10. Carson
TEN
Carson
S he’s one-hundred-percent right, and I can’t stop her from walking away.
The truth is, I’ve been using her, and I can’t blame her for not wanting to be used. I’m in no way ready to let go of my past and my wife, and until I can do that, I can’t give myself to anyone. It doesn’t matter that I think she’s beautiful, nice, and a good person. It doesn’t matter that Margo loves her like a mother figure. What matters is that I can’t treat her the way she wants to be treated. She wants to mean something to me, and I can’t feel anything for her. Not yet. Not when Kate is still taking up my whole heart.
I have to figure out a way to let her go, to heal, to be more than I am. Not only for Violet, but for myself and my daughter. Margo doesn’t know any different right now, but soon, she’ll grown up, and when she looks at me, I don’t want her seeing a lost and lonely man staring back at her. Moving here was the first step at moving on with my life. I guess it’s time for me to start working on the rest of those steps.
I don’t know how to let her go, though. I wish I knew how. It would make this process a lot easier. How do I live through a day without thinking of her? Even when I’m in the garage and keeping myself busy with work, she’s still in the back of my mind. I remember things we did or said in the past, or I just sit with her inside of my head, imagining a conversation that we would be having if she were still here. I guess that isn’t completely healthy. It keeps her alive in ways I shouldn’t. She’s gone, and I need to force myself to believe it.
Time passes by slowly, too slowly as it always does when you’re working on something. In my case, it’s myself. Each day, I put forth an effort to think of Kate a little less. Each day, it gets easier and easier, although not by much. Time also passes slowly because I haven’t been man enough to show my face around Violet again, and Margo is not letting me off the hook. It’s been three weeks, and she still asks to go see her every day. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I get my shit under control.
I made the decision to put Margo into the daycare here in town. This lets her meet some friends her age, and it keeps her out of the garage so I can work. It also gives her something to look forward to every day. As she makes new friends, she mentions Violet less and less but never forgets her completely. She says things like, “My friend Violet,” or “Remember when we’d go get those yummy donuts and you would talk to Violet?”
She doesn’t understand why we can’t go see her, and I can’t tell her why. I wish I could’ve kept myself in check with her, but I slipped up and let her in before I was ready. The thing that stands out the most to me, though, is how all those hours I’d spent thinking of Kate before are now spent thinking about Violet. I remember the nights we had together, and I miss her company. I miss her laugh and nervous smiles. I miss feeling how hot and tight she always was when she welcomed me into her body.
Then Kate makes her way back into my memory, leaving me feeling guilty. I try to remind myself that our vows stated until death do us part, so technically, I’m a free man. So why do I feel like I’m cheating on her? I know it’s stupid, but I can’t get over it.
Minutes turn to hours and hours turn to days. Days turn to weeks. I work on myself every minute, always reminding myself to think of the future instead of the past. That’s hard to do when you’re trying to keep someone’s memory alive for the sake of your little girl. I have to learn to talk about her objectively. I tell Margo things about her mom, but I think of it as a history lesson. Like I’m talking about someone I didn’t personally know. I may as well be talking about George Washington. I try to remain detached. It’s the only way that I’ve found to work around it.
It’s late August now. It’s been more than a month since I last saw Violet and the urge to see her gets stronger every day. But I don’t want to go dragging Margo back into this, so after I drop her at daycare, I make the journey across town to the bakery. I walk in like usual, and the bell above the door rings.
“Just a sec!” she calls out from the back.
I walk up to the counter with my hands in my pockets, waiting.
The swinging door opens, and she comes rushing out. “How can I help?” she starts but then her eyes find mine, and the words fall from her lips. She mentally prepares herself. I can see it in the way she nods her head once and squares her shoulders, like she’s ready for whatever I can throw at her.
I offer up a friendly smile. “What’s going on, Violet?”
Her eyes widen in surprise. She looks around, then her eyes are right back on me. “Where’s Margo? Is she okay? Is she hurt or sick?”
“No, no,” I say, holding my hand up, palm facing her. “She’s fine. I signed her up for daycare a while back. I figured it would give me more time to work, and she would make some friends before school starts this fall.”
“Oh,” she says, body starting to relax. “That’s a good idea. How’s she liking it?”
I nod. “She really likes it. Every day, when I pick her up, she has some new story to tell me.”
She nods and pulls her eyes from mine.
“She really misses you.”
She looks up with a sad smile. “Well, tell her that I really miss her too.”
“I will,” I agree.
“So, what can I get ya? Coffee, breakfast?”
“I’ll have a cup of coffee and a glazed donut.” I wonder how in the hell I can bring this up.
She gets busy getting out my donut, which she puts in a small bag like it’s a takeout order and then she pours a cup of coffee into a paper cup. She sets both things down on the counter, then rings me up. “That’ll be four sixty-five.”
I hand over my card, and her hand lightly brushes against mine. I feel the shock race through me.
“Can we talk?” I ask as she’s handing the card back.
“Talk?” Her brows furrow together.
I nod. “About us?”
“Oh, you want to talk about us. Well, there’s not much to talk about. We haven’t been an us in…well, ever.”
“I know, and that’s what I want to talk about. Will you come over later? After Margo goes to bed. I really don’t want to drag her back into this if it can be avoided. Not until…not now, anyway,” I say, changing my mind. I was going to say not until we’re sure of our relationship, but I don’t know if she wants a relationship and I don’t want to count my eggs before they hatch.
“Um, I don’t know, Carson. I mean, is that a good idea? Being close to one another again? I mean, we couldn’t even handle that before.”
“I promise I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. We’ll just sit out on the back deck, have a beer, and talk.”
She nods. “Okay. One drink.”
I show her my palms again. “One drink. That’s all,” I promise.
She nods.
“So, I’ll see you around nine? Just to make sure that Margo is good and asleep?”
“I’ll be there,” she agrees.
I nod and smile, taking my things and turning for the door. I pull it open but pause before stepping through it. “Oh, and Violet?”
She turns to face me.
“You look beautiful.”
She smiles but doesn’t reply. I can’t help but to notice how much more beautiful she looks today than before. Her long hair seems even more shiny, her skin slightly dewy. Her eyes are bright and wide, and she seems to have gained a few pounds, but all in the right areas. Her breasts and hips are more curvy now, and I can’t keep them off my mind as I make my way to the truck.
The rest of the day goes by slower than normal. Working on my boat keeps my mind off it for most of the day, but then I have to finish up and go pick up Margo. We come home, have dinner, play, and watch TV, then she goes for a bath and bed. She’s out by eight-thirty, and I take a quick shower in preparation for Violet. At nine on the dot, she’s knocking on the door.
I open it with a smile, happy that’s she’s finally arrived. “Hey, come in.”
“I hope I’m not too early,” she says, stepping into the foyer.
“No, not at all. Marg’s has been out for over a half hour already. Daycare really takes it out of her.” I lead the way into the living room and then to the kitchen. I reach into the fridge. “Beer?”
“No, I’ll just take a water if you have it.”
“Sure,” I say, grabbing a beer for myself and a bottle of water for her. “Don’t trust yourself to be drunk around me, huh?” I say in a teasing tone, but I can’t help but to think that’s what it is.
She laughs. “Something like that. The last couple of times we drank together, we ended up in bed. Maybe beer is the common denominator.”
I smile as I lead her out onto the back porch. We both take a seat. The nerves settle in.
She takes a drink of her water, then turns to look over at me. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
I look out over the lake instead of at her. I don’t know if I can bear to see the look on her face if she turns me down. “Well,” I start with a deep breath and then blurt out, “I miss you, Violet.” I turn to look at her, and her facial expression hasn’t changed. “I miss you and Margo misses you, and we both want you back in our lives.”
She shakes her head. “I miss you guys, too, but Carson, I can’t just be a bandage for the wounds your wife left. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “That’s actually why I’ve waited so long to see you. I’ve been working on all that.”
I look over at her, but she waits.
“Look, I know I was using you before, and I know that because I was completely unwilling to give you any piece of myself in return. I was…being with you—for lack of a better word—and knew that it couldn’t go further than that. But this last month without you, it’s made me realize that I don’t want to live in the past anymore. Living here, with you, in the present, is better than living in the past. I’m ready now. If you’ll still have me. I want to be a friend to you, a boyfriend, a lover, someone you can fall back on and trust not to hurt you. I want to be anything you need.”
I look over and I can see the tears building up in her eyes, but they haven’t yet fallen. She’s not looking at me. She’s looking out over the dark lake, watching the soft waves and ripples. She takes a deep breath and I hold mine, not knowing what she’s going to say. Will she tell me it’s too late? Will she be happy that I’m finally here, with her? Finally, her eyes meet mine, and her lips part. “Does that include being a father?”