Carolyn wanted to apologize. “Charlie.” Maybe she should’ve left that box of pictures in the garage. She should’ve left the yearbooks under the house.
“I wasn’t thinking about Charlie. I’ve been thinking about you, Carolyn.” She looked uncertain. “It was hard for me to turn you over to Oma. I don’t think you have any idea how much I love you. I do, you know. I always have.”
Carolyn couldn’t catch her breath. When she did, she put her head against her knees and cried.
Dawn awakened when Granny got out of bed. She didn’t move or speak as Granny quietly left the room. Dawn heard Granny speaking softly. Then Mom started to cry. Easing out from under the covers, Dawn wrapped Papa’s old robe around herself and approached the door.
Finally, Lord.
She pressed her fingers against her trembling lips.
Mom didn’t say anything.
God, please, help her speak. I don’t mean to be selfish, but I need them to work things out.
“Carolyn?” Granny spoke softly, tentatively. “Why are you crying?”
Dawn covered her face and prayed.
Carolyn turned her head and gave her mother a watery smile. “I didn’t think you even liked me.”
“Can you tell me why you thought that?”
Her mother looked so bleak, so concerned, Carolyn decided it was time to unlock the door and open it a little. “A lot of reasons.”
“You said I yelled at you to get out of my bedroom. Is that why?”
“Yes, but I understand that now.” It wasn’t what her mother had done as much as what she hadn’t. “You never allowed me to sit close to you. You never held me on your lap or kissed me.”
“I couldn’t, Carolyn. The TB.”
“You couldn’t wait to get your hands on May Flower Dawn, Mom. You held and kissed her all the time.”
“I wasn’t sick anymore then.”
Carolyn smiled sadly. “You weren’t sick when we moved to the property.”
Mom bowed her head. “Maybe it became a habit with us.” She raised her head. “I wanted to hold you, Carolyn, but by then you didn’t want anyone but Oma to hold you. I sent her home so I could win you back, but instead, you withdrew. You didn’t seem to want me; you didn’t seem to want friends. You never showed interest until you met Rachel Altman.”
Carolyn’s heart started to pound the way it did in AA meetings when she knew God was nudging her to share. She looked into the fire. She could remain silent and let Mom believe what she did, or she could risk everything and tell the truth. The tension inside her built until she thought her heart would explode if she didn’t say something. “I had one friend.”
“Who?”
She could say Suzie, the girl who moved away. Mom might remember her. “Dock.” His name came out before she thought better of it.
“Dock?”
Her mother didn’t even remember him. It seemed so strange she wouldn’t when Dock had dominated so much of Carolyn’s childhood. “Hickory, dickory, dock.” He didn’t chase mice up a clock. He offered cheese and crackers to a little girl, then drew her slowly into his lair.
It was a moment before Hildie remembered him, but when she did, she went cold. “You don’t mean Lee Dockery, do you?” She could picture the beekeeper next door, his disturbing smile, the way he never looked her in the eye. He’d been polite, but something about him had made Hildie’s skin crawl. They’d told the children to steer clear of him.
She studied her daughter. Carolyn sat hunched, arms locked around her knees, face turned away. Was she trembling? “How did you meet him?”
“Charlie took me over to his house. Before you and Dad told us to stay away.”
Hildie pressed a hand against her stomach, trying to ignore the uneasy feelings stirring inside her. The man had mysteriously vanished around the same time Carolyn started having nightmares. Hildie had worried that there might be a connection, but Trip had assured her there couldn’t be. No. Please, God, no. “Did you go back to see him?
“Yes.”
“Often?”
“Yes.” Carolyn pulled her knees in tighter to her chest and kept her head down. “At first, I sat by the fence and just watched him take honeycombs from the hives. He’d talk to me. He told me all about his bees. He gave me pieces of honeycomb. It dripped all over me once, and I started crying because I thought Daddy would be mad and he’d give me another spanking. Dock said I could come inside his house and wash off. He let me take a bath while he washed my clothes. He told me how lonely he was all by himself.”
Hildie closed her eyes tightly. Oh, God, oh, God! Why couldn’t my little girl come to me?
“I went back the next day and the next. He’d give me crackers and honey…”
Hildie clenched her hands. Her daughter had always loved baths. Hildie remembered being so tired by the end of the day; she’d wash Carolyn quickly, efficiently, like a nurse with a patient. Just get the job done. “Don’t dawdle, Carolyn,” she’d say. “It’s time for bed.” Hildie had been so tired, afraid she would get sick again. She needed to get some rest.
“Dock put the lid down on the toilet and talked to me while I was in the tub. He’d tell me stories.” She closed her eyes tightly. “Later…”
The fire cracked. The rain drummed on the roof. A pulse beat in Hildie’s head.
“What happened later?”
“He washed me.”
Hildie fought rage and sorrow. What had she been doing that had been so important she hadn’t noticed her daughter missing? Was she tending the vegetable garden? planting walnut trees? hanging up laundry? Busy, always busy with something! There had always been something to do. Charlie had been off on his bike visiting friends. She’d assumed her quiet, timid little girl was close by, picking flowers, making mud pies, watching butterflies. How could she have been so blind?
“We played games.”
Hildie bit her lip. She and Trip had moved to the country so their children would be safe, so they’d have plenty of fresh air and sunshine. She felt sick with premonition, but had to know. “What sort of games, Carolyn?”
“Secret games, he called them. Touching games.” Carolyn spoke so softly.
Hildie gave a soft sob and pressed her hands over her mouth. Carolyn glanced up sharply, eyes wide. She looked down quickly, putting her arms over her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her body shook.
When Carolyn tried to get up, Hildie reached out and pulled her back against her legs, pinning her there, arms wrapped around her. Sobbing, she rested her head on Carolyn’s until she could speak. “It’s not your fault, honey. It’s mine.” She felt a shudder go through Carolyn and held on tighter. “It’s my fault, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
Carolyn started to cry again, body relaxing, giving in. Hildie didn’t let go of her. She stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She hadn’t been there when her little girl needed her, and she might never be able to forgive herself for that. But she could try to comfort the woman in her arms now.
Carolyn wiped her face with her sleeve. “I knew I wasn’t supposed to go there, Mom, but he was nice to me. He held me and kissed me and said he loved me.” She gulped down a sob. “I was stupid. I was so stupid!”
“You weren’t stupid. You were a child.”
“He didn’t hurt me until the last time. And then there was blood, a lot of blood, and he cried. I was so scared. And he wouldn’t let me go until I promised… He said we’d both be in big trouble if I told anyone what we’d been playing. At first, he told me not to come back. Then he came to my window that night and said he loved me. He wanted me to be his little girl. He said he was going to look for a safe place for us. I’d know when he found it because he’d leave some honey at the front door. I don’t think I dreamed it all. It was so real.”