Charlie
June 4, 2016
THE GLOW FROM the strings of lights became hazy and faraway, and the faces of the couples dancing on the floor in front of me blurred until they were unrecognizable. Until my thoughts were no longer on Knox and Harlow’s wedding reception, or Keith fast asleep in my arms as my fingers trailed over his little back.
Until my mind was consumed with nothing but a stranger’s notes, mentally poring over them again and again as I worried over the next response.
It will come, I told myself. It has to.
One of these days I’m going to come back for you, and your words won’t be here.
That had been the note waiting for me when I’d arrived at work that morning. Below, a phone number, and one final word . . .
Please.
I hadn’t responded, and I hadn’t left my notebook when my shift had ended. I’d spent hours agonizing over whether or not I should message him—because calling him was out of the question—and even longer hating the giddy smile that refused to leave my face, and the stupid fluttering in my stomach.
Because that’s all this was: stupid.
Because, as he’d pointed out, I didn’t know him and he didn’t know me. For all I knew, he was old and married. Or young . . . too young. This was stupid.
But despite every warning I told myself, I sent a message to the number when I arrived at Knox and Harlow’s wedding hours before. One word. Nothing profound; and nothing that would embarrass me if he’d given me a fake number.
Stranger. . .
I blinked quickly, bringing the reception back to focus, when the chair next to me was pulled out and someone filled it.
I looked over my shoulder, and my hand paused on Keith’s back for a second when I took in Graham, so close to me.
“Having fun?”
After a short hesitation, I nodded. “Are you?”
He stretched back in the chair, and took out the scene before us. “Yeah, still seems weird that it’s Knox’s wedding though.”
“Did you think it was going to be the three of you forever?” I asked softly, the teasing evident in my tone.
A short laugh was forced from his chest. His shoulders slid up in the barest of shrugs. “Kind of.”
“Deacon, Graham, and Knox . . . the Three Musketeers,” I mumbled, my eyes fell to my son as a smile touched my lips.
Graham’s next laugh was fuller. “Ah, man. I’d forgotten about that. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“Hard to forget. Knox tried to rescue me from my bag full of chocolate and ended up ripping my costume in front of everyone. I’m pretty sure that Halloween night scarred me and is the reason I never went to another party. Until now.”
Graham leaned closer like he was going to tell me a secret, but stopped a few inches away and nodded toward Keith. “I noticed your dancing partner passed out. Will you dance with me if I promise not to rip your dress in front of everyone?”
The confusion and suspicions I’d been plagued with the past days rose up again at Graham’s question, and I felt my body still and my breathing pause as I studied him. Just as quickly as everything had stopped, it all started up again, this time faster than it had been before.
There had been no fluttering in my stomach or racing heart during our short conversation. My breath hadn’t caught at his smile or laugh, even though Graham had always been one of the most attractive guys in town. But now, now my pulse was erratic and speeding up with each passing second. I couldn’t seem to form words as I tried to make connections between the person sitting next to me, and the one I had been writing to.
“Uh,” I forced out.
“Come on, one dance. We finally got you out in public with everyone, we’re all having fun, you can’t just sit back and watch the party happen.”
I nodded slowly, and then more confidently. “Okay.”
I stood and gently laid Keith across two chairs, then let Graham lead me out onto the dance floor.
The song was an old one, and fast paced. I didn’t have time to let insecurities take over before Graham spun me away, then pulled me closer. A laugh bubbled from my chest before I could attempt to stop it, and then we were moving.
We quickly got lost in the mass of people trying to figure out a way to dance to a song that clearly had no right way of dancing to it. My cheeks burned with heat from trying to let loose for once, as well as the look Grey gave me when she saw me dancing with her older brother.
In that look from Grey, I remembered why I’d let Graham bring me out here at all. But there was no way to try to understand Graham or why he had been so nice lately, and there was no connecting him to a stranger in that moment.
Like before, the fluttering was gone. The racing in my heart was only from our fast movements and the loud music. Even when Graham’s hand slid around mine to pull me toward him, or to quickly spin me away again . . . there was nothing.
All of it, every feeling had only been prompted by the thought that I might be face-to-face with a guy who hid behind pages in my book.
The song ended and transitioned into something slower, more intimate, and I felt myself retreating from the reception and the dance floor before my body could begin doing the same. Almost impulsively, my arm curled around my waist as my head bowed. Just as I began to take a step back, a warm voice came from behind me, and a shiver moved down my spine at the sound.
“Charlie Girl . . .”
Irrational, betraying heart.
My chest rose and fell in an exaggerated movement, and a longing to hear those two words rose up inside me at the same time I wanted to demand he never call me that again. Instead of turning around, I looked up at the suspicion crossing Graham’s face.
One of his eyebrows lifted slowly, but otherwise he didn’t say anything as he stared at his best friend.
“Can I cut in?” Deacon asked.
Graham’s lip curled to match his brow. “Can you be nice?”
Something silent passed between the two, and seconds later, Graham’s face relaxed and he took a step back.
I glanced over my shoulder to find Deacon watching me patiently, his hand slightly extended toward me.
“What do you say?” he asked gruffly.
“I don’t slow dance.”
“Neither do I,” he responded immediately, but still he took a step toward me and slid his hand around my waist.
Deacon turned me slowly and pulled me closer until our bodies were pressed against each other. He grasped my hand in his, and brought our joined hands between our chests as he began rocking us.
Whether or not we were moving to the music, I didn’t know.
Because at that moment, I couldn’t look away from his eyes.
For the first time in so, so long, there was something missing from them. Coldness. Anger. Everything I’d come to expect from Deacon, and everything I’d been shying away from was now replaced with guilt and confusion and wonder.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked. My words were so soft they almost got lost in the music filling the outdoor tent.
“I’m sorry.”
If it weren’t for Deacon leading us, his apology would have halted our movements the way it halted the pounding of my heart.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you. You didn’t deserve it—”
My head tilted to the side and shook once in a subtle plea for him to stop talking. I tried to pull away from him, but he held me tighter, his eyes pled with me to stay as his words tumbled from his lips quickly and quietly.
“—the way you looked at me that day, I can’t stop thinking about it. I hate that you looked like you—”
“Please stop.” My head shook faster as panic started rising in my throat. My gaze quickly moved through the couples on the floor, searching for Jagger and Grey, making sure they weren’t close enough to hear Deacon.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I was stressed out over this—”
“Deacon, stop,” I demanded, my voice still as soft as a whisper.
I finally succeeded at shoving away from his hold, and turned to walk away from him, but he was still there.
Within seconds his arm was around my waist and he was guiding me from the dance floor, past the tables, and out of the tent. As soon as we were a dozen feet away, surrounded in equal parts night and light from the reception, Deacon pulled me into his arms as if we were dancing again.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you talk to me.”
In the back of my mind, I knew it was because he thought I would walk away again, but something about the darkness, his voice, and being with him like this made me shiver again.
Before he could begin talking again, I shook my head quickly to clear my mind of the way he made me feel, and grit my teeth as I focused on my anger. “I don’t want your excuses.”
“They aren’t excuses, I’m explaining why—”
“I don’t need explanations for what you said, either!” I hissed, cutting him off. “All I ever wanted was to know why you suddenly had so much hatred toward me. You told me. That’s it; it’s over. There’s nothing left to explain. You don’t have to apologize for feeling the way you do. And you didn’t have to dance with me to try to make up for some words you said.” I pressed my hands against his chest and pushed, but he held tight to my waist, not willing to let me go.
“It was the only way to get you to talk to me.”
I hated that a part of me had foolishly believed that he would want to dance with me.
Irrational, betraying heart.
“Both were unnecessary. I’m a big girl, Deacon, and as you reminded me, I have a spine; I know how to handle you and move on with my life.”
Deacon’s shoulders sagged, but his eyes burned into mine. “Fuck, Charlie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. Can’t you hear that? Can’t you see that?”
“When have you ever been sorry for anything you’ve said or done in your entire life? That’s part of who you are—that’s part of Deacon Carver—unapologetically arrogant and unaware.”
A few seconds of silence passed between us before a mumbled “Christ” slipped from his lips. Instead of loosening his hold on me, his fingers contracted slightly, bringing us impossibly closer together. “Where did shy, sweet Charlie go?”
“You’d be surprised what I can say when I think it long enough.” It also helped tremendously that we were mostly hidden in the darkness.
He huffed. “Clearly.” But there was something in his voice that caught me off guard. Instead of the sneer I had come to expect from him, it sounded like a mixture of amusement and pride.
And I didn’t know what to make of it or him or the fact that he was still holding me and my heart was beating loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.
“I’m ready for you to let me g—”
“Your face on Monday,” he said softly, his voice gruff. “I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me.”
“I already asked you to stop.” I pressed harder against his muscled chest, but my strength suddenly gave out at his next words.
“Just tell me if you’re okay with what happened to Ben.”
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Tell me if you’re okay. With what he did to you, with his death . . . all of it.”
“Why . . .” I stared at my hands and blinked slowly as I replayed his words, then lifted my head until I was looking into Deacon’s eyes. Mine narrowed in suspicion. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I’ve known you most of your life, Charlie, and—”
“We live in Thatch. Everyone has known everyone for most of their life.”
“You know it’s different with us. But I always saw you as shy, sweet Charlie, who hid behind her brother and Grey so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. When I found out about you and Ben, and the way everything was handled after, I thought you were selfish and immature. It looked like you didn’t care, and let Jagger always take care of your problems. That look on your face this week—like you agreed with me—has fucking haunted me because I know I had it all wrong.”
“So because I agreed with you, suddenly you want to apologize and check on me?” I said with a disbelieving laugh.
Judging from his expression, he knew it didn’t make sense, either. “Charlie, I just want to know if you’re okay.”
My head shook subtly, but instead of responding, I asked, “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you and this isn’t us. We aren’t friends, Deacon. So why don’t you go back to being your unapologetic, arrogant self, and I’ll go back to not speaking to you, now that I’ve gotten out everything I’ve been thinking all week.”
Deacon’s brow pinched in frustration and hurt, but just as he opened his mouth to respond, a deep voice came from a few feet away.
“Everything okay out here?”
I whipped my head to the side, and stumbled back a step when Deacon suddenly released me.
A freezing feeling shot through my veins as I stared into my brother’s narrowed eyes, and my stomach rolled as if he’d just caught me doing something I wasn’t supposed to.
Deacon cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “Jagger.”
Jagger didn’t look at him. He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head as he asked me, “Again, is everything okay?”
“We were just talking,” I said quickly, and bit back a groan when Grey stepped up behind Jagger.
“Uh, so . . . hey, everyone,” she said slowly, and looked quickly among the three of us. “Charlie, my parents are going to take Aly home. Do you want them to take Keith too, so you can—”
“No, no, I’ll get him. It’s late, I was about to leave.”
“Looked like it,” my brother mumbled.
“Jagger . . .” I released a sigh and glanced over at Deacon, but his eyes were on the grass. Without saying a word to any of them, I started walking in the direction of the tent.
I hadn’t taken more than three steps before Deacon called out, “Char—”
“Good night, Deacon,” Jagger said roughly, and turned to follow me when I passed him.
Despite Jagger’s constant questions about what Deacon and I had been doing, and Grey’s questions about what she had walked in on, I remained silent as I collected my son and walked to my car.
“Deacon isn’t the kind of guy you should—”
I shut the back door of my car once I had Keith in his booster seat, and whirled on Jagger. “We were talking, Jagger. Literally talking. Nothing more. But even if for some insane reason there had been more, you cannot do what you just did.”
Jagger shot his arm out behind him. “Do you know how close you two were? Do you know what it looked like I interrupted? And with Deacon, of all guys!”
“I don’t care!” I cried out. “He was holding me because he was trying to keep me there so I wouldn’t keep walking away from him while he apologized for what he’d said last week.”
That stopped Jagger from whatever he’d been about to say. His head jerked back as he took in my words, and Grey’s eyes widened as she looked from Jagger to me. It was clear in her look that she hadn’t told Jagger that there had been tension between Deacon and me. Not that I’d thought she had. Jagger would have brought it up to me as soon as Grey mentioned it.
“Apologize?” Jagger asked softly, darkly. “For what?”
“It doesn’t matter; and you’re still doing it. Jagger, you are my brother. Just be my brother! I appreciate what you did for me growing up more than you will ever know, but I am an adult now. You don’t need to keep parenting me. You don’t need to force your way into a situation and act like my father when you don’t even know what the situation is. Do you know that people think I hide behind you? Do you know that people think I pawned Keith off on you because you forced me to go away to college alone? All I wanted was to be with my son, but because you think you know what’s best for me, I missed out on so many months with him!” I nearly yelled. “Jagger, I love you, but just stop!”
I rounded my car, ignoring Jagger’s protests, and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Are we mad at Uncle J, Mommy?” Keith asked softly from the backseat once I was pulling out of the parking spot.
I sagged against the steering wheel and put the car in drive, but just sat there with my foot on the brake for a few seconds. He’d still been asleep when I’d put him in the car. I hated that he’d heard us yelling. “No, buddy. No, we’re not,” I finally said.
“Then why we yelling at Uncle J?”
“Sometimes . . .” I trailed off, and tried to think of what to tell him. “Sometimes grown-ups don’t listen to each other very well. And sometimes when that happens, we raise our voices to get another grown-up to finally hear us, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing. It wasn’t nice of me to do that to Uncle J. I’m sorry you heard that.”
Keith was silent for so long that I’d thought he’d fallen back asleep, but he suddenly said, “So Uncle J hears you now?”
I nodded. “Maybe.”
“Okay then, Mommy. Then it’s okay.”
I smiled though he couldn’t see me, and whispered, “Thanks, buddy.”
ONCE WE GOT home, I got Keith in his pajamas and in bed, then changed into something comfortable. I’d just finished taking off my makeup when I heard Grey and Jagger get home.
I checked my phone again, and tried to hide the disappointment that there was still nothing from the stranger, then walked out into the main room to talk to Jagger.
I knew he would be waiting for me, and I found him sitting on the couch, forearms resting on his knees and head dropped.
Long seconds passed in silence after I sat down next to him before he looked up at me. His expression was withdrawn and full of worry, but a small smirk tugged at his mouth when I sent him a shaky smile.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His head was already shaking before I finished getting the second word out. “Don’t be. Apparently I still think you need me for everything. I think I’ve chosen to forget that you were raising Keith and dealing with Mom on your own while I was away at college. In my head, you still need me. I know that you can make all of your own decisions, Charlie, but I feel like I still need to make them for you. You know?”
“I want your opinion,” I said quickly. “I want your opinion, but I just want my brother. I don’t like when you say things and that’s the final decision for my life. Part of the agreement was that I needed to find my own place, but the times I’ve even mentioned that I’ve looked at places, you still say that it would just be easier to stay here in a way that hints that you don’t want us leaving. Yes, it would be easier, but I need a place with Keith, and you and Grey and Aly need this place to yourselves.”
Jagger nodded slowly. “I know.” He sighed slowly, and said, “I know. Grey and I were talking on the way home about what you said. I don’t think I realize all that I’ve been doing all these years, and I swear to God I’ll step back.” He made a face, and the corners of his mouth pulled up in another grin. “Try to. But there’s one thing I need to know. Do you resent me for making you go to college?” When I took too long to answer, he laughed sadly. “Got it.”
“No, I don’t. Really, Jag, I don’t. I was trying to think of how exactly I felt.” I looked away as I tried to gather my thoughts, and when I spoke again, my words started off slow and unsure. “I was upset, yes, but I knew why you did it. I knew that going away was something I had wanted growing up, and I think you were just trying to make sure I still had that. My wants changed after Keith was born though, and I don’t think you could fully understand that until Aly was here. But honestly, I’m not mad that you forced me to go, I’m mostly mad that I allowed you to. Like I said, some people think I pawned Keith off on you, and that’s how I feel too. It felt like as soon as he got to be mine, I abandoned him. I feel like I’m no better than Mom.”
“You’re nothing like her,” he argued gently.
I chewed on my bottom lip as dozens of responses and insecurities came to mind, but didn’t voice any of them.
Jagger exhaled heavily as he stood, and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. When he straightened, he asked hesitantly, “Can I ask about one more thing?”
I looked up and lifted an eyebrow in silent response.
“Deacon.”
My face fell. “What about him?”
“What’s going on between you two?”
“I don’t—” I started to tell him it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss before I realized that Jagger’s tone was different from Grey’s earlier that week. “Um. Wait, how do you mean . . .”
“I’m not gonna be able to sleep if I think there’s something going on between you and Deacon fucking Carver. I get that you want me to back off, Charlie, and Deacon’s a great guy . . . but not in that way. Never in that way, and especially not for you. I know Grey would say the same.”
I forced a laugh and tried to ignore the way my stomach swirled with heat. Jagger’s worries were unnecessary because Deacon would never look at me like that, and I hated that I felt anything for him at all. “It’s not—there’s nothing—no, you have it wrong. Deacon and I fought earlier this week. He was trying to apologize tonight. That’s all.”
“Apologize.” Jagger’s tone was full of disbelief. “Do you have any clue how close the two of you were tonight?”
Yes. I knew exactly how close. I could still feel Deacon’s body pressed against mine, the way his fingers curled against me . . .
Irrational, betraying heart.
“I didn’t want to talk to him. I’d already walked away from him. He was trying to keep me there so I would listen to him.”
Jagger’s eyes narrowed. “Are you gonna tell me what he was trying to apologize for?”
“No.”
He nodded, as if he’d expected the answer. “All right. And you swear there isn’t something else going on between the two of you?”
“Jagger, I have only ever been with Ben. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I have a son. Do you really think the next guy I’d choose would end up being one of the two remaining town man-whores?”
Jagger shrugged. “You surprised me before.”
I deserved that. “There’s nothing there, but whenever—if ever—I find someone to be with, trust me to make the right decision for me and Keith. Okay?”
After a short hesitation, he nodded, and then turned to walk toward the loft where his and Grey’s room was.
I pulled myself off the couch and headed toward the bedroom, ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the few hours I had before I needed to wake up for my shift. I checked on Keith, and smiled at the way he was sleeping, completely sprawled out with all of the covers pushed all the way down.
As I was pulling the comforter back over him, my phone vibrated on my nightstand, and my heart skipped a beat.
I stared at it until the screen went black again, then slowly straightened and walked around the room to retrieve it. With shaky hands, I picked up my phone and held my breath as I prepared to check the lock screen.
The air ripped from my lungs and my heart took off when I read the message that waited for me.
Stranger: And here I’d thought you’d taken your words away from me . . .