Resolutions | Carol

Understanding

I got off the train and straightened my coat, checked the positioning of my hat and replaced my gloves on my hands. There was a bit of walk between the station and the park, which I looked forward to. I hoped it would make the later moments more tolerable. It made my stomach wretch, the idea of showing people Carol. Letting them know her a little more, a little deeper. I didn't want them to see her as the photos showed her, weak. Because she is so much more than that, beyond anything anyone can ever contemplate. The ground was crisp with frost and it crunched beneath my feet. Each individual blade of grass clung to my heeled boots, dragging my step, making my gait heavier. The bones of trees seemed to cower towards me, trying to grasp at my coat from every angle. The air tried to coax the folder of photos out of my arms, prying me, coercing me into submission. I walk past a flower vender, which always had better arrangements in summer, they tend to close in the winter. Today was no exception. I knew that had a permanent store, a floristry shop which would hold flowers all year around as the shop had a little more warmth. The thoughts of flowers managed to stray my mind from the harshness of the park and the thorns of conversation.

The sight of Danny managed to break away at the cold isolation and I wanted to be wrapped in his companionship, he has always had a deeper view on the world. Which I adore, he speaks like a sonnet comprising tales out of his adoration for people. All people, he never spoke poorly of anyone, even in his drunken nights or tired days. But today, I knew things would be dissimilar. Our conversation would turn ropey and our stances would be strained.

"Hey, Therese." He called at me as if I hadn't noticed him or even intended to meet him.

"Danny." He opens his arms and I allow myself to be enfolded in them.

"How are you? I haven't seen you in a while."

"Sorry I've been busy..." Moving, I have been busy moving to a new house, but I can't say that without questions arising. If Carol were here, she would be smart and would strategically place words to evade questions. "Working etcetera." I pause, being shifted by nerves. "How have you been?"

"Good, yeah... my pal from The Times said you're a big hit."

"Ha. Thanks." I shrug of the complement as it seems ironic, knowing of the photos that are tucked under my arm. "Shall we sit?" I gesture to a bench a couple of paces down beside the path, we walk side by side with our strides linking together in formality. We both sit, and I place the folder on my lap. If Danny were like most people, he would ask why I wanted to see him. But he knew how I may want to see someone for no particular reason. Which, for the most part, was an accurate assumption.

"What's in the folder?" He asked so friendly, as if it were a child asking for a gift at Christmas.

"Do you remember the woman I went away with?"

"Erm... I know you went away with someone... I can't remember who..." It seemed outrageous that anyone could lose the image of her face over time. I shuffled the first photograph from the folder, it was one of Carol at the tree farm. I wanted to remind him of how she had looked, in her prime.

"Here." I show him the photo, and he takes it from my hand. "She is a friend of mine; her name is Carol."

"Yeah I remember her now." Just talk to him, Therese, talk to him.

"Well. She is going through a divorce and her husband is being... reluctant." I pause, trying to hold back the breaking in my voice. "I had wanted to ask you a favour..."

"Sure."

"Her husband... He went over to her new house and did this to her." I pass him the folder, and let him look at them himself, my hands tremble furiously. The sound of the photos flicking over made me churn.