Chapter Six

Charlie

“You’re up early.”

I put the coffee pot back on the warmer and turn to see Mom coming into the kitchen.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“The opposite, actually,” I tell her. “I slept soundly for the first time in weeks and didn’t wake up exhausted. And I didn’t consume half a bottle of wine in order to get me to sleep this time around.”

“What led to this change?”

“Todd called.” I add cream to my coffee, waiting for Mom to say something. “And we had a decent talk, well until he tried to get me to have phone sex with him.” I shudder.

“You’re not…you’re not thinking about…”

“Getting back together with him? Oh hell no. But it did give me some closure. We fought a lot, Mom, and I can finally admit that. I never wanted to tell anyone, thinking it might make them not like Todd.” I bring my hot coffee to my lips and take a careful sip. “And I should have known something wasn’t right when he delayed the wedding the first time and I was kind of okay with it. And then talking to him last night…it reminded me of all the issues I was so willing to overlook, and now I just can’t understand why I was going to do that.”

I lean against the counter. “I don’t miss him anymore, Mom. I’m not all that sad. In fact, I feel like I dodged a bullet, and that feels wrong. I should be sad, right? It’s only been a few weeks.”

“I have a girlfriend, Bonnie, who lost her husband suddenly to a heart attack. Five months after his funeral, she was going on dates again. You can imagine the scandal it caused amongst our little social group. But her heart was ready and dating new men didn’t mean she missed her husband any less. As she put it, it made her realize how short life is and how she didn’t want to live out her remaining days focusing on the pain.”

Mom pours coffee into a mug. “I know your situation isn’t the same, but my point is to show you there isn’t a right amount of time to grieve a loss. And you suffered a loss, just in a different way.”

I cup my hands around my coffee mug and stare into the light brown liquid as if it’s going to shift into a magic mirror and give me all the answers.

“I did,” I agree. “And I never thought I’d say this out loud, but I think what upset me more wasn’t that I was losing Todd, but that I’d have to tell people my life sucks. I was more worried about being embarrassed and judged than I was to lose the man I thought I’d marry.”

“That’s understandable, and you’ve always put a lot of pressure on yourself, honey. But it’s okay, I promise you, it’s okay. People mess up and make mistakes and have bad things happen to them. What matters is how you react to the event more so than the event in itself.”

I nod. “Hiding out in my old bedroom is more embarrassing than being cheated on.”

“You’re allowed to be sad and allowed to take time to heal, Charlotte,” Mom says, using my full name to drive the point home. “But you can’t wallow.”

“I’m done wallowing. I already left a message with Daryl about renting an apartment in town, and when Dad gets home tonight, I’m going to talk to him about doing something at the firm. I know there’s not much to do until Timothy Fenton is officially retired, but I can sit in on cases or something to keep busy.”

Mom smiles, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “You’ve always been my strong, smart girl.”

I smile back, not wanting to tell her that the two words she’s used to praise me over the years were part of what made me try to tough it out with Todd. I’m strong. I can handle a few rough nights. Deal with the fights. Work through our issues. I’m smart. I don’t make stupid mistakes…like agreeing to marry the wrong man.

“I just want to be happy again. Which means starting to get my life in order.”

Mom sets her coffee down and comes over, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Your father always wanted you to take over his practice, you know.”

“I do, and I always thought I would. I like Eastwood,” I assure her. “It’s not as exciting as doing real estate law in New York, but this was always my end game, and I was more than happy with it.”

Williams & Beck Attorneys at Law is a far cry from the big company I worked for in New York, but it’s always done well for itself. Todd encouraged me to leave the small town law for something bigger and better, and at the time, it seemed like he was pushing me to get the most out of my education. No one can fault him for wanting me to get a good job, but he never understood the sense of community here in Eastwood.

“That’s all a mother wants, you know.” Mom rubs my back and then goes back to her coffee. “For her children to be happy. Well, within reason. If you said your passion was to be in the adult film industry while selling meth on the side, I might try to persuade you otherwise.”

“That can be very lucrative, you know. Though I’d probably need to get a boob job to do well in p**n.”

Mom laughs, shaking her head. “It’s good to have you home, honey. I wish it were under different circumstances, but having you here just feels right. Like you’re home.”

I look out the window at the tidy but small back yard. Mom teaches art at the local elementary school and is off for the summer. She gardens a lot and makes weird wind chimes out of recycled materials and crystals. She’s the stereotypical new-age artist and is the exact opposite of my lawyer father.

“It does feel like home. But don’t take it personally when I say I’d like to get out on my own.”

Mom laughs and pulls out a stool at the island for me. I take it as my cue to sit while she makes me breakfast.

“I was your age once,” she reminds me with a wink. “And I wouldn’t want to be living with my parents either.”

Right on cue, my phone rings. It’s Daryl, the landlord from the only apartment complex here in Eastwood. We talk for a few minutes, I jot a few notes down and then end the call.

“Well?” Mom asks, turning away from the omelet she’s cooking.

“Good and bad news,” I tell her. “The apartment complex is full, but one tenant is moving out at the end of next month. If I can bring the deposit by today, he’ll reserve it for me.”

“And are you?”

“I’m going to see if there are any nice rentals in town first. I don’t need anything too big or fancy. After living in a tiny studio apartment in the city, anything over five hundred square feet will feel like a mansion.”

“And with what you paid for it…” Mom clicks her tongue and turns back to the stove. “You’re welcome here, you know. Having you here for the summer will be nice too.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It will be.”

*

“That’s something you didn’t get to see in the city, huh, girl?” I run my hand over Tulip’s long fur. She’s sitting in the open window, face pressed up against the screen as she watches a bunch of birds swarm around one of the many bird feeders in the back yard. We had birds fluttering by, of course, but it wasn’t anything like this.

I run my hand over her fur once more and then tighten my ponytail. Stretching my arms out in front of me as I walk, I go downstairs and outside for a run. It’s a little after ten AM now, and the sun is already out and shining brightly down on my face.

It makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. Which it will be. I stretch for another minute or two, turn my music on, and take off. My parents live in the downtown area of Eastwood, and these few blocks look like something out of a Hallmark movie. Most of the houses in this section of town are historic and have been carefully maintained or restored, like my parents’ 1925 craftsman-style house.

I jog down the street, nostalgia filling my heart more and more with each step. Running this block used to be a routine. I’ve passed by these houses, over this patch of uneven sidewalk pushed up by tree roots, every morning. Now, I can’t remember the last time I ran through Eastwood like this.

Eastwood is small in terms of population, but with it consisting of farmland, the actual size of the town is impressive. It won’t take long before the in town part of Eastwood gives way to fields and farms. I slow to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for an old Ford to rumble through the stop sign before crossing the street. I don’t want to go that far today and plan to just run up and down the same streets a few times before going back to my parents’. I want to continue my search for a place to live so I can get my stuff out of storage as soon as possible.

My phone dings with a text, and I look down to see who’s texting me. It’s Marcus, who’s the closest thing I had to a best friend in the city. He’s an interior designer and worked on the floor below me. We coincidentally got into the elevator at the same time more than once, and then discovered that we both have a closet-addiction to Broadway shows, Disney movies, and teen TV dramas.

With us both having crazy busy schedules, we didn’t have much time to hang out but texted regularly. He’s been checking in on me ever since I left New York.

Marcus: Hey lady. Haven’t heard from you in days. How you doing?

Me: Much better today. Looking for apartments here so I can get out of my parents’ house. I feel like things are looking up.

I exit out of my texts right as he sends me another, making a mental note to check it after my run. Inhaling deep, I cross the street and am right about to pick up the pace to a jog again when a little boy on a bike speeds out of his yard and onto the sidewalk.

“Jackson,” a man calls after him. “You gotta wait, buddy.”

My eyes go to the man on their own accord and my heart stops. My mouth goes dry, and I suddenly can’t remember how to move my feet, despite the fact that I just ran over a mile.

He comes down the porch steps holding a tiny baby in his arms. She’s wrapped in a little pink blanket and starts fussing, no doubt from him calling out to the little boy named Jackson.

If there were a lush flowerbed or even a prickly bush nearby, I’d dive right in and pray he didn’t see me. I’d stay there until Jackson sped by on his bike, not wanting to risk moving even a muscle.

But it’s too late, because he’s looking right at me.

“Charlie?”

My mouth opens, but no sounds come out, though I’m pretty sure he can hear the pounding of my heart. Suddenly, the heat of the day comes crashing down on me, and I blink rapidly, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

My eyes fall shut in a long blink, and Idina Menzel’s voice rings out through my earbuds, telling me it’s time to try defying gravity. But it’s like I already am. Because only one person can make me feel that way, like I’m floating and falling at the same time, and the shock of how strong those feelings are coming on makes the dizziness increase tenfold.

I swallow hard and open my eyes. He’s coming closer, cradling the baby to his chest. She looks so tiny in his arms, and he’s put on several pounds of muscle since I last saw him. Is it too late to run and hide?

Yes, yes it is. Because Owen Dawson is walking right to me.