Page 15 of Every Little Kiss
“Of course not. Had I known he’d be gone all day and I would be nothing more than a chauffeur, I would have planned more day outings with my friends.”
“Carolyn, I didn’t intend for it to feel that way,” Liv said.
“I know you didn’t, but I came here to spend a few weeks with my grandson, help him adjust before kindergarten.” Carolyn went silent, and Liv’s warning bells started ringing. “Not that it matters. He said he didn’t want to go back to camp.”
Liv perked up. “He said that?”
“Yes. Why do you sound so happy?”
“Because he talked to you after a rough day. That’s huge!”
Paxton had left with his dad a healthy, talkative three-year-old, excited for a white Christmas at his grandparents’. And he’d come home a boy who was terrified to speak.
On rare occasions, when Carolyn had spent a significant amount of time with him, he’d speak to Liv in front of Carolyn. But he hadn’t communicated directly with Carolyn since before the accident.
“He was talking to that dog of his. I was just the eavesdropper,” Carolyn admitted.
“He was talking to you,” Liv said gently. “Using Superdog Stan is his way of working through his anxiety.”
“You said the same thing when he insisted that a caped dog flew down from the sky to rescue him from the accident.” Carolyn’s tone was terse. Full of judgment.
“That story is how his little brain dealt with such a tragic loss. He’ll outgrow it.” It was the same thing Liv had been telling herself since first hearing Paxton’s account of the rescue. If anything, he’d become more insistent that the imaginary dog was real.
And that, more than his silence, worried Liv.
“Well, something needs to change, because I told him not going back wasn’t an option.” Which would have made Pax feel even more anxious.
“How did that go over?” Liv asked.
“He locked himself in his room,” Carolyn said, busying herself with brushing imaginary dust off her cuff.
“He works better with options.” And before Carolyn could regurgitate all the research on the safety created by setting boundaries and how effective tough love could be, Liv added, “But I’ll talk to him.”
Compromise, Liv told herself. It was the only way they’d get through this as a family. Carolyn wasn’t trying to be difficult—she was just trying to help. She’d lost her son that day, and all she had left of him was Paxton. Liv could relate to her need to control.
Liv poured herself a glass of wine. Carolyn raised a big questioning brow. “Oh, do you want a glass?”
Carolyn looked horrified—and a bit judgy. “It’s not even five o’clock.”
Liv looked at the clock—damn, only 4:25—and set the glass down. Plastering a smile on, she said, “Thanks for helping out today. He may not have expressed it, but he loves it when you come over.”
“I love him and just want to see him flourish like ...” Carolyn’s voice trailed off, and her face filled with heartache and worry. “Like a normal boy.”
“I know,” Liv said, wanting the same thing but unsure of what normal even looked like when a kid lost half of his world.
With a shaky nod, Carolyn picked up her purse and keys off the counter. “I put a casserole in the oven, a scrapbooking flyer one of the moms gave me is on the fridge, and remember, I’m visiting with friends in Tahoe City for the next couple of days.”
“Have fun.” Liv felt the air lighten, the sun grow brighter. Two whole casserole-free days on her forecast. “I swapped shifts with Margery so I can pick him up from camp.”
Olivia thought about the other moms who would be there, most likely the same moms who had been in Paxton’s preschool, and she cringed. Maybe he could skip tomorrow. It wasn’t like George Washington had gone to superhero camp, and he’d created a nation.
“Tell Paxton Grandma loves him and hopes he goes back to camp.”
So much for playing hooky.
“Will do. And Carolyn,” Liv said right as her mother-in-law was about to leave the kitchen, “I miss him too.”
Carolyn paused on the threshold and slowly turned around. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Sometimes it feels as if I’m the only one who’s still hurting.”
