CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amelia
Later on, I decided to make a firm resolution to catch up on work. It was my holiday, and I had no reason for doing anything, but work had always been my refuge, so after lunch I took out my laptop and set myself up at the dining-room table. There wasn’t nearly enough left to do, so I resorted to sending Christmas cards to my colleagues and absent acquaintances.
I just don’t want to think about Carson.
All these mixed emotions were getting to me. I thought if I focused on the contradictory messages he was sending, I might actually go mad. Corporate finance was a safe, predictable place in comparison to the crazy, unknown waters that were opening up between him and I.
“Mel?”
I looked up from the screen of my phone when Brett’s voice cut through my thoughts. I had been busy catching up with my colleagues. My interest in being on holiday had dropped abruptly now: really all I could think about was getting back to work.
“Mm?”
“I need to go out with Reese to fetch something from the store—to get her Christmas present, actually. But anyway, could I ask you to keep an eye on the kids? I think Carson’s with them in the yard right now.”
“Oh.” I blinked, surprised. “Okay.”
If Carson’s out there, I’m staying where I am until they come inside.
I had enough of him by now—enough of his confusing ways, his changing attitude toward me. As far as I was concerned, he didn’t exist. At least that’s what I wanted to think.
“Great! Thanks, Mel. You’re great with the kids. Carson’s good too,” he added, seeming surprised. “I’d better head off now,” he added. He was, I noticed, already dressed for cold weather. “Honey?” he called to his wife.
“Yes, dear?” Reese’s voice came down the stairs. A moment later I heard the distinctive sound of heeled boots on wood and she appeared in the hallway, wrapped in a coat that looked like it cost a small fortune.
“There you are,” Brett smiled. I was moved by the softness in his eyes as he looked at her. They had been married for ten years and the love was so evident it touched my heart.
“Are we going to Barney’s?” she asked, meaning the department store.
“I guess,” Brett said, grinning.
“Okay!” Reese said enthusiastically. Brett laughed.
“Bye,” he called to me. “If you’re looking for Carson, I just saw him pass the back gate.”
“See you, brother,” I called as he left. I didn’t want to know about Carson Grant.
“Bye, Amelia!” Reese called out. I heard the key turn in the lock.
Great. Now I’m alone with Carson.
I wasn’t going to think about that. Carson Grant didn’t exist. I was going to repeat that to myself until I officially forgot about him. He isn’t here. No, he isn’t.
I turned back to my laptop and started setting up spreadsheets for next year. I had never worked so far in advance before, but there was no harm in a little work obsession. Especially since I really had to focus on something else. I distantly heard the kitchen door open but I didn’t look up.
“Uncle Carson! Can’t we go outside again?”
A small voice piped up, enthused, from the kitchen. The back door closed. I sighed. It didn’t seem like I could have any peace.
“Aren’t you cold, Cayley?” Carson asked.
“No! I want to go out again! Josh is hiding somewhere. He’s the enemy…”
“Well, happy hunting, partner,” Carson laughed.
Had he been teaching them more military techniques? I sighed. The army might have released him a year ago, but its hold on him was still there.
My phone made a noise just as Cayley shut the kitchen door behind her and I lost track of time again.
Calm down, sister, I typed. It’s not the end of the financial year.
She sent back a laughing face. I know. But my in-laws are here.
Heck, I sent back.
Quite.
We exchanged funny comments and recipe ideas for quite a while. I was buried in Food Network, hunting for a recipe for dressing, when the explosion happened.
A noise somewhere between a gunshot and a car backfiring went off just outside the kitchen. It was followed immediately after by a whooping yell.
“Oh, God! The kids…”
I dropped the phone on the cushion and ran to the yard, hurrying through the kitchen without any thought of the fact that Carson was still there.
“Kids!” I shouted. “What the heck?”
I was met by two happy, laughing faces and a spent firecracker.
“We did it!” Cayley said happily.
“Let’s do it again,” Josh said, a contented smile on his angelic face.
I wasn’t sure whether her to laugh or cry. “Kids!” I said harshly. “Don’t play with fireworks! It’s dangerous!” Where was Carson? I was furious. My hands shook with adrenaline and anger and I was met with two miserable faces, Josh’s already crumpling into tears.
I felt instantly guilty. I hadn’t meant to lose it with them. I was angry with myself, imagining Josh with his hand blown off, or both kids badly burned. How could I have been so neglectful? It wasn’t just Carson’s job to keep an eye on them. Brett had trusted me too. How could I do this?
“Aw, but auntie…it’s fun!” Josh explained.
“Yes! Can’t we have one more?” Cayley clamored.
“No.” I shook my head briskly. “You shouldn’t even have let one off on your own. Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here!”
They looked miserably up at me, but followed me inside. I sent them upstairs to wash their hands and faces and collapsed, exhausted and weary from relief, into the chair by the kitchen table. It was then that I saw him.
Carson was sitting on the floor by the sink. He had his legs clasped up to his chest, and on his cheek was the mark of a tear. He was pale, and his eyes were shut. I hadn’t seen him or heard him when I came in.
“Carson?” I whispered. “Carson?”
He opened his eyes suddenly, round and staring with fright. Then he stood up, shakily.
“Um…Amelia! I…no. Oh, God…” He was crying. Carson was crying. He leaned on the counter, face in his hands. His shoulders rose and fell shakily.
“Carson.”
Before I could think about it, my arms were around him. I held him close, rocking a little as I would if it was Cayley who was having a nightmare.
“Shh,” I said gently. “Shh.”
He sobbed a bit longer, then stopped. Turned to face me. “Oh, God, Amelia,” he whispered. “I…I wish you hadn’t seen me like this.” He covered his face again and his body stiffened as he tried to stop the tears.
“No, Carson,” I said gently. “It’s okay. I understand.”
He laughed, shakily. Slid down to sit on the chair. I sat next to him, my hand in his. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, a laugh threading his voice. “Because I’m not sure I do.”
I didn’t say anything. Whatever it was, he needed space to talk. Anything I said might put him off. I waited. At length, he cleared his throat.
“It was the noise,” he explained. “The bomb. Well, the firework. Whatever.” he laughed, shrugging. “It was…suddenly I was there again. In the bullets. Seeing friends die. Seeing Pete…oh, God.”
He breathed out shakily, his hand gripping mine. I still said nothing. At length, he coughed again.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. You must think I’m weird. But I…this…this is the first time I’ve cried.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t want to think about it. About what he’d been through. He had faced death and seen his friends die, seen blood and injury and destruction in a way most people didn’t in nightmares. He had faced danger and fear and had to walk through them every day. He hadn’t known he would come back alive. Of course, the sound of guns or explosions of any kind triggered him.
“I’m sorry, Carson,” I whispered. “I really am.”
He shook his head. His grip tightened in mine. “You’re sorry? Sweetheart, you don’t have to be sorry about anything.”
I melted. He always called me sweetheart. It reached into my heart and melted it. Suddenly we were kids again, sitting under a tree, telling each other about our love. I sniffed.
Without thinking about it, I moved and we were in each other’s arms. His mouth came down on mine and his lips were tender as they explored my own. I had forgotten his kisses; forgotten how they turned me to water. His tongue gently probed me, tasting my lips, sliding in. I shivered and leaned back, my mouth soft and welcoming to him. He leaned in and the kiss deepened, becoming passionate in a way that made my heart thud and strange warmth flow from my chest to my loins and back.
He groaned against me, his arms tight around me. I pressed against him. Then he sat back.
“I shouldn’t,” he said. His voice was a thread and I think he didn’t mean me to hear it, but I did.
“Why not, Carson?” I whispered. He shook his head.
“I’m an idiot,” he said. He stood and pushed in his chair. His eyes, looking at me, were wild. “I…I should go. Forgive me,” he blurted. Then he headed briskly through the door. I heard him taking the stairs almost at a run. I collapsed at the table and sobbed.
“Oh, Carson.” I said aloud. “Oh, my dear. My dear man.”
I was still at the kitchen table, shoulders heaving, tears flowing down my face, when I heard the door creak open behind me. Two sets of feet tracked quietly toward me.
“Auntie Mellie?” Cayley lisped. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have. I promise we won’t do it again.”
“Yes. We’ll never play with fireworks again. We didn’t mean to make you sad.”
I looked at the two kids, a solemn delegation of self-imposed guilt. I wanted to weep again, for a different reason. For their accountability and their vulnerability. I knelt on the floor. Embraced them.
“Kids,” I whispered into Cayley’s sweet-scented curls. “It wasn’t you. You don’t need to be sorry about anything.”
As I said it, I realized with bittersweet sadness that it was exactly what Carson said to me. I heaved in a sighing breath.
“Now,” I said, sniffing. “How about we go and play hide and seek? Hey?” I ruffled Josh’s hair. I was glad to see a sudden shine return to their eyes.
“Hurray!” Cayley said brightly.
“Can we play in the attic? Please, auntie?”
“Okay,” I agreed, knowing that Brett would disapprove and not caring at that moment. They didn’t need to face the strain of the adults around them fighting and getting stressed. If playing in the attic was a distraction, I was there for it.
“Hurray!” Josh yelled. He was already running for the stairs. “I know the best hiding place! You won’t guess ever!”
I laughed. “You want to bet?”
“All my chocolate dollars!” he shouted the challenge down to me. I laughed.
“Well, I’ll bet all mine too,” I agreed heartily. I didn’t actually own any chocolate dollars, but perhaps Lidl stocked them. I’d make a plan.
As we all raced up to the attic, laughing and excited, I felt my sadness for Carson lift, though my chest still ached.
I think a part of me will always be crying for you.
I sighed. I would have to deal with that. Right now I had two excited kids and a bet to contend with. Everything else could wait.
“On your marks…get set….we’re off! I’m counting…”
As I went through the familiar ritual of counting, slowly and increasingly menacingly, to ten, I found my mind reliving that moment at the table. That moment when the guard went down and we realized, categorically, that we still loved each other.
“Oh, Carson,” I whispered to myself. I wish I could tell you how much I love you. How desperately my body still longs for you.
But how could I tell him, when he didn’t want to know about it? Sniffing determinedly, I bit my lip.
“Okay! Here I come…ready or not!”
I launched myself into the game with enthusiasm, determined that, for the rest of the day—for the rest of the visit—I was going to make Carson Grant mine.