Charlotte continued to keep her distance from Luke, despite running into him everywhere. When she went to Ruth’s, he would stop by. If she went to the QuikStop for a lemonade, he would be putting gas into his muddy green pickup.
And if she laid in bed with the lights off and listened to the cicadas and the crickets, there he was. Plodding down from the main house, to check the locks on her little cottage before finding his way back up the narrow wooden staircase to the main driveway and Ruth’s house. Charlotte listened until she heard him turn on his truck and drive away.
There was something about this evening ritual that made her inexplicably happy. She didn’t know Luke, not really. She knew Ruth, and she knew some of Luke’s friends. And she even knew that he had married Ruth’s daughter, Rachel and that she had died two years ago.
She knew he worked as a landscaper and that he was kind and thoughtful and boyishly charming, when he wasn’t being stubborn and sarcastic. Knowing that this man, even though Charlotte had invaded the cabin where his memories lived was checking on her every night had her resisting the urge to melt into her pillow with a dreamy smile every night.
Therefore, whenever Charlotte saw him out in town, or weeding the gardens at Ruth’s, she was about as warm and cuddly as she’d ever been with the waiter at her favorite restaurant. I acknowledge your existence. I am even kind of grateful you are here. But we are not friends. She nodded at him, and if pushed, she would say hello and exchange the obligatory “how are you” small talk.
On Saturdays, Todd, Chrissy, Mandy, and some other friends went out to the only restaurant in town other than the diner—the Bulldog Bar and Grill. Charlotte had a standing invitation to join as well. She decided to join them after having been in Minden for a few weeks. When Charlotte asked about the name of the establishment, she was informed that back when Minden had its own high school, they were the Minden Bulldogs. The three closest high schools had consolidated about fifteen years back. The name of the bar was the only thing that remained.
As she listened to Mark tell a funny story about a middle schooler he taught, Charlotte looked around the room. She felt more than saw Luke walk in and approach their table. Greetings from the others filled the air as he walked around the table pulled up a seat across from her. His gaze met hers and he looked at her expectantly.
She raised an eyebrow, “What?”
He chuckled. “Hello, Charlotte, it’s good to see you too.”
She rolled her eyes and blushed, properly admonished. “Hey, Luke.”
* * *
The conversation on the other end of the table picked back up with others chiming in about their embarrassing middle school crushes and mishaps. Luke took the opportunity of semi-private conversation to ask Charlotte some of the questions he’d been saving. Her indifference to him was getting under his skin. When he asked Ruth questions about her, she simply shook her head and told him he’d better ask those questions himself. With her stuck at the table across from him for the evening, he saw his chance and took it.
“What did you do before you came to Minden?” He was curious about that. She’d finally ditched the creases in her jeans, but it was still silky tops and heels strapped to her ankles. She didn’t exactly fit in Minden, but then again, her presence also no longer set him off like nails on a chalkboard.
She stood out here, just slightly more polished. Slightly more well-spoken. Charlotte being in Minden wasn’t like an askew puzzle piece anymore. Luke wasn’t sure if it was her edges that had been softened or if the whole town of Minden had shifted around to make room for the new piece.
Charlotte looked back at him but remained silent. He waited for her to answer. Instead, she gestured to the table beside them. “What do you see at that table?”
Luke leaned in and glanced over, willing to play along. “I guess I see a mother and father, and two happy kids.”
Charlotte nodded, “What else?” She saw much more than the simple explanation he offered, and as always, was hoping that someone else could see it too. But they never did. Not at first.
“What do you mean? What else is there to see?”
“For one, the father is about thirty seconds from losing his temper with the kid who is on his Gameboy. He’s been looking at him and gritting his teeth. He keeps looking at his wife, but isn’t getting any backup. Two, the wife clearly has a favorite son—the one with the blue shirt. Her smile is more genuine every time she looks at him. The bags under her eyes are disguised with makeup. She’s exhausted—maybe didn’t sleep last night, but hiding it from everyone. The favorite son is trying to be good, but he is coveting his dad’s French fries while he eats the fruit ordered as his side. Mom and Dad haven’t said two words to each other in ten minutes.”
Right on cue, the father suddenly grabbed the Gameboy from his son’s hands and leaned in to lecture him in a quiet, stern voice.
Charlotte looked back at him. “I read people, Luke. I notice things. Or, at least I used to.”
Luke didn’t even try to hide his confusion. “Do it again.”
She complied, pointing out an adorably awkward high school couple on what appeared to be a first date, and then dissecting the dynamics within the group of young 20-something females cheering over a toast – who was the ‘alpha’, and who felt like she didn’t belong.
“In a group of women like that, there is always a ringleader. Someone whose presence at the event essentially dictates its collective success or failure. Sometimes it is extremely obvious and plans never solidify until that friend confirms their availability. Sometimes, most of the group isn’t even aware that it works like this. The leader? They’ve never known it any other way. It is normal to them to be the center of attention. See the girl with the blonde hair in a ponytail?”
Luke acknowledged the one she was talking about. “She is friends with the brunette next to her, and the blonde across the table – the one with the red shirt. But she either hadn’t met any of the other women before tonight or isn’t close with them at all. See how she never interjects into the conversation? Except when—yep, just like that—she says something directly to one of her friends, never to the group as a whole.”
Luke watched the interaction as Charlotte narrated it. “How do you see all that? She looks like she is having fun with the group.”
* * *
Showing Luke a glimpse inside her brain was keeping the evening interesting. He asked more questions, and Charlotte’s gaze moved to a couple at a table across the crowded room.
They sat close, his hand on her arm. At first glance, they looked like a couple on a date, enjoying their time together. But Charlotte noticed things others wouldn’t. The man’s eyes were a little too wide, and the woman’s smile was frozen in place.
She was trying to hide it, but she was terrified. Charlotte’s eyes shifted to his hand on her arm and saw it tighten a little more. Looking at Luke, she found him watching her. “Luke, we have to do something.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That table over there. Something’s not right. She doesn’t want to be here with him.”
Luke looked over his shoulder and located the table she mentioned. “Everything looks okay to me, are you sure?”
Charlotte started to get agitated. Her abilities were sometimes a curse. “Please, you have to do something. She’s scared. Look at her eyes, Luke.” She pleaded with the man across from her. “Just her eyes. And look how tight he is holding her arm.”
Luke’s jaw clenched, and his eyes fluttered closed. When they opened, he was already standing up. “Come on, then.”
They walked to the table and immediately, Charlotte saw the grateful look in the woman’s eyes. Responding to the emotion etched on the woman’s face, Charlotte jumped in.
“Oh, wow! I never would have expected to see you here!” Charlotte gave the stranger a reassuring smile and then looked at the man across the table. He didn’t look happy to be interrupted. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Charlotte, her cousin.”
The woman grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the table, “I’m so glad you are here, Charlotte! This is Ray.”
“We really should catch up, it’s been years! You don’t mind, do you Ray?” Without giving him a chance to protest, Charlotte kept talking, spinning a story that would get them out of the situation. “I have to get home to the kids, but why don’t you come over and have a cup of coffee?”
Ray started to protest, but Luke dismissed him with an overly firm handshake. “Nice to meet you Ray. I’m sure your date will be in touch.”
Charlotte and Luke ushered her outside and the woman introduced herself as Jessica.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done.” Jessica shivered. “He seemed harmless enough when we chatted online. I’m such an idiot.”
“You are not,” Charlotte protested. “You were smart to meet him someplace busy like Bulldogs. Just be careful, okay? There’s a lot of creeps out there.”
Luke was silent through the exchange.
What was he thinking? Did he wish he hadn’t asked the question? Maybe seeing the world like I do makes faith impossible.
After Jessica was safely in her car and on her way, they lingered outside. The night was warm and quiet. Luke stood, with his eyes dark and his hands in his pockets. Charlotte knew they were fisted tightly, as she watched his forearm muscles tense. “Luke?” Her quiet question interrupted the calm. When he didn’t respond, she added, “I’m sorry.”
His head lifted quickly. “You’re sorry? What are you sorry for?” He sounded genuinely perplexed. “You may have saved that woman. Only God knows what might have happened if it had gone further. You were amazing. Charlotte, look at me.”
She looked. He started walking toward her. “God sent you here, to Jessica, tonight. I’m grateful I was there, but sweetheart—he sent you.” He emphasized the last word and as he reached her, he took her hand.
“Thank you, Father, for protecting Jessica tonight. For Charlotte’s willingness to help where she saw a need. You are so good, Amen.”
Charlotte was speechless. He called her sweetheart. And then he had prayed while holding her hand. Immediately, her thoughts went back to St. Louis. She flipped through all the reasons she couldn’t get involved with Luke, not the least of which was that she wasn’t staying. Not forever. And Luke was definitely a forever kind of guy.
Uncomfortable, she pulled her hand from his as the restaurant door opened and the family she had analyzed trickled out.
She sighed. “I was a psychologist, Luke. An exceptionally observant one. Like earlier—I said I was sorry because you were upset. I could see the muscles in your jaw clench, and your forearms tighten. Your eyes were narrowed. And you were upset. But then, I said I was sorry and you weren’t upset with me. So why? I don’t understand.” I need to understand. Am I really that far off my game? He was upset. What other reason could there have been except he didn’t want to be pulled into this?
Luke clicked his tongue. “I’ve always been told I was hard to read… but you are right. I was upset. But I wasn’t angry with you. I was angry with the situation. With myself for not seeing what you saw so clearly. With the man who couldn’t accept that a woman wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted to walk back into Bulldogs and find Jessica’s date and teach him a lesson.” He smiled wryly. “I was about to… until you said my name. Then it evaporated.”
After a beat, Charlotte said what she had been thinking for minutes. “You called me sweetheart.” She tried to sound accusing, but she only sounded curious. Having his attitude toward her shift so dramatically over the last few weeks had really confused her.
He looked struck. “I did?” After the shock, Charlotte saw pain in his eyes.
“Yeah.” Her lame reply hung in the air between them.
Luke looked away, eyes down and to the left. After a beat, he said, “I should really go. Do you have a ride?”
Charlotte blinked at the subject change. “Umm, yeah. I’m good.” Luke was absolutely crazy. One minute he tells her to leave town and never come back, and the next he calls her sweetheart and holds her hand. And then he’s back to stilted sentences and chilly words. Charlotte was exhausted even trying to keep track of where she stood with him.
“Okay, then. Goodnight, Charlotte.”
Charlotte stood alone in the light of the single streetlamp and watched him walk away.