Caroline

Chapter 12

Feeling as though she could no longer support her own weight standing, Caroline slowly sank to the floor and leaned her forehead against the chair.  Michael joined her there and laid a large, warm hand on her back, but said nothing.

"How did he find me?"  She knew there was a whine to her voice.  That, combined with the tears that were still falling, made her feel incredibly weak and stupid.  What would her father have said to her then, if he'd seen her huddled and crying on the floor?  Instead of stiffening her resolve, the thought brought sobs to blend with the tears.  Her rock, the source of everything that had made her strong, was gone.  She was all alone in this, and she was not at all sure she could survive it.

Gradually, she became aware of Michael's hand moving in circles over her back and shoulders.  Like a small child, she turned to him, seeking comfort.  He opened his arms for her, and she crawled onto his lap, huddled there, and pressed her face against his chest.  His hands stroked her back and hair as he made shushing and cooing sounds into her ear.  He continued to hold her through every sob and tremor, and when she had cried her final tear, he still held her.

Finally, she lifted her head and surveyed the damage she had done to his shirt.  "Oh, no...." 

He looked down at himself.  "Eh,"  he said, with a shrug of his shoulders.  "It'll wash."

She looked into his eyes then.  "Thank you,"  she whispered.

"Any time,"  he responded with a sad smile, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this..."  she began.

He stopped her with a light tap of a finger to her lips.  "I'm glad I was able to be here when you needed someone."  After a pause, he added, "You know you have to talk to him."

"I don't"  She sounded childish to her own ears.

"You need closure; you both do."

"You don't think cutting off all contact closed it enough?"  A sarcastic child, now.

"Not for you, or you wouldn't have reacted the way you did."

Dread settled upon her.  "How much did you see?"

He looked puzzled by her question.  "I saw him holding you against your will while you told him to put you down.  Why?  What else happened that I didn't see?"

She closed her eyes and lowered her head.  "I kissed him.  I was mad as hell, and totally shocked, and so glad to see him that I kissed him."

"Oh...  Well, then, ...maybe..." He swallowed, then cleared his throat.  "...maybe 'closure' isn't the right word..."

"But I want it to be."

He touched his forehead to hers.  "Are you sure?"

She rocked her head from side to side against his.  "I'm not sure of anything any more."

"I'm a pretty good listener if you want to talk.  Why are you here?"

She pulled her head away from his, but couldn't meet his eyes.  "The day I sat and watched my father die, Derek was in our home with another woman."

Michael's hold on her tightened slightly.  "I can see how that would piss you off.  Must have been a hell of a fight when you confronted him."

"I didn't.  I couldn't.  When I saw them there together, I was already numb with grief.  All I could do was get away."

"But later...?"

She shook her head.  "No.  I know how vulnerable I've been.  I was afraid if I saw him, if I even spoke to him, I would run straight back and forgive him everything.  But I don't want to hurt anymore, and he has the power to absolutely destroy me."

She watched his adams apple bob up and down.  "You still love him," he said.

"Derek was the only man, other than my father, who ever made me feel that I mattered to him.  But now I can't be sure that it wasn't all my imagination...  that he wasn't just using me the entire time..."

"You love him, but you don't trust him."

She gave him a bitter smile.  "A wise friend of mine once said, 'Just because you love someone, doesn't mean you can live with 'em'."

She thought she felt Michael stiffen a bit.  "A wise friend, indeed," he said.  "What would be that friend's advice now?"

Caroline pondered this for a moment, then looked at him with a blush beginning to form.  "Hannah would say, 'The sooner you get the thorn out, the sooner it'll quit hurting.  You leave it in, it's gonna fester."

"Hannah..." he said with a crooked smile.  "...sounds like a very wise woman."

"I'm sure she is.  But she was still a girl the first time she imparted that piece of wisdom to me.  We lost track of each other several years ago."

"That's a shame..."  He looked directly at her.  "So, are you gonna take her advice and talk to him?  Or let it fester?"

"Isn't there an option C?"

He shook his head.  "If there is, I'm not smart enough to know about it.  I do know that when you avoid what's necessary, things only keep getting worse."

"You know some serious stuff, for a gamer-boy."

"I've dealt with some shit, too, you know.  Hey.... " he continued, before she could ask any questions, "...another thing I know is that something smells really good in here."

"Crap!"  Caroline scrambled up without a hint of grace or dignity.  "I haven't cut the dumplings yet!"

"Go cut your dumplings, Jelly.  You don't happen to have a washing machine I can toss this shirt in, do you?"

She couldn't tell if she was blushing again or still.  "There's a stacked set in the closet beside the bathroom.  Detergent's on the shelf."

He had already begun unbuttoning as he walked down the hall.  "Looks like this undershirt is still ok."

Pity, she thought, remembering how firm his chest had felt.  She then turned back to her interrupted dinner preparations.