be able to have a good relationship. One that wasn’t based on bulldozing each other’s feelings.
“How long are you going to sit like that?” Judith asked, her voice rife with impatience.
Then again…
Carol opened her eyes and blew out yet another failed attempt at mindful breathing. “I was trying to meditate.”
“Ellen and I want to go to the store. We’ve been waiting for you to come in. And you’re just”—Judith gestured with her hand—“sitting there.”
“That’s what mediation is, Mom.” Carol pressed her palms into the grass to push herself up to stand and then brushed her hands together. There was nothing to clear away; she needed the distraction to remind herself not to be snippy. She hadn’t slept well, she’d had a minor meltdown, and she’d yet to find a way to stop her thoughts from racing back to Tobias’s death.
However, she wasn’t going to backpedal on the progress she and her mother had made so quickly.
“It wasn’t working anyway,” Carol said, heading toward the screen door where Judith had appeared.
“What you need is a midmorning margarita,” Ellen suggested as she joined Judith.
The scowl that caused Judith’s lips to turn downward nearly made Carol laugh. At least she could still find amusement in the nonstop antics of her aunt.
“Only alcoholics drink in the morning.” Judith stepped aside so Carol could slide the screen door open and join them inside.
“And retirees with nothing better to do.” Ellen looped her arm around Carol’s. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ll add limes to the shopping list. I haven’t had a fresh margarita in ages.”
“She doesn’t need a drink,” Judith insisted. “It isn’t even noon yet.”
“She’s had a rough morning.”
This back and forth would continue, and likely escalate, if someone didn’t put an end to it.
“Perhaps with dinner,” Carol suggested. “I believe it’s my turn to cook. How about chicken fajitas and fresh margaritas?”
Ellen clapped her hands and let out a little squeal, but Judith didn’t respond.
“Would you like something else?” Carol asked.
“I don’t like spicy food. Or margaritas. You know that.” Judith reached for her bag, turning her back on the pair. “You both know that.”
Instead of pointing out that the fajitas didn’t have to be spicy or that no one would force her to drink a margarita, Carol conceded. “Okay. How about steaks and red wine? You like red wine.”
“We should get a few potatoes for sides,” Judith said.
“And bacon,” Ellen added. “I love bacon on potatoes.”
When Judith remained silent, Carol tilted her head, waiting for her mother to disagree. Instead, she made a point of skimming over Carol’s attire. Glancing down at her gray cropped yoga pants and fitted pink T-shirt, Carol confirmed nothing about her outfit was inappropriate or shocking. Nothing sordid was visible. But she knew that look. Mother didn’t approve.
Part of her wanted to push back. She looked fine. Certainly good enough to go to the store. Her outfit was perfectly acceptable. However, for the sake of the growth they’d had, she said, “I’ll be right back,” and headed toward the spare room to change.
“She looks fine,” Ellen said as Carol left the room.
“She looks like a mess.”
Carol closed the door on the sisters’ debate. Yesterday they’d bickered about the straw hat. Today it was yoga pants and a fitted shirt. Maybe she’d shave her head tomorrow and see what they had to say about that. She could imagine. Her mother would be horrified, and even Ellen would likely have a hard time finding words defending the choice.
After changing into a sundress and sandals, Carol went to the bathroom to freshen up. Though she didn’t have much makeup in her arsenal these days, she did add mascara and lip gloss. She brushed out her shoulder-length hair and then took a moment to scan for the ever-encroaching gray strands. She did her best not to obsess, but she was aware of how her eyes were getting more crinkled and a few more age spots had settled on her pale skin.
Thanks to a regular exercise routine, she was fit and trim overall, but her fifty-one-year-old body was starting to show a few undeniable signs of…maturing. That was a good word for the subtle changes taking place. The increasing freckles, the deepening lines, the softer waistline, the graying of her hair were all signs of maturing.
Carol gave her head a firm shake, intent on dislodging the negativity taking hold. She’d been around her mother for two days and old insecurities were resurfacing already. Her father used to tell her that the dumbest person in the world could seem smart if he wore the right suit. Judith kept the house immaculate on the off chance a neighbor might stop by unannounced.
Cleanliness was no joke in the Stewart household. Outward appearances were taken seriously. Carol had grown up wearing the best clothing her parents could afford. Unfortunately for her, that didn’t mean they were the most stylish clothes available. Not that she would have known what to do with stylish clothing during her geeky and awkward youth.
Though she’d done her best to rebuff her parents’ ridiculous standards, she’d never quite shaken the need to pay special attention to her appearance and her surroundings. As the years went on, she and Tobias collected beautiful things. Their home was impeccable. She made certain they always had the right suits in the right colors. She knew how to dress to impress, even for casual events, and spent far too much of her budget on salons and shopping.
She’d never considered that might have been because of her parents’ expectations of her. She and Tobias had both been executives with big companies. They’d had important jobs and had to look the part. Standing there now, however, less than a month into retirement and already criticizing her unpolished appearance, she had to consider the need to look perfect had been eng
rained more deeply into her that she’d wanted to admit. That maybe the effort she’d put into her appearance all these years was Caroline whispering in the back of her mind that she still wasn’t enough.
“Piss off,” she told the nagging voice before walking away from her reflection.
Carol’s life was finally getting back on track. She was engaged to a wonderful man and had been accepted into a doctorate program. She was going to be a doctor. Like her parents always wanted. For some foolish reason, she thought her mother would be happy for her. She’d called to share her good news as soon as she’d read the congratulatory letter from the school dean, but the silence on the line was tense. Even from several hundred miles away, Carol could sense her mother’s disapproval.
“I don’t understand,” Judith said.
“Don’t understand what?” Carol asked.
“You were going to be a pediatrician. I’ve told everyone how you were going back to school to be a pediatrician.”
Carol furrowed her brow with confusion. “Mom, I told you two years ago I needed to change direction.”
Carol had been a pediatric nurse for years, but the first time she’d had to treat a patient after Katie died, she’d frozen. The guilt of not being able to save her daughter kept her from even treating someone else’s. She’d been transferred to helping adult patients, but she no longer had what it took to be a pediatric nurse. The stress of having young lives depending on her was too much following the trauma of losing Katie.
“But… I thought you’d change your mind, Carol. You always wanted to be a doctor.”
“I’m still going to be a doctor,” she said.
“Of medical science. What does that even mean?”
Carol sank onto the couch in the apartment she and Tobias were sharing as the excitement faded. Like a child watching her balloon float away, a sense of disappointment settled over her. However, the disappointment wasn’t directed at her mother. She was disappointed in herself for letting her mom do this to her again and so soon after discounting her engagement to Tobias.
She had recently told Tobias about Katie and the loss that haunted her every thought. Once she’d opened up to him about that, she was able to tell him about her marriage to John and how he’d spent years thwarting her every attempt at going back to medical school. But after losing her daughter, Carol no longer wanted to be a doctor. She didn’t know what she wanted.
Tobias had encouraged her to finish her doctorate, even if she could no longer be a pediatrician. He’d told her that even if the direction had changed, the goal hadn’t. She would have thought her parents would be thankful to him for that.
Carol had overcome so much in the last few years. For the first time since leaving Dayton, she believed she could have a future, no matter how empty it might feel without her daughter. She’d found her footing. One might think that would be enough. However, she could hear in her mother’s voice it wasn’t. Nothing was ever enough.
Why had she bothered making this call in the first place?
“Nothing, Mom,” she said softly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Don’t be like that,” Judith snapped. “I just don’t understand. What are you going to do with an advanced degree in medical science?”
“I don’t know.” Even if she did know, she wouldn’t have shared her plans so her mother could disapprove of them. “Mary is planning an engagement party next month. Do you want to come?”
Judith’s dramatic exhale filled the line. “All the way to St. Louis? For a party, Carol? We can’t drop everything because you ask us to. I would think you’d understand that by now.”
Carol picked at a string on the couch pillow. “I do, Mom. I wanted to ask, that’s all.”
“If you want us involved in your activities, you should come home,” Judith stated.
“My activities? This isn’t the debate team. It’s a celebration of my upcoming marriage.”
Silence.
Carol rolled her head back, knowing what was coming. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. Her parents didn’t approve of Tobias. They hadn’t outright said they didn’t want her to marry him, but she had anticipated the reaction. After the first time they’d met him, her mother chastised her for not warning them ahead of time that she was dating a Black man. Now she was marrying him.
Ever since that first meeting, her mom had been dropping subtle hints that Carol was making yet another mistake. Accepting Tobias’s proposal had increased the instances of her mom telling her she needed to come home. She didn’t seem to understand that Carol was home. For the first time in her life, she had a home where she wanted to be. Where she fit.
“I understand how difficult things have been for you,” Judith said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to rush into another marriage.”
“I’m not rushing.”
“How long have you and Tobias been a couple?”
Falling back on the sofa, Carol looked at a crack in the ceiling. “Over a year.”
“How long were you with John before you married him?”
John. Everything always came back to John. They would never let her forget the mistakes of her past. Even when she was making strides to have a better life. “I have to go, Mom.”
“Carol,” she called.
Carol hung up the phone. Almost immediately, her mother called back. She knew it was her mother. Calling to lecture her for the rude goodbye. Carol didn’t answer. She’d had enough of her mother undermining her for one day. Putting her hand to her head, she ground her teeth and forced her tears away. After inhaling to the count of five and exhaling the same way, she read the letter of acceptance again.
Once the phone stopped its second round of ringing, she lifted the handset and punched in the numbers to call Tobias’s mother.
“Hello?” Mary’s sweet voice sounded.
Carol smiled, instantly soothed by the tenderness. “Hey, it’s Carol.”
“How are you, baby?”
The difference between this and the greeting she’d received from her mother was night and day. Light and dark. Love and obligation.
“Tobias is out with Elijah, but I have to tell someone before I burst,” Carol said. “I guess you get to hear the news before he does.”
Mary gasped. “Did you get into your program?” Her excitement was real and reignited the pride Carol had initially felt. Before calling her mother.
Closing her eyes, Carol forced away the lingering disappointment from the last call. “I did.”
“Oh, Carol! I am so proud of you. Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you go anywhere. I’m on my way over. We’re going to go celebrate.”
Carol laughed. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”
She put the phone in the cradle, and her smile faded. Why couldn’t her mom be like that? Why couldn’t her mom, just once, be happy for her without judgement? She was tempted to call her mom back, tell her how shitty she was, how she always ruined everything.
Even when Carol had told her about her engagement, her mom had thrown John in her face. Every time Carol brought up Tobias, Judith brought up John. John was in the past. John was a mistake she’d walked away from years ago. She was trying to be better now, do better now. That would be a lot easier if her mother would stop flinging the past in her face.
She’d hoped, by now, her parents would have accepted her ability to do what was right for herself. They hadn’t. They never would. Instead of being happy for Carol, they were still trying to dismantle her so they could put her back together to suit their needs.
She’d never be a pediatrician, she’d never go back to Dayton, and she’d never walk away from Tobias. She couldn’t be what they wanted, and she had to stop trying.
For her own sake.
“Why are you still up?” Judith asked as she walked into the living room.
Carol finished topping off her third glass of wine—which was two too many. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Easing onto the other end of the sofa, Judith watched her take a drink before asking, “Thinking about Tobias again?”
“Always,” Carol said with a wry smile. “It was almost a year ago now. Seems like yesterday.”
“I’m sure you know this, but time does make this hurt a little less.”
Unfortunately, she did know that. While she never got over the loss of her daughter, time did help ease the crushing pain.
“Is the TV too loud? Did I wake you?” Carol asked, hoping to redirect the conversation before she got even more depressed.
“You’re the only one in this house who doesn’t need hearing aids. I couldn’t hear it if I wanted to.”
Carol grabbed the remote. Even if Judith couldn’t hear the rerun of The Golden Girls, she turned the volume down. Carol hadn’t been listening anyway. The TV was on for noise. For pretend company. Now that her mom was sitting with her, she didn’t need the sitcom.
“It’s late, Carol,” Judith said. “You should try to sleep.”
“Why are you up?”
“Call it mother’s intuition. I suspected I’d find you sitting here.”
Carol sipped her wine. It wasn’t mother’s intuition as much as knowing Carol had suffered from restlessness most of her life. Even as a teenager, her problems would fill her mind the moment she tried to sleep. She’d roll things around and around until she’d give up and crawl out of bed to write in her journal. Sitting here was pretty much a given after the way she’d started the day.
“What’s on your mind?” Judith asked.
“Too much, I suppose.”
“Well, that’s vague. Perhaps if you could narrow it down, we could find a way for you to let it go enough that we can sleep.”