Page 6
As Eleanor slipped away, skirting the outer edge of the large room to join her cousins, Eva pressed into Caitlin’s side, turning her face into Caitlin’s waist, away from the coffin and flowers. Caitlin folded her palm over the back of Eva’s head.
“Mama, this is scary.” Small fingers dug into her hip, a hint of tears in the whisper, and Caitlin eased her hands under sturdy little arms, lifting Eva to balance her on her hip. She’d given up carrying her ages ago, but sometimes a child simply needed to be held.
Palming Eva’s head, she turned toward the door. “We’ll go outside, topolina.”
Easing through the crowd, she carried Eva down the front steps to the small grass area in between the drive and the sidewalk. Her heels sank into the thick grass, requiring careful steps as she moved them a few feet from any of the chatting groups, creating a bubble of privacy. Knees scrunched in at Caitlin’s waist, Eva buried her face against her neck, warm breath puffing over Caitlin’s skin.
Pressing a kiss to Eva’s temple, she rubbed her daughter’s back. “Better?”
Eva nodded, still clinging, and Caitlin smoothed her hair, half expecting Tick to walk out the door to check on Eva. Minutes passed, people coming and going around them, a few casting the curious looks she’d grown accustomed to over them. Eight years together, and she was still that city girl with money he’d married.
When the door swung inward to allow a tall, dark-haired man to exit, he wasn’t Tick, but Chuck, ushering Luke ahead of him. He smiled in greeting, nodding at Eva, then Luke. “Little intense when you’re their age.”
“Yes.” Caitlin found herself smiling back. She liked Tick’s youngest brother, the most laidback of Lenora’s children.
He ruffled Luke’s dark hair. “Little intense at my age, too.”
Her smile widened. “Yes, it is.”
They chatted for several minutes, Eva engaged with Luke, the cousin closest to her age. Finally, Chuck excused himself, called over to speak to acquaintances on the sidewalk between the drive and the parking lot.
And finally, Caitlin abandoned watching the door, sharply aware Tick wasn’t coming to them anytime soon.
Besides being in the isolated middle of nowhere rural Georgia, the old house emitted odd noises at night. With Tick in bed beside her, the isolation and sounds didn’t bother her. Tonight, his absence coupled with his withdrawal, the creaks and groans impinged on her awareness, stretching already taut nerves, so Caitlin abandoned the idea of sleep, opened her laptop, and read evidence reports on a cold case out of Beaumont.
“Mama.” Eleanor spoke from the door, fidgeting with the Woodfield t-shirt she wore over sleep shorts. “I can’t sleep. May I snuggle in with you for a little while?”
Smiling, Caitlin set her laptop aside and flipped the duvet back. “Of course.”
With a relieved sigh, Eleanor climbed in next to her, fluffing the pillows against the headboard and resting against them. She cast a wry look at Caitlin, lashes screening her brown eyes, almost the same shade as Tick’s. “I had a nightmare, then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and this place makes weird noises sometimes. They make me nervous when Daddy isn’t here.”
“I understand that.” Caitlin folded an arm over her shoulders and hugged her. “Do you need to talk about your dream?”
“It’s so stupid.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “When I was little and Aunt Gi died . . . I overheard Uncle Cary talking about coffins being waterproof and what happened if one ended up in the ocean or a river.”
Caitlin cringed.
“I was thinking about that and how weird an open casket viewing is, how Grandma Louise didn’t look like herself tonight.” Eleanor moved her shoulders in a small shrug. “Anyway, that all got jumbled together into a dream, and when I woke up, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Then the stairs were creaking . . . that always sounds like someone is walking up them. It’s weird.”
At Eleanor’s expressive shudder, Caitlin hid a smile.
“Funerals are ridiculous. So are caskets and those vaults they put them in.” Eleanor twisted to look at her. “Did you know there are green burials now, where they wrap you in cloth and bury you in a green space? I’d like that.”
“That sounds very simple and elegant.” She tucked Eleanor’s ruffled hair behind her ear. Eleanor subsided into the pillow, arms folded over her abdomen, staring up at the ceiling. Caitlin waited, aware her mind was rarely still.
After several long moments, she hefted against the headboard, punching the pillow into submission behind her. “Does losing your virginity hurt very much?”
Caitlin swallowed a small, startled noise. “It’s different for every woman.”
“Okay.” Eleanor lifted her gaze heavenward, not quite an eye roll but a definite stop-dodging-me expression. “Was it very painful for you?”
“There was some discomfort, yes.” She smothered a sigh. The questions weren’t unexpected, and she’d worked hard to impart a sex positive attitude to her daughter. “But I wouldn’t call it pain. More like overstretching a muscle.”
Eleanor nodded, a pensive set to her mouth. “Did you bleed?”
“Some.” She’d washed smudges of blood off her thighs while Tick slept on the hard bed in the small beach rental bedroom. “I spotted a day or so after, too.”
Another thoughtful nod. “I’m reading this book, and the main character just had sex for the first time. It hurt a lot, and there was blood. I was simply curious.”
