Katie had died in a horrible accident weeks after her sixth birthday. An accident that everyone, including Carol, had blamed on John. She’d hated him for decades. She hadn’t forgiven him until he’d reappeared out of nowhere and she finally came to understand he hadn’t been the only one to blame. Something her mother would never comprehend.
“Oh, God,” Ellen moaned. “Why?”
“He found me in Houston about two months ago and wanted to take that trip we’d planned for Katie.”
Though Ellen was the calmer of the two sisters, her voice came out shrill, somewhere between disbelief and accusation. “And you went?”
Carol hadn’t wanted to take that trip, but she didn’t regret going. If she hadn’t, she never would have found a way to forgive John and let go of the anger that had been holding her back. “He was sick.” Her voice came out tense. John had so quickly gone from her archenemy to someone she could admit she had always cared for in some way. Losing him hurt. “He needed to make peace with the past before he died. So, yes, I went.”
“Carol,” her aunt said, sounding as if she’d been the one encumbered with nursing John for weeks. “No wonder you look so exhausted. Honey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she stated without hesitation. “Seeing him again was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’d been hanging on to a lot of anger and resentment for so long, but he helped me realize I needed to make peace with the past too.” She smiled as warmth filled her chest. “We went to all the places Katie had wanted to see.”
“Mount Hushmore?” Judith asked softly.
Carol laughed at the reminder of the way Katie always mispronounced the national monument. “Yes. We went to Mount Hushmore and Yellowstone. Everywhere she wanted to go. He met Tobias’s family when we went to the Gateway Arch. That was…interesting.” Her smile softened. “He died the day after I got him home to Dayton. On the anniversary of when we lost Katie.”
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.