Chapter 11
Carol sat on the deck steps with her bare feet on the ground, toes rooting through the grass as dusk settled over Lake Blackshear. She heard the tinkle of ice and turned just in time to see Daryl come up behind her carrying two glasses.
"What's this?" she asked, taking the glass from him and sniffing at the contents.
"Jack on the rocks. Strong, but it's all Dale had in the cabinet."
"I'll take it," Carol muttered, taking a sip of the liquid and coughing as her entire throat burned.
"You ok?" he asked, sitting down next to her.
"I don't know," she said quietly. "I want to be ok. I just…don't know if I will be."
"You will," Daryl promised. "We're gonna figure this out."
"Yeah, you keep saying that," Carol said quietly, taking another drink as Daryl lit up a cigarette and took a long drag before taking a swig of his own drink. "Did you catch anything else on the news?"
"You sure you wanna hear it?"
"No, but tell me anyway."
"Alright." He cleared his throat, took another drink, another drag, and he put his glass down between them. "Ed still ain't spoke, but now they're sayin' they got reason to believe you were a prostitute." Carol closed her eyes as her pulse pounded in her temples. "They say they got reason to believe you was addicted to drugs and pregnant when you met Ed, that he got you out of that life, that he cleaned you up. Pretty much makin' him sound like a goddamned saint."
"It's not true," she choked out. "I mean…about the drugs, Daryl. That's a lie. He wants them…he wants them to think I would hurt my baby? I'd never hurt my baby, Daryl."
"I know that. You know that."
"We have to do something."
"We're gonna let him talk. The more he talks, the more he lies, the easier it's gonna be for him to get caught in those lies. One thing's sure as hell for sure. We can't go back." He took another puff on his cigarette. "M'gonna go to the store, pick up some groceries."
"I can wake Sophia, and…"
"No. Best if we ain't seen out together right now," Daryl replied quietly. "Folks are gonna be thinkin' about this, and if they see us…"
"Right," Carol murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ok. You'll be careful?" Daryl licked his lips then, giving her a little nod.
"Nine lives," he promised. She narrowed her eyes a little, cocking her head to the side. "Bein' a cop, I'm pretty sure I've already used up six or seven of 'em. But I'll be careful. Promise." Carol smiled then, the first genuine smile he'd seen out of her all day, and he gently brushed his hand over her shoulder. "Stay inside? I'll be back soon as I can. Might make a run a town or two over, just to be safe."
"Ok," Carol said quietly.
"Keep your phone on. Text me if you need anything. Anything, alright?"
"Ok," she repeated. Daryl stood then, and Carol was surprised when he held his hand out to her. She felt a flutter in her stomach when she took his hand, and he pulled her up to stand in front of him. She felt a little light headed, and she pressed her hand to her forehead.
"You ok?"
"I don't drink much," she admitted. "You're ok to drive?"
"Mmhmm," he murmured, taking one last pull off of his cigarette before flicking it out into the yard. Carol bent down to gather their glasses, and she headed inside, while Daryl grabbed his keys out of his pocket and headed for the truck. He turned to take one last look at the house, finding her standing there, staring back at him from the sliding doors. She held her hand up against the glass in a little wave, and he nodded back to her. And then he was gone.
Carol sighed softly, feeling a tingling in her palm, as if the simplicity of his touch had jumpstarted some electric current inside of her. She shook her head as she made her way to the sink and poured out what was left of their drinks. She chewed her lip anxiously before moving to the living room, where Sophia was still curled up fast asleep on the couch.
It suddenly occurred to Carol that this was probably the first uninterrupted sleep Sophia had had in a long time, and she wasn't about to wake her now.
She gently pulled a throw off of the back of the couch and draped it over Sophia. Kirby lifted his head off of his paws and whined, but he knew all was well when Carol reached down and scratched him behind the ears.
"Good boy," she whispered. She stood then and went back to the kitchen to wash up the drink glasses. All the while, she kept her eye on the TV, conflicted about whether or not she should turn it on. She knew that all she would accomplish would be worrying herself, and there was no need for that. She had Daryl. She had Sophia. And she felt safe. Safer than she could ever remember feeling in her whole damned life. And in a way, that terrified her to her core, because she knew that if Ed had anything to say about it, this feeling wouldn't last forever.
She frowned and dried the last glass, placing it in the cupboard.
She felt unsettled now, like the wrong step would send her crashing down. She'd pulled her child of school and brought her along on this…what was it? An escape? A new beginning? Whatever it was, Ed had the city of Atlanta eating out of the palm of his hand. While he was relying on telling the world about his wife's past and dreaming up lies to make himself look better, she was trying to figure out she'd let her life turn into such a mess.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she jumped, quickly moving to the sliding doors to look out over the lake, where a storm was quickly rolling in. She shivered and locked the door, turning off the lights before retreating to the living room.
It was too quiet. Only the sound of wind beating against the side of the house and thunder rumbling in the distance filled the air, and now Kirby was starting to whine. She made her way over to a recliner by the couch and sat down, propping her feet up. Kirby cocked his head to the side, ears perking up as he looked at her, and she smiled, patting her lap, and he hurried over, scurrying up onto her lap to settle down, to protect her.
"Good boy," she whispered, scratching him behind the ears. He licked her hand then before resting his head against her stomach, and she closed her eyes, leaning her head back, trying not to let the sounds of the storm get to her. And before she knew it, she was fast asleep without a care in the world.
...
A flash of lightning startled Carol out of her sleep. The house was too quiet, save for the whine and whimper of Kirby from somewhere close by. She looked around, desperately searching for the time, but the house was pitch black, and she couldn't even see a foot in front of her face.
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked for messages. Nothing. No missed calls. No messages. And it was…two thirty in the morning? Carol felt a panic rise in her chest.
"Sophia?!" She turned the face of the phone toward the couch to find Sophia sitting up, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
"Mama? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, honey. Go back to sleep," she whispered, getting up from the recliner.
"Why's it so dark? Are we home?"
"The power's out. That's all. Go back to sleep, ok?" Kirby whined again, and Sophia smacked her lips, making a kissing noise to call him. He whined again, and Carol flashed the light toward the door. He was wagging his tail and whining.
"He has to go out," Sophia said softly.
"I'll take him. Go on. Lay back, sweetie. It's not time to wake up." Sophia looked at her mother anxiously before laying back down on the couch. Carol quickly sought out Kirby's leash and hooked it to his collar. "I'll be right back."
She unlocked the front door and hurried out onto the porch with an eager Kirby. The rain had stopped, but remnants of the storm remained. Traveling thunder, the occasional bolt of lightning, the dewy scent on the cool breeze.
"Come on," Carol urged, stepping out into the grass so Kirby could do his business. She held his leash with one hand while she glanced around the lot. No sign of Daryl's truck. Where the hell was he? He should have been back hours ago.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight. She heard a car door slam somewhere nearby, and she startled. Kirby nosed through the grass, and she held tight to his leash as she jabbed her thumb against the screen, pulling up Daryl's number and hitting SEND.
It rang and rang until it cut to a computerized voice asking her to leave a message. She groaned in frustration and started to text him instead.
Where are you?
Are you ok?
Please call me.
She waited. Kirby finished his business and started rolling around in the damp grass. She gently tugged at his leash, leading him back up to the house. She unhooked him from the leash as soon as she got him inside, and then she shut the door and sat down on the porch step, staring at her phone's dark screen, waiting for a message from him. Nothing.
Her hand shook as panic scorched through her veins, and her heart began to pound in her ears. A cold sweat broke out over her forehead and the back of her neck, and she took a deep breath, leaning her head forward, closing her eyes, focusing on staying calm. She couldn't freak out. Freaking out would only make things worse.
Tell me you didn't go back to Atlanta.
Her hand shook as she sent the message, and she suddenly felt like she was going to throw up.
"Mama?" Sophia opened the screen door and stepped outside.
"Sophia, honey…you should sleep."
"I'm all slept out," Sophia said softly. "I'm not tired anymore."
"You want me to tell you a story?"
"Where's Daryl?" the girl asked, sitting down next to her mother.
"He'll be back soon," Carol promised, her voice shaking with uncertainty. "He will." Lightning flashed across the sky again, and the wind began to pick up. "It's gonna storm again." Carol gently rubbed her little girl's back. "Come on. I saw some hot cocoa mix in the cupboard. I'll make some?" Sophia nodded eagerly, and Carol smiled, kissing the top of her daughter's head. They headed inside together, and Carol's hands shook as she made her daughter a cup of hot cocoa. She kept her eye on the window above the sink where she had a clear view of the big tree rooted at the end of the drive. If Daryl came back, she'd see the lights from the truck hit the stump before she heard the crack of gravel under his tires.
She took the hot drink to Sophia before returning to the kitchen. She moved to sit at the table and stared down at the phone, willing it to ring or to light up with a message. But nothing came. She felt her throat tighten, and she felt that cold sweat come back. And then her pulse was pounding, and it felt like a load of bricks had been put on her chest.
She stood, pacing then, wringing her hands together tightly. And then the tears began to burn her eyes. Where was he? How could he just come into her life like he had, a true man of honor, and then just disappear like this? But wasn't that the way things happened? Everyone she'd ever cared about in any way had been taken from her, except Sophia, and even that was an uncertainty now, as she hid in this little lake house with a prepaid cell phone lying dormant on the oak table top.
Her body was trembling now, as she fought with her head and her heart. Her head told her that he would be back. He wasn't leaving. He merely got stuck in traffic. But her heart? Her heart told her that maybe he realized he was in this too deep, maybe he went back to Atlanta to try and fix this himself. Maybe he just disappeared all together, because that's what happened to the good things in her life. They disappeared, if they even existed at all.
And then another fear struck her. He'd drank before he'd left. What if he'd wrecked? What if he was lying somewhere injured? Or dead? What if…no. She shook the thoughts from her head. He'd be back. He had to come back.
She moved back to the living room, where Sophia had fallen back to sleep with a half-drank of cocoa sitting on the inn table. Carol quickly snatched up the cup and went to the kitchen to wash it, pouring the frothy liquid down the sink. She closed her eyes for a moment, and the glass tumbled into the sink, singing loudly against the steel basin. Carol's shoulders slumped then, and she felt the bubble form in her throat. And then she let go, choking out the sob she'd been holding in. And then her shoulders were shaking, and she was sobbing, and she hated herself for being so weak. She remembered those nights holding her dying mother's hand. She'd felt so helpless, but she knew now that it had been the strongest she'd ever been in her life. She'd seen more things, been through more things than many people in this world, and she was still breathing. She was still alive. But she felt so utterly alone in this moment, and it paralyzed her.
She slumped to the floor, letting the water run freely in the sink as she slid down against the linoleum floor. She pulled her knees up, bringing her arms around them, gasping for breath as she fought to control herself. She hated these moments, these unbearable moments that felt like she was slipping down into the abyss, something far more terrifying than even Ed.
She felt the hot tears sting her cheeks, and then she heard it. The crunch of tire on gravel, the sound of an engine cutting off. But it didn't have the familiar sound of Daryl's truck. No. This was different. She scrambled to her feet, digging her heels into the linoleum as she made her way across the kitchen and into the living room. She peered out the door at the small, red pickup that sat in the drive.
Fear struck her then, and she pressed her back against the door, heart pounding in her ears as she tried to make sense of it all. For a brief moment, she thought Ed had found her, but how could he? He had connections, but how in the hell would he know to look for her here of all places? There was no way. No way. Not unless Dale and Irma had…no. No, she refused to believe that.
The doorknob jiggled, and Carol jumped, clutching her chest as she said a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the door as the door thrust open, only to slam back shut from the weight of her leaning on it.
She heard a muffled curse, and then a tap on the glass.
"Carol. Carol, it's me." She could barely hear it over the rumble of thunder, but she knew. Her eyes flew open then, and she turned, throwing the door opening and standing face to face with Daryl. He was soaking wet and looked terrified, and without even thinking, without missing a beat, she was crashing into him, arms thrown around his shoulders and holding him tight. He stumbled backward out onto the porch, and the screen shut as they stood there, rain pouring off the awning in sheets around them.
"I thought…I thought…" she panted. "You were gone."
"M' here. M'sorry," he murmured, hand gently caressing the back of her head. She held him tighter then. "Bridge got washed out in the next county. Had to take a detour. Damned near got lost. Tried to call you, but the service was out."
"God," she panted, burying her face against his neck, feeling his heart beating against her cheek as he squeezed her tight.
"M'sorry, Carol. Meant to be back hours ago, but I couldn't ge—" He gasped when Carol's lips were on his, hands frantically gripping his back, holding onto him as if he were going to disappear. He froze for only a moment, before he was kissing her, too, closing his eyes and leaning into her, bodies entwined as they stood together, storm whipping around them as the porch shook from the thunder. He could taste the salt of her tears, and her lips were soft against his, and in that moment, he knew this was the last first kiss he'd ever have.