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Mike didn’t sleep for long. By seven, he was awake again, even though he usually had no trouble sleeping in on weekends.
When he sat up, Charlotte stirred, but she didn’t wake up.
The morning light poured in through the vertical blinds, illuminating her face, and she looked so lovely that his breath caught in his throat.
He wanted to wake up with her every morning.
He loved her.
Not the way he’d loved her as a thirteen-year-old boy who’d barely begun his growth spurt, but as an adult, who knew so much more of the world. He’d met many other women, and even if he hadn’t dated much, he knew she was the one he wanted.
The selfless thing would be to let her find someone better. Someone who knew about love, who hadn’t grown up without it, then avoided it.
But the thought of walking away from her caused everything inside him to ache.
He put on some clothes and headed downstairs, needing to get out of the room.
“Ah, Mike! Good morning,” Bonnie said.
“Good morning. Bonnie.”
“Would you like coffee?” She gestured to the coffeepot.
Mike couldn’t help smiling. Coffee, such an everyday thing, made him think of Charlotte now. When they were children, he hadn’t known she’d grow up to be a coffee addict.
His throat suddenly felt dry and scratchy.
“Yes, coffee would be great,” he said.
She poured him a mug and took out the milk and sugar; he added some to his cup.
“How’s Angela doing?” she asked.
It was interesting that the first person she asked about was Angela. Had Charlotte told her that he didn’t talk to his parents?
Well, he was glad he didn’t need to have that conversation.
“She lives in Ottawa,” he said. “She has a daughter named Bailey.”
Bonnie smiled. “How old is Bailey? Is she in school yet?”
“She’s ten, actually.”
“So big! You and Charlotte will need to hurry up if you want children. Maybe you don’t.” She frowned. “I know she doesn’t need to be a mother, but I will not lie, I will make a wonderful grandmother.”
He chuckled. “One day, maybe. We’ll see.”
“What does Bailey like? What are her favorite subjects in school?”
“She, uh, likes poisonous frogs and mushrooms. She draws pictures of them.”
“Like Charlotte, she is a weird kid.” This was said with affection. “Perhaps she will be a biologist.”
He chuckled again, at how Bonnie turned everything into a potential career.
Mike didn’t mind talking to her, but he was still a bit on edge.
I love Charlotte.
He downed the rest of his coffee and stood up. “I’m going for a walk. Nice to get some fresh air in the morning, you know? Tell Charlotte where I am if she wakes up.”
“Of course, of course.” Bonnie paused. “Charlotte is very independent, and she can look after herself in her own strange way. She doesn’t like to take nonsense from people, but she did this with her ex. You will be different, yes? I know you’re a good boy, but I’m watching you.” She pointed at him in the least threatening way possible.
When Mike got outside, he stood on the sidewalk in front of his old house, and all sorts of terrible memories came back to him. Like the time his parents had locked him outside, in freezing cold weather because his grades weren’t good enough...
He started running, as though if he ran fast enough, it would all go away.
This town wasn’t his home anymore, but he still knew the streets. He ran past the elementary school. The grocery store—a different name now, but it looked the same otherwise. The pharmacy. The convenience store that still had the same “Convenience & Video” sign, though it probably hadn’t rented videos in years.
He stopped when he got to the park at the edge of town. It had been his favorite place because there was a weeping willow, and when he was behind the long branches that nearly touched the ground, he could pretend it was a secret hiding place where no one could see him.
He looked at his phone, glad to see he had a signal, and called Mason.
“Hey Mike, what’s up?” Mason’s voice was laced with concern.
Yeah, eight in the morning on a Sunday was a weird time for a phone call.
“You know how I was going to see Charlotte’s family this weekend?” Mike said.
“Did the whole meet-the-parents thing not go well?”
“The parents are fine, but being back in Ashton Corners, seeing the house where we lived...I’m freaking out. And I realized I love her, and God, I’m going to fuck this up, aren’t I? I don’t want to fuck it up, though. That’s why I’m calling you.”
As soon as Mike said all that, he regretted it. He and Mason didn’t talk about this stuff.
But before he could tell Mason to forget it, his friend started speaking.
“If you have a long relationship with anyone,” Mason said, “you’re bound to fuck up a little. That’s okay, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love. You’ll make things right. I’ve known you for many years, and I have no doubt you’re good at romantic relationships, even if you don’t have much experience. If I thought you were the kind of guy my sister would like, I would have set you up.”
“Why wouldn’t your sister like me?” Mike couldn’t help bracing himself.
“Because you’re not Goth enough.”
Mike laughed. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“We’re all a bit of a mess,” Mason said, “and yes, I know what you have to deal with is different from what I do. But instead of setting fire to everything, you’re doing the sensible, mature thing and calling me at eight-o-fucking-clock on a Sunday morning instead.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Maybe I’m not ready for a relationship. I knew I wasn’t before, but I thought—”
“I think you are, but it’s complicated with this woman because she’s part of your past, and you have to confront it in different ways than before. So, I think it’s just a blip.”
Mike ran a hand through his hair. “Right. Thanks, man.”
“And what about her? She’s good to you?”
“Yeah.”
Mike had lacked examples of healthy relationships early in his life, but unlike his parents, Charlotte never seemed disappointed in who he was as a person, never yelled at him for being a failure. She appreciated him, but at the same time, she didn’t consider him responsible for all her emotions. It seemed healthy to him.
He talked to Mason for a few more minutes, and then he called his sister.
“Hey,” Angela said. “I’m making pancakes for breakfast. You jealous?”
Yep, that made his stomach rumble. “So jealous.”
“Aren’t you with Charlotte in Ashton Corners this weekend?” Angela made smooching noises, and in the distance, Mike thought he heard Bailey say, Mom, please don’t.
“Yes. I love her, but—”
“I know where this is going. Mom and Dad? They were wrong about us. Don’t let them win. They don’t deserve it. Four years ago, I let them win. I went on several dates with a great guy, and then I blew it all up.”
“You never told me—”
“I don’t tell you everything, of course. And that’s all I’m saying about it. Just don’t be a fucking idiot.”
“You gonna put money in the swear jar now?”
“Shut up.”
“Thank you for always being a pain in my ass.”
“Swear jar, Uncle Mike.”
He put down his phone and settled against the trunk of the tree. Twenty years had passed since he was last here, but this tree had barely changed.
He’d changed, though.
* * *
There was nobody else in her bed.
Charlotte sat up and looked around the room. She often liked being alone, but Mike was supposed to be with her. She’d wanted to wake up with him.
She threw on some clothes and went downstairs, the smell of coffee beckoning. Mike was probably down here, charming her mother over breakfast.
But there was no one in the kitchen, just half a pot of coffee.
She found her mother in the living room.
“Where’s Mike?” Charlotte demanded.
“Wah, why are you sounding so accusing?” Mom asked. “It’s not like I hit him over the head with a shovel and tied him to a chair in the garage.”
“What sort of shows have you been watching lately?”
“Just the ones you like.”
“Where is he?”
“Why are you so worried? He said he wanted some fresh air, so he went for a walk. Maybe an hour ago?”
An hour. That was a pretty long walk.
And yes, she was worried, because she knew this weekend had been tough for him. God, she never should have told him about her parents’ invitation.
Sure, he’d been cheerful with her parents and they’d had fun on the beach. Because that was the kind of guy Mike was.
But there were other things, which he didn’t talk about as much. He had with her, but she doubted that was common for him.
She hurried to the front hall and shoved her feet into her shoes.
“Where are you going?” Mom asked. “He’ll be back soon.”
“I need to find him.”
“Don’t you want your coffee?”
But Charlotte was already closing the door.