Carly's Gift (41 page)

Carly had pulled into herself, speaking only to answer a question, facing the funeral and now the graveside service without tears or any outward show of emotion. She had been with Andrea when she took her last breath. Later, she'd insisted on calling home herself, not wanting Shawn and Eric or her mother and Wally to hear the news from anyone else. Even then she hadn't cried.

The rain changed, growing from a heavy mist to drops. Victoria turned to David. “I'm going to take Jeffery home now. I think you and Carly should come soon, too.”

He nodded. “In a while.”

She went to Jeffery and took his hand. “There're some friends of yours from school waiting for you at the house,” she told him. “It's time we saw to them, don't you think?”

He looked at her with vacant eyes. “Yes, of course. You go along to the car. I'll be there in a minute.”

Victoria started down the hill, touching Carly's arm gently as she passed.

Jeffery moved over to where David and Carly were standing. “I've decided to leave off my studies for a year,” he told them. “Go to Botswana for a bit and then maybe South America.” He turned his attention to Carly. “Then, I thought I might come by for a visit. I think I'd like to see some of where Andrea grew up.”

“She would like that,” Carly said, putting her arms around him. “I would, too.”

He let her go and said, “Till then.”

“Until then, Jeffery,” she said softly to his retreating back.

“I've been meaning to ask you something,” David said when Jeffery was gone. “Before Andrea died, she called me Dad. Did you . . .”

Carly met his gaze. “No,” she said. “I didn't tell her to do it. You were a wonderful father to her, David. She never doubted you. You never let her down.”

“I want to go with you when you go back home.”

“No—I can't take the chance.”

“Damn it, we belong together. When are you going to get that through your head?”

“I have to get Shawn and Eric back, David. And I have to do whatever I can to help Wally and my mother. I can't do either if you're with me.”

“And afterward?”

She looked away, hiding her face from him. “I don't know.”

He thought about telling her that Victoria had come to him the night before and told him she was going to give him a divorce so that he and Carly could be together. But it wasn't the time or place. “If you need me—”

“I'll call.” She walked over to the grave and picked up a lilac the wind had blown from the casket. “Promise me you'll always bring her lilacs in the spring,” she said.

It was such a small request, but it told him everything.

She would never call.

Carly slipped her key into the lock and opened the front door. She stood in the foyer for several seconds, listening to the quiet, seeking a sense of homecoming. Nothing happened. The emptiness inside her would not be satisfied so easily.

She hadn't called her mother to tell her which flight she would be on, wanting her arrival to be as quiet as possible. There was so much to do. First, and most pressing, was arranging the memorial service. Shawn and Eric hadn't even seen Andrea sick; they would need a way to say good-bye if they were ever going to accept what had happened.

Too bad that wouldn't work for her. She had said good-bye, over and over again—at the hospital, at the funeral, at the graveside. The words did nothing to ease the ache or the longing. Nor did it stop her from thinking of just one more thing she wanted to tell Andrea.

The trick would be to keep busy. She would fill each day to overflowing. There would be no time for thinking or remembering or hurting.

Carly shrugged the strap of her purse off her shoulder and set it on the hall table. She had one last promise to fulfill, one last thing to do for her daughter.

“Muffin,” she said, listening for the telltale thump as he hit the floor jumping off Andrea's bed. Her call was met with silence. She went into the kitchen, glancing at his food and water dishes. They were untouched. And then she saw him in the corner, curled up on Andrea's sweatshirt.

“Muffin?” she called again, going to him. When he didn't respond, she knelt down and put her hand on his chest. There was no heartbeat. “Oh, Muffin,” she said, catching her breath. “How did you know Andrea needed you to be with her this one last time?”

Carly sat on the floor and gathered Muffin in her arms, carefully wrapping Andrea's sweatshirt around him. She held him close, the way she had longed to hold Andrea but couldn't because of all the tubes running into her body, sustaining the fragile hope for a miracle.

Finally, the tears came.

Thirty-eight

Three Years Later

Carly stood back
from the painting she'd just hung on the wall of the artists' co-op, stared at it for several seconds, and then rehung it a few inches higher. The artist, a young man who'd transferred to the University of Colorado from San Jose State University in California, was a new member and anxious to see his work on display. It hadn't been that long since she'd been in the same position. Now her work was being shown in one of the premier galleries in Denver and although sales seemed to happen in clusters, they were enough to keep her from having to use the money Ethan sent every month.

It felt good to be supporting herself, even if it meant she ate more salad than steak. Salad was better for her, anyway.

Finally satisfied with the painting, she went over to the desk to turn on her computer and check her email. She opened the one from her mother first.

I wanted to get this off before Wally and I leave for Florida. Can you believe it? I finally got him on a plane after ten years of trying. Of course I'm not sure I could have pulled it off without promising we would make it a triangle flight and stop by to visit you and the boys on our way home.

Anyway, the big rush was to tell you I saw your uncle Steve yesterday. He said Hallie was in the hospital. She had a stroke last week and from the looks of it, won't be coming home for a long time, if ever. He said her speech was affected and likely wouldn't come back. I keep telling myself it's my Christian duty to feel sorry for her, but the devil gets his due on this one. The only sympathy I can summon is for the nurses who will have to take care of her.

A warm feeling came over Carly at the mention of her uncle Steve. The quiet, unassuming man she'd spent most of her life believing an enemy had turned out to be a surprising ally. Not only had he gone in for the HLA testing the day he found out about his brother being Andrea's father, he'd been the star witness for Barbara at her trial, testifying that Frank's brutality had reached back to his childhood.

It was readily acknowledged by both the prosecutor and defense attorneys that the verdict would have been different had the trial taken place twenty years earlier. But the mood of the nation had filtered down to Baxter in the ensuing years and the scales of justice had tipped in Barbara's favor. Wally had quietly tried to resign his position as sheriff, thinking to save the town and his family the embarrassment of being fired. When the word got out, the townspeople signed petitions demanding that he be reinstated, and brought them to city hall. His retirement party that past summer had coincided with the town's annual Fourth of July celebration and had been a party no one was likely to forget.

Ethan came by to give us some things to bring to the boys. I can't get over how much he's changed. From the looks of it, he's stopped drinking and is finally managing to get his life together again. Gossip has it he's seeing a woman over in Linndale. Wouldn't it be nice if something came of it? I'd like an excuse to stop worrying about him.

Gotta run, sweetheart—still need to pack my bikini. Ha ha. Couldn't you just see that? Say hello to the boys and tell them that Wally hasn't stopped talking about the fishing the three of them are going to do when we get to Colorado.

Love you,
Mom

Carly still couldn't think about Ethan without the good years they'd had together being overshadowed by the bad. The custody battle had never taken place. Shawn and Eric were old enough to decide where they wanted to live, and to Ethan's amazement, they chose to stay with her.

The next year Shawn had graduated early and gone away to college—the University of Colorado in Boulder—to be with Patty. Carly and Eric had visited him there several months later and had fallen in love with the stark majesty of the Rocky Mountains. That summer, when Eric, too, graduated early from high school, they'd rented a U-Haul trailer, packed everything they owned in it, and headed west.

Carly printed the letter and put it in her purse to share with Shawn and Eric when she saw them later that night. She was stepping around the counter when a flash of red caught her eye. It was Shawn driving his grandmother's Mustang into the parking lot. He stopped in front of the co-op, noticed her watching him, waved, and hopped out of the convertible without opening the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he came inside, inordinately pleased to see him. “I thought you had a class this afternoon.”

“It was canceled.”

“And Patty was busy.”

He grinned. “Yep.”

“So having nothing else to occupy your time, you thought you'd come see me?”

“I have more to do than I want to think about. Actually, I'm here on a mission,” he said mysteriously.

“Something that couldn't wait until tonight?”

He blinked.

“Don't tell me you forgot you were coming to dinner?”

“Was that tonight?”

“I made enough lasagna to feed an army.”

He put his arm around her. “Then you wouldn't mind feeding an army, would you?”

She laughed. “How many should I expect?”

“Martha's sister and her boyfriend are here for the weekend.”

“Martha, the friend of Patty's who has the sister who works for the governor?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, good, I've wanted to meet her for a long time now.”

Shawn groaned. “I told you, she doesn't have anything to do with funding for the arts, Mom.” He walked over to the counter and began picking through a bowl of wrapped candy. “You're turning into a real nut case about this project.” He put a piece of candy in his mouth and cocked his head to one side, listening. “Don't you ever get tired of that music?”

“Never. It reminds me of—”

“Andrea,” he finished for her.

“Of course Andrea,” she said softly. “But what I was going to say is that it reminds me life should be celebrated—every day. I'll never waste another moment or tolerate another regret.”

“Boy, did you just give me the perfect segue.” He reached in his pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. “I picked this up at the student bookstore today.”

She took the paper from his outstretched hand, curious and suspicious at the same time. She caught her breath when she saw the photograph. It was David.

“He's going to be in Denver tonight, autographing his new book,” Shawn supplied.

After several seconds Carly carefully folded the flyer and handed it back to him. “I understand it's doing really well.”

“Have you read it?”

Carly shook her head.

“There were some copies at the bookstore. I picked one up and looked at it.”

“And?” she asked, curious despite herself.

“It's about a girl who has leukemia and then goes on to become a famous actress.”

A lump formed in Carly's throat.

“The title is
The Way It Should Have Been.
”

Carly had read an article about David in
People
magazine over a year ago that said he was finally working again after losing his daughter. It also mentioned his divorce, something Carly undoubtedly would have known earlier if she hadn't sent his letters back unopened and refused to return his phone calls. For more than a year after she'd come home, she was unable to think about seeing David again without having the memory of Andrea dying almost overwhelm her.

When she thought about that first year without Andrea, it was always in the context of traveling through a long dark tunnel. Everyone she loved had needed a piece of her to help them get over their own grief. Shawn and Eric most of all.

There had been nothing left to give David.

And then, just as she was beginning to recover, Jeffery had arrived for his promised visit and had stolen the keystone to the new life she'd started to put together. For months afterward it was a struggle to get through each day.

Again, there had been nothing left for David.

“David couldn't have loved your sister more if she had been his own child,” she told Shawn.

“Did Andrea ever find out about what your dad did to you?”