“It’s probably with the remote control you lost this morning,” Judith offered.
“Why would you need sunscreen?” Carol asked.
“We’re going with you.” Ellen turned her attention back on her niece.
Carol immediately faced her mother, who didn’t seem nearly as interested. “You don’t have to.”
“We’re going with you.” This time Ellen’s voice was firm, but she was looking at Judith, as if daring her to disagree.
Carol knew better than to intervene with whatever had transpired between the sisters. Her mother didn’t seem pleased. Neither did Ellen. Carol wasn’t going to ask why. Pulling her baseball cap on her head, she followed the women out into the afternoon sun.
“It’s too hot,” Judith said. “We should take the car.”
“It’s not too hot,” Ellen insisted.
“You can stay, Mom,” Carol offered. “We won’t be long.”
Ellen dipped her chin and eyed Judith with one eyebrow quirked, as if to silently warn her against even considering the idea.
Judith shook her head. “No, I’d like to come along.”
Carol was quite certain she wouldn’t, but she appreciated the effort none the less. Even if it was made under the stern stare of her younger sister. The muggy air enveloped her as they left the shade of the townhouse porch. Carol glanced back at her mom, trying to get a read on her, but the woman was stoic as usual.
As they walked the mile or so to the RV park, Ellen chatted about the clear sky, the flowers, and shared gossip about their neighbors. Carol responded at the right times, but she wasn’t really listening. As she tended to do when she was near her mother, she was tuned in to the vibrations radiating from Judith. Right now, she was picking up on the tension and frustration rolling off the woman beside her. In turn, that fed Carol’s tension and frustration, which were always churning right below the surface when they were together.
Even though they’d been on the same page fifteen minutes ago, a fight was brewing. She didn’t know why or when, but one of them was sure to say the wrong thing and light the other’s fuse. That was how things went between them. That was the cycle Carol had come here to break.
“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 checkin. 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.