Destined For Them (Story 3)✔

~4~

~Caroline~

If felt like my chest was being ripped out over and over again and that was the best way to explain it. I didn't want to deal...didn't want to even think about what could have happened or was happening to my precious baby girl. I'd tried different things to cope in the nine days that I had kept myself locked away in the master suite; Movies, music, books and nothing would help. Not even my time with Sol on the patio, for fuck's sake. Unless it was booze. Or sleeping pills. They didn't make me dream. 

Today would more than likely be no different than the others. Except I'd actually managed to drag myself out of bed, have a shower and dress in something other than a slip. I'd been less than enthused to blow dry my hair and run a brush through it. When I'd sauntered my way downstairs, the house was quiet and in the kitchen I found one of Sol's employee's from the company sweeping the kitchen. Ethel or Eunice something. A cleaning lady...

Upon my entrance, she paused and smiled-such a forced smile. "Mrs Sp-"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, going around the island and opening up the glass cabinet above the sink where some wine, champagne and liquor glasses were kept. My choice was obvious. "Picking up my slack?" I gave her a half-assed sideways scowl and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. She was about the same age as our dear Gwen had been but Gwen had been different. Strong. Didn't take shit. This woman though-Ethel or Eunice-would kiss my feet if I commanded. It was sad. 

"Mr. Specter asked me to come keep the house up while you're not feeling well. Would you like some coffee?" While I'm not feeling well...I supposed there was some truth to that. My heart was ill. I ignored her offer and filled the glass halfway with ice. Built into the island was a liquor cabinet and I reached in, taking the first bottle my hand touched. Great. Grey Goose. The disapproving look on the cleaning lady's face just brought a smile to my lips. 

"Carry on," I lifted a brow that was probably in dire need of a waxing and took my drink out back. Instead of sitting on one of the chairs from the other night, I went to the other side of the patio where there was a cushioned bench. The glass from that half empty vodka bottle was cleaned up now. Once I was settled in, I took a smoke from the nearly empty Marlboro pack out of my sweater and lit up. There were some things Thomas could keep a secret. 

I'd figured getting some fresh-although cold-air would be good but as I puffed on the cigarette my chest started to ache. The pool was covered and I knew that in the summer time Lydia would have a blast splashing around. The jungle gym was deserted-a place where my daughter escaped and called her princess tower. It was nearly too much to think about and as tears filled my sore eyes, I lifted the glass to my lips with a shaky hand. Dear God, what was I going to do? 

Before I found an answer, the sliding glass door came open and Christopher emerged in jeans and a light jacket. It was the last thing I needed and when he came over and sat beside me it was too much to bear. "I know you're sad, Caroline. I'm sor-" He started. I couldn't take people apologizing or feeling sorry for me. I was doing that well enough on my own. I stood up rather quickly and some of my drink sloshed out of the glass. 

"Don't, Chris. Please." With blurry eyes, I went back into the house and through the kitchen. A vacuum was whirring in the living room when I went up the stairs. I knew that Christopher was only a child, which made him being sorry, so much worse. I'd tried to leave the room and this is where it had gotten me, back to tears. Sitting on the edge of the bed now, I gulped the remaining contents down of my drink, with some effort and there was no holding back the bawl that came. 

I laid against the lavish pillows and cried myself to sleep. Thankfully, the dreams I had of Lydia weren't nightmares. For a little while, I spent time with her, even if it was just a dream. When I finally woke up, a mild headache threatened to become a full-blown migraine if I didn't take something soon. When I glanced at the clock beside the bed, it was just after noon.