Read Pieces of the Heart Online

Authors: Karen White

Pieces of the Heart (29 page)

Rainy rested her hand against the top of Caroline’s head, reminding Caroline of the old childhood game of Duck, Duck, Goose. “What should we do with him when he’s better? We could keep him here all winter, you know.”
Caroline shook her head, seeing things more clearly than she had in a very long time. “No, he needs to go back in the water as soon as he’s able. I don’t want him to forget the feel of it.”
“No chance of that, I wouldn’t think. He’s born knowing the water; like a human baby knows its mother. Just like we always seem to be drawn back into the family fold, I imagine this ol’ bird is drawn to the water.” Rainy clucked her tongue. “Besides, he’d look silly being a land loon, don’t you think? God knows He was definitely thinking about keeping this clumsy bird in the water when He made him. Boy, oh, boy, can those birds swim.”
Caroline’s throat had gone dry, which didn’t matter because she didn’t know what to say anyway.
Rainy saved her by speaking first. “I found a box of Shelby’s clothes while I was looking for Jude’s quilt in the attic. I think she put the box up there after college and I forgot about it. I’m going to give it to Jewel and let her go through it, but I thought I’d let you look first and see if there’s anything you think we could use for the quilt.” She bent to pick up the loon, which went into her arms without complaint. “And there’s some bathing suits with the tags still on them that look about your size, and I remember your mom mentioning to me that you didn’t pack any. They’re yours if you want them. To swim in the pool, of course. Not the lake.”
Caroline wanted to say no. But then she remembered the feel of the water again, and how she felt as she’d sluiced through it.
I’ve missed the water.
She gave a brief nod. “Sure. I’ll look through it. Thanks.”
“It’s in the storeroom. Drew can help you load it into your car when you’re ready to leave.” Rainy reached into the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a tiny collar and leash.
Drew laughed. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep. How else do you think he’ll get his exercise while he’s recuperating? There’s only so much bird poop I’m willing to clean up off this floor.”
As if they’d done it many times before, Rainy attached the small collar around the bird’s short neck, then placed him on the floor. Like a small, ungainly dog, he waddled toward the back door and waited for Rainy to open it.
Rainy put her hand on the knob before turning to face Caroline and Drew. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Caroline stood abruptly to protest but found herself staring at a closed door. Too late, she felt the blood rushing from her head and saw pinpricks of blind spots in her vision. Drew’s arms were around her again, and she found herself sitting on his lap at the kitchen table, her head resting in what was becoming a very familiar place.
“Do you need some water?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll be all right in a minute. My medications make me a little woozy sometimes, especially when I stand up too suddenly.”
“Oh. I thought it was the excitement from Rainy’s suggestion.”
With a weak hand, she slapped him on his chest.
“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be nice to me.”
She sat up. “Did my mother tell you that?”
“Yes—accidentally. When I brought you home yesterday and you went into your room to change, she asked me how our day was. Since it would be hard to lie about you landing in the lake, seeing as how you carried your clothes in a wet bundle, I told her what happened. That’s when she mentioned that you were trying to be nice to me.”
Feeling completely recovered, Caroline extricated herself from his lap and sat down across the table from him. She smoothed the table runner so she wouldn’t have to look in his face. “Did she mention why?”
He sat up, putting his elbows on the table. “Does there have to be an ulterior motive to be nice to me?”
She tried to hold back, but it was so hard where he was concerned. “Yes. There does.”
He laughed and sat back in his chair. “So why would you be trying to be nice to me? And I’d give you a failing grade for yesterday, by the way.”
She continued straightening the runner that was already without a single crease.
I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.
She tried to forget him saying those words, him holding her close, and his lips on her hair. She tried to find her walls again, but they seemed to have acquired large portholes that offered a clear view of the other side. Why was he so intent on destroying her defenses? It was time he learned that he wasn’t the only one with an agenda.
“I’d like to know why you won’t consider letting me try to sell your furniture ideas. It could be very lucrative—for both of us. I’m now the company’s comptroller. If I brought in the kind of money I think your stuff will, I’d probably end up as CFO. And your name would be on every piece, so you’d still be recognized as the artist. Of course, these are just my preliminary ideas—I’d need to talk to my boss to work it out—but I’m sure a licensing agreement would certainly be the best thing for both of us.”
Silently he watched her, and she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. “And that’s what you want? To be CFO?”
She nodded, feeling a small spark of hope.
“Are there any other goals that you want in life? Anything besides being CFO of Kobylt Brothers Furniture?”
She felt the same spark fizzle and die. Of course he wouldn’t cooperate. Whatever had made her think that he would? Did she for one minute believe that his sympathy for her yesterday would translate to letting her have her way today? Of course not. And, on some level that she didn’t really want to explore, she liked him for that.
She swallowed before answering, knowing it would be fruitless to lie. “No.”
He just sat there, staring at her, his eyes unreadable. Finally he said, “Then I can’t help you.” He stood and carefully placed his chair under the table.
Caroline stood, too, trying to breathe out the anger through her nostrils as Dr. Northcutt had taught her. “Why? Why are you so opposed to a little success?”
He came to stand in front of her, their bodies almost touching. “Because there’s more to life than success and money. So much more. I made a huge mistake with Shelby. For all intents and purposes I abandoned her and Jewel.” He paused for a moment and swallowed. “Did you know that before Shelby died I had no idea what Jewel’s favorite color was or that she didn’t like macaroni and cheese? I didn’t know the name of her best friend or her fifth-grade teacher. I didn’t even know that she had to sleep with a night-light because she was afraid of the dark.” He kept his voice steady and even, as if he’d had this same conversation with himself hundreds of times.
“I didn’t know these things because I was busy pursuing the things my father had always taught me were more important than anything—success and money. And I always thought I had a good excuse for turning from my wife and daughter to pursue success. But in the end, excuses didn’t matter.” He turned away and walked to the refrigerator and jerked the door open, glass bottles shaking. He stared inside sightlessly. “Did you know that I wasn’t with Shelby when she died? I stayed back in Charleston—catching up on paperwork, of all things. I don’t think I could have saved her, but I could have saved Jewel from the trauma of being alone with her mother when it happened. Of almost drowning by trying to bring her mother’s body in to shore.” He let the door shut before briefly resting his forehead against the white metal.
Slowly he turned to face her. “She’s afraid of the water, you know.”
Caroline found her voice. “I know. She told me. She said Shelby had once said to her to find the one thing that she’s most afraid of and do it. So she swims.”
His cheek twitched into an almost-smile. “Yeah. That’s exactly how Shelby lived her life.” He moved back to the table and stood in front of her again. “What are you most afraid of, Caroline Collier?”
She felt the shallowness of her breathing and focused on filling her lungs slowly. She could tell he was noticing her efforts and it made her angry. “You go first. What about you? Are you afraid that you’ve given up everything that you loved to come here, and have found that it’s not enough? Do you really want to run a little country store and make one-of-a-kind furniture pieces for the rest of your life? Will it make you happy?”
He drew back as if she’d struck him. “My daughter is my focus now. If I can make sure she grows up into a physically and emotionally secure woman, then everything will have been worth it.”
Caroline didn’t back away, and a fleeting thought reminded her that she’d learned it from him. “She’s the one who fights her demons every morning by swimming in the lake. What have you done? And don’t think for one minute that she’s not aware that all of your sacrifices were about her—or that it hurts her to know that you haven’t found what you’re looking for.”
His lips formed a grim, thin line. “Since when have you become such an expert on parenting and adolescent behavior? Besides the fact that you act like an adolescent most of the time.”
It was her turn to draw back. “I think I’ve had enough for one morning. But do think about my business proposition. Something tells me that you miss using your brain as much as I do—assuming you have one.” She wanted to stamp her foot or throw something, but settled for the more mature action of fisting her hands. “You can’t let a past mistake rule your life. You need to move on—if not for your sake, then at least think of Jewel.”
She turned to leave, then stopped in the middle of the floor, her own words thrumming through her head. Somehow she managed to move forward. Her hand was on the doorknob of the back door when he called her name.
Facing him, she realized that he had moved toward her and was once again close enough to touch. He reached up and tucked her loose hair behind her ear. “You can’t let a past mistake rule your life. You need to move on. If not for your sake, then at least think of your mother.”
She jerked back from him, her heels hitting the door.
You don’t understand. It’s different with me.
She wanted to say the words out loud but she couldn’t. He might force her to make him understand, and she knew she couldn’t.
Turning around to face the door again, she yanked it open and left, letting him close the door behind her.
June 8, 1990
 
Jude and his family arrived yesterday. Caroline and Jude’s school has been out for the summer since Memorial Day, but with all of our snow days, graduation has been pushed back to June 18. The senior prom is tonight. My yellow dress has been steamed and pronounced free of wrinkles by my mom and dad—and by Mrs. Collier, who came over and insisted on seeing the dress. She said she wanted to make sure that Jude had the right shade of yellow flowers in the wrist corsage he was bringing. I personally think she wanted to make sure that I would look good enough for Jude. Not that I blame her. Pretty much everybody pales in comparison when standing next to him.
Caroline came over, too, and tried not to be too interested in my dress, but I showed it to her anyway. She likes to pretend that she’s not into the girl/boy thing and parties and dresses and other girly stuff, but I know different. She still hides herself in her own shell, and only those smart enough to look can see her incredible beauty. Obviously Atlanta must not have any smart high school juniors, because Caroline doesn’t date. I joked with Mrs. Collier that when boys finally discover Caroline, she’ll have to get a separate phone line for her daughter. Caroline just looked embarrassed and missed Mrs. Collier’s hopeful expression. I don’t think Mrs. Collier is desperate to see Caroline dating; I think she’s just hopeful that someone else will soon see what we’ve been seeing all along.
Mr. and Mrs. Collier invited us all over to their house before we left for the prom, and we drank apple cider out on their back deck. The sun was just setting as a loon lifted up from a hidden nest on the shore and splashed over the water before rising into the sky. Jude, Caroline, and I watched it glide through the sun, crying out to the rising moon, before disappearing into the lake. Jude reached for my hand and held it tightly as if we suddenly didn’t have all the time in the world. That’s when my headache started and caused us to miss the first hour of the prom.
But through the pain of my headache, all I could see against my closed eyelids was the darkness under the lake where the loon cut through the water with strength and confidence, the orange-red sun lighting the surface above and drawing it back home.
CHAPTER 20

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