I look around the grounds and spot Chuck. No Big Bird suit this year, but it’s hard to miss the six-six behemoth. I also recognize the attractive woman who is hanging on his every word. Ms. Stevens, Carolyn’s teacher. It’s actually Lindsey Stevens and she and Chuck have built a friendship. No, they aren’t dating. He still has a long way to go before that is even a possibility. She’s not technically a widow, but her boyfriend of six years died in a skiing accident almost two years ago. So they have that in common, and can probably have honest conversations on subjects that would be awkward for the rest of us and we could never relate to anyway. She’s also a huge hockey fan. I think there is a definite possibility down the line. Hope for the future—a reason to get out of bed. But we’ve all learned how fast life can change and try to focus on the now.
Chuck is also chasing some dreams in other areas. He became an assistant coach for the minor league hockey team in Bridgeport, about a half hour east of New Canaan. Maybe he’ll coach the Montreal Canadiens one day. Carolyn is no longer allowed to play, but she’s “working on it.”
On the whole, I guess Chuck has handled Beth’s loss as well as could be expected. He’s often his jovial self during the “on” hours, but a few times, after he’s put Carolyn to bed, I’ve caught him staring off into space with tears streaming down his face. We’re guys so we don’t hug and immediately talk about our feelings. I usually give him a few moments and then make up an excuse to go get a beer at Durazzo’s. And after we sip on beers and talk some sports, we get around to talking about the tough subjects.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Dana’s beautiful smile. It warms me inside.
“We pulled it off,” she says with her patented optimism, which has pleasantly returned after a year in which cynicism penetrated her world.
“Thanks to you,” I say.
A devilish grin comes over her face. “What do you say we sneak off to the cottage and you show me your Amish rifle?”
I smile back. I know you’re thinking that after the events of last fall that we realized what was in front of us, leapt into each other’s arms and never let go. But we didn’t. In fact, although it’s completely illogical, at first we went back to our bad habits and defense shields. Dana was devastated by the loss of Beth. Everyone she’s ever loved had left her and it would’ve been understandable if she gave up on the whole hope thing. She was the true abandoned child of the family. It became my job to return the favor, by keeping the torch of hope alive.
The winter was barbarically cold last year, and Dana grew even colder. But we kept up our working relationship, which became more about working and less about wishful thinking when The Adventures of Peanut Butter & Jelly got published. We began a twenty-city book tour this past summer. After a book signing in Seattle on Labor Day, last Monday, and exactly one year after I first wandered into the Whitcomb’s life, everything changed. Since I don’t write romance novels, I’ll spare you the details.
We told Chuck and Carolyn during “movie night” this past Friday. He responded to what we thought was life-altering news by saying, “What took you so long?” Carolyn just scrunched her face in thought—she had no idea how anything was different. Then she called us “silly” and returned to watching Slap Shot.
I take another look at Dana and again see hope for the future. I’m about to take her up on her offer to go hunting with Amish rifle, but she’s whisked away by Evelyn’s drama of the moment. I remain seated and take in what is left of a perfect day. I hear the roar of children in the distance and I smile. I recognize many of those gathered in what I’d describe as a “muddled huddle.” Anna, Maddie, Claudia Kiely, Tanya, who is Carolyn’s friend with cystic fibrosis, and Lil’ Hawk, who is up to no good as usual.
Then out of the mob, a little girl begins running toward me. I recognize the run. It’s the run of fearlessness. It’s a run that’s full of life. It’s Carolyn’s run.
She arrives at my feet, huffing and puffing.
“Out of breath? See, I told you it’s all downhill once you turn five,” I say with a smile.
She dramatically catches her breath, ignoring my attempt at humor. Once she stops hyperventilating, she says, “We’re gonna ride bikes in the coldysack. Wanna come watch us?”
I smile at her. She’s still wearing her pink velvet princess dress, but has added grass stains to it, which will probably make Chuck happy and Dana cringe. Her hair is a creation Dana calls a French braid and Carolyn terms a le French braid. But her most important accessory is the rose necklace that hangs from her neck. A magical heirloom passed on from her mother via Calvin. Many people hang a symbol of their savior around their neck—the one who sacrificed their own life for theirs. In that regard, Carolyn is no different.
Sometimes in life a rare feeling comes over you where you realize a fleeting moment is perfect and you need to capture it in your mind forever. I’m in one of those moments right now and I take a mental snapshot of the special little girl who can’t feel physical pain, yet taught me that I need to feel pain to truly live. And the ironic thing is, when I ended the numbness and exposed my heart to the pain of life once again, I no longer felt pain. Confusing, I know—kind of like life, I guess.
I remain in the peace of the moment and don’t want to move. “I’ll come watch in a little bit—I’m just going to relax for a while, princess,” I say.
Her big hazel eyes turn defiant—like her mother’s. Then she flashes me a big toothy grin and reaches out her hand to grab onto. “Stick together, remember?”
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Thank you so much for reading Painless! If you would like to find out more about Painless or myself, please go to www.derekciccone.com. Email: derekbkclb@yahoo.com.
And would love your support and/or feedback at the Painless Facebook fan page: Derek Ciccone Book Club.
One last note: Congenital Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis (CIPA) is a real ailment. Less than 100 cases are currently known in the United States.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Epilogue