The best connection Charlotte had been able to make was a red-eye that got her into Austin early the next morning. She’d tried to catch some sleep on the second leg of the flight but had only managed a little bit of fitful dozing.
She got to the airport and didn’t want to bother her family, so she caught a cab directly to the hospital. She paid for the cab and got out at the front door of the hospital. She walked over to the information desk, and a very tired worker looked up at her.
“I’m looking for my mother. Isadora Duncan.”
The worker typed in the name. “I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone admitted with that name.”
“Can you check again?”
The worker typed in the info again. “Nope. No one by that name. Are you sure you have the right hospital?”
She tugged out her phone and checked the text messages from Eva. Yes, it was this hospital. This was the hospital her family always went to for any emergency. She frowned. Then a thought hit her… could her mother have… passed away? Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t know how to ask the question.
“If someone comes to the ER and doesn’t make it…”
The kind worker looked up at her. “Um… just a minute.”
She tapped some more on her computer and looked up relieved. “No. You’re good.”
Maybe they’d sent her mother home? They didn’t send someone straight home when they’d had a heart attack, did they?
She looked at the time, debating calling her family or just grabbing a cab to her parents’ house. If they’d been up late with her mother, they were probably exhausted. She decided to grab a cab and headed to her parents’ house.
She paid the driver, thinking of all the bills she was racking up. Last-minute flight. Two cab rides. Well, it couldn’t be helped.
She walked up to the front door and paused. Ring the bell? Knock? She tried knocking first. No answer.
Her dad usually got up early and spent time in his study with his coffee and computer, checking the markets and news. If he wasn’t too tired from last night, maybe she’d find him there.
She went around to the back of the house and saw the light on in his office. She knocked on the outside door to the office and he looked up in surprise. He got up and came to unlock the door.
“Charlotte, what are you doing here?”
“I came when Eva texted me about Mom’s heart attack. I got here as soon as I could, but I had to get a connecting flight and it took all night. I went to the hospital, but they said she wasn’t there.”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. We came home last night. It wasn’t a heart attack. It ended up she was having a panic attack.”
Charlotte let go of the handle of her suitcase and sank into a chair, grateful and confused and angry at the same time. “A panic attack?”
“Yes, they determined quite quickly it wasn’t a heart attack. Didn’t Eva text you and tell you that?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Maybe she thought we’d called you?”
Tears crept into the corner of her eyes, but she slashed them away, determined not to cry in front of her father. “I thought… I thought I caused her to have a heart attack.”
Her father sat down in the chair across from her. “Nonsense. Your mother has been stressed out about a big benefit party she’s throwing for the Ladies League. She isn’t handling the stress of that very well. Eva talked her into going to the emergency room—which was the right thing to do because it could have been a heart attack. Similar symptoms. But thankfully, it wasn’t.”
“Thankfully.” She swiped at one tear that escaped.
“And your mother might have been upset at the to-do at the Montgomerys’, but she’ll get over it. Eva exaggerated that it ruined our vacation. I, for one, had a splendid time seeing the island again and playing golf with my old buddies.”
Charlotte stood. “I’m… I’m glad she’s okay.”
“How about some coffee and breakfast?”
“I think… well, I think I’ll just head back home. I have a solo show coming up at Paul’s gallery and I have a lot of work to do.”
“But you just got here. At least go up and see your mother.”
She let out a sigh. She supposed she should at least pop her head in and see her mom. At least Eva wasn’t here.
“Come on.”
She followed her father to the master suite. Her mother was sitting in bed.
“Look who came to check on you.”
Charlotte followed in her father’s wake.
“I’ll leave you two to chat and I’ll head back to my study.”
“Charlotte, what are you doing here?” Her mother looked up in surprise.
“Charlotte was under the mistaken idea that you’d had a heart attack.” Her father called back over his shoulder as he walked out.
Her mother blushed. “No, that was Eva’s ridiculous idea. She got me all upset thinking I really was having a heart attack. Just a bit of a panic. The doctor gave me something to help with my stress level. You have no idea how stressful it is planning this big gala and benefit for the Ladies League.”
“I bet.” What else did she say to that?
“Anyway, I’m fine. Are you going to stay long?” Her mother frowned. “I don’t have the guest room made up. I could probably call the maid service, but it’s Saturday.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. Now that I know you’re okay, I have to head back.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Her mother shrugged. That dismissive shrug that made Charlotte grit her teeth.
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye.” Her mother looked back down at the magazine she was looking through.
Charlotte backed out of the room and went to find her father.
“I’m going to head out, Dad.”
“You sure? You could stay a few days. Or longer if you want. You could always move back here for a bit and look for work. Get yourself back on your feet.”
“Dad, I live on Belle Island. It’s my home again. I love it there. I’m painting there… and my paintings are selling. Well, I sold one of them. Hopefully more when I have my solo showing.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “If you’re sure. How about if you let me pay for your flight? That had to have cost you a pretty penny to catch a last-minute one.”
As much as she would have loved to say yes, she didn’t. She didn’t want help from him or from anyone. “Thanks, Dad. But I’ve got it covered.”
Just then the door swung open and Eva swept into the room. The thought occurred to her that Eva always swept into a room. Never just… entered it. And it bugged her. It bugged her a lot this morning in her exhausted-no-sleep state.
“I see you came to check on Mom. All the stress you caused her sent her to the hospital.”
“Now, Eva, I think the stress she’s not dealing well with is that big benefit she’s planning.”
“Charlotte and her episode at the Montgomerys’ didn’t help any.”
“Eva… you know what? I’m—” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’m leaving now. And you can try to convince yourself that I’m the cause of all of Mom’s problems. Heck, you can convince yourself I’m probably the cause of your problems. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’m not coming back. Not to listen to you tear me down and tell me everything I’m doing wrong in my life. So you go on with your life. Have fun. I’m going back to Belle Island. To my friends. To my painting. To the life I love.”
“Another tirade? Really?” Eva rolled her eyes. “And you’re going back to paint furniture?”
“I’m going back to my artwork. And if you notice, I’m perfectly calm. Just telling you how things are going to be now.” She turned to her father. “If you or mother would like to visit, you’re welcome.” She paused. “But only if you can accept me just as I am.”
She turned, tugged on her suitcase, and went out the door. She got to the curb and realized she needed to call a cab or Uber or something. She pulled out her phone, eager to get back to the airport, find a flight, and get back to her real life.
And she wanted to get back to Ben. She definitely wanted to get back to Ben and sort out what was going on between them.
Charlotte pulled her suitcase—the one that had never even been opened—into her room back at her bungalow. Exhaustion came in waves. She’d been able to grab a couple hours’ sleep on the flight back, but she was still running on empty. She headed to the kitchen to make some sweet tea.
If she could just stay awake for the day, she’d crash out early tonight and try to get back on schedule. She had a busy couple of weeks getting ready for her solo show. She had two paintings she wanted to finish up, and she was itching to start a brand new one. She wanted to paint the marina at sunset. And she needed to get over there and take some photos of it to work off of. It was just a bonus if Ben were there while she was taking her photos…
“Char? You here?” Robin came into the bungalow.
“In the kitchen.”
Robin walked into her bedroom. “You look beat.”
“I am. Exhausted. Angry. And I spent all that money on a trip where I wasn’t even needed, much less wanted.”
Robin hugged her. “I’m sorry, Char. But you’re back here now where you belong.”
Charlotte hugged her friend and looked around the bungalow. She did feel like she was beginning to belong here. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home.
She turned back to the counter. “Want some of my almost-famous sweet tea?”
“Sure do.” Robin reached for a glass and got ice from the door of the fridge. “Then sit down and tell me all about your trip.”
“It was… interesting. My parents were surprised to see me. Evidently they thought Eva had managed to tell me it was all a false alarm. Then I got to hear about how stressful it is running a gala.”
Robin smothered a grin. “I’m sure it is.”
“I am sorry my mom is stressed, but really? Then she seemed annoyed when she thought that I might stay a few days because she would have to call the maids to come clean and set up the guest room. Sometimes I think I live on a different planet than my family.”
“Yes, you live on our planet. The one that Belle Island is on.”
“You’re right. I like where I am.”
“And your paintings all sold at the show. That’s fabulous news.” Robin motioned toward the counter. “Oh, and Paul already wrote a check for you. It’s over on the counter.”
She jumped up and went to where Robin pointed. She opened the envelope carefully and pulled out the check. “Oh… wow.” She stared at the number in awe.
Robin grinned. “So, it was a profitable evening?”
She whirled around. “I can’t wait to deposit this. And now I don’t have to worry about the rent, and I have enough to pay for all that money I wasted going to Austin.”
“I’m happy for you.” Robin looked smug. “I told you that you should show your work to Paul. You should always listen to me.”
She laughed. “I should. And I usually do. You’re too hard to argue with, anyway.”
“Yep, that’s my claim to fame.” Robin took a long drink of her tea. “Though some people call it bossy.”
She laughed again. “That, too.”