by C W Lamb
That all came crashing down with one spoken name.
----*----
The lunch progressed pleasantly until about the third glass of wine, when Robert accidently touched on the wrong subject.
“Do you think Charlotte would be happy with what I did with the house?” Robert asked innocently, thinking of the party just days away.
He had yet to broach the subject with Charlie, unsure of her response to his idea regarding her participation.
“How would I know?” Charlie snapped suddenly.
“I was just thinking that, as a Foxworth relative, you might have a more relevant opinion than someone from outside the family,” Robert began to explain.
“The only thing being a Foxworth has given me is a little bit of money and a lot of aggravation. I’ve heard stories of the family fortune, squandered away over the years. My father said my Great Aunt Rebeca all but wiped out my inheritance before she drowned herself due to the shame,” Charlie snapped back at him before draining her glass.
“Is that what you were told?” Robert asked, shocked at the insinuation.
“Dad said Grandfather had to pay off her bills after she died, leaving us nothing but the business. Why would I want to work in the family business when I coulda been rich!” she blurted.
“Charlie, your Aunt drowned off the pier in our backyard. It wasn’t suicide, it was an accident,” he explained patiently.
“That’s your version,” she responded, waving at the waitress with one hand while holding up her empty glass with the other.
Robert was quick to kill the order and signaled for the check, a changeup that Charlie took exception to.
“I’m not finished,” she declared defiantly.
“Oh, I think you are,” he replied, returning his credit card to his wallet after signing the receipt.
Standing, he moved over to her side of the table while offering a hand of assistance. Ignoring the gesture, she made one more attempt at draining an already empty glass before standing and heading to the door without him. Robert was quick to follow, reaching the door just before her and opening it in a polite gesture.
Exiting the restaurant, the pair had barely made their way into the parking lot before Robert heard Charlie bellow across the open space.
“Hey, look at those assholes!” she cried as she pointed to three young men exiting the sports bar right next to where they had been eating.
“SHHH!” Robert responded, attempting to intercede before it was too late.
Unfortunately, they had already heard the initial outburst. At that point it might have just been passed over, even assuming the three, about college age in Robert’s estimation, had been drinking as well. However, Charlie followed up with a string of insults pertaining to the local sports team emblazoned on their shirts.
“Hey man, what’s your problem,” one of the three said as they changed direction and closed in.
Quickly assessing the situation, Robert was able to come to several quick conclusions. The first was that these three had been drinking, likely as much or more than Charlie. The second was that although they were definitely the injured party in the exchange, he couldn’t permit Charlie to take the consequences of her actions. Finally, he determined that there was no way he was going to be able to talk his way out of this while she continued to berate the three.
“Stop it!” he snapped at Charlie while grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him.
The move was not only intended to disrupt her behavior, it also placed her behind him as he received a solid shove from behind from the first of the three men to close the distance.
“Take it easy, she’s drunk and so are you,” Robert replied while turning and extending his arm out to keep the man at a distance.
Robert quickly scanned the three and gave a deep sigh. Besides the combat training he received in the Army, he had been in his own share of bar fights. All that experience told him that these three were not going to back off easily. The combination of youth and alcohol, incited by Charlie’s verbal attack, had the three of them all fired up. Robert’s problem now was how to finish this quickly without actually injuring any of the three.
“Just walk away, man, it’s not worth it,” Robert stated as he stared them down. Taller and with a heavier build than any of the three, he hoped he could intimidate them without actually coming to blows.
He could see the three debating the standoff, their faces a clear indication of indecision.
“Yeah pussies, beat it!” came the comment from behind him. At that point, Robert knew he was screwed.
The young men before him seemed to re-inflate with the statement, and the one in the center, the one who had shoved him, made his move. As the expected sucker punch appeared from his left, Robert slipped back slightly, shifting his weight to his back foot, avoiding the fist but feeling the air disturbance in its passing. In almost the same motion, he leaned forward, back into the man, driving his right fist into the solar plexus of the first attacker. The blow knocked the wind out right of the man.
As the first man dropped to his knees, wheezing, Robert spun on his front foot, turning back to his right, crouching and whipping his back leg around. That action caught the second man from behind, driving the flying limb into the backs of his knees as he had started to move forward.
The action completely lifted the man’s legs out from under him, dropping him flat on his back, his head smacking hard on the asphalt. Finishing the spin, Robert stood straight up, in position to face the last of the three. His move had put him in position to take the full force of the man as he hit Robert with his lunge.
The impact of his body drove Robert backward, as his feet came out from under him, and the two smashed into a nearby parked car. Robert’s right arm was slammed into the small import’s plastic side mirror, shattering both the housing and the glass. He could hear the pieces falling to the ground, leaving several shards protruding from his upper arm.
Blood began to fly in all directions as Robert brought both of his fists down squarely into the man’s back, driving the breath from him. He could feel his assailant relax his hold, gasping for breath while still wrapped around his waist.
“Let him go!” Robert suddenly heard as a flailing Charlie appeared and began her own pounding on the man’s back.
Robert was able to grasp both his attacker’s shoulders as he absorbed several blows to his left side. With one big shove on the man’s shoulders, Robert was able to send him staggering back and both he and Charlie watched as he tripped backward over his fallen friend, dropped earlier with the leg sweep. The tumble sent the last man into the first, leaving all three lying on the ground in various states of disorientation, none moving in his direction.
“You’re hurt,” Charlie cried as she rushed to Robert side, the worried expression on her face displacing her earlier attitude.
Robert helped her lift the short shirt sleeve to his shoulder, exposing the shards of plastic and glass protruding from his skin.
“Let me,” he said sternly, pushing Charlie’s hands away when she started to pull the pieces from his arm.
He saw her face, a mix of concentration and concern, as he first pulled one and then another of the pieces from his skin, making the wound bleed as he did so in an attempt at cleaning the cuts.
“Can I help?” she asked meekly, watching him make each wound bleed.
“There are some napkins in the center console.”
Distracted, he worked to ensure nothing was left behind as he extracted the foreign objects. Hitting the fob in his pocket, he unlocked the truck and watched her scramble to do as he requested. In short order she produced a small stack of paper napkins, most emblazed with fast food chain logos. As he treated himself, he noted his three antagonists had begun to slowly make their way to their own vehicle, licking their own wounds as they did so.
Satisfied he had everything out and the bleeding under control, Robert pulled his T-shirt off over his head, with Charlie doing her
best to assist. He then had her tie it around his upper arm, using the napkins as a makeshift bandage underneath it.
“Get in the truck,” he said sternly, noting that the expression on her face portrayed a mixed look of concern and disbelief.
Opening the door for her, but not waiting for her to get in, he quickly circled around the truck to the driver’s side. As he did so, he paused, checking the progress of his unfortunate victims. He had sympathy for the three limping away.
Grabbing one of his business cards from the console, he went back to the damaged import and placed it under the wiper. He doubted his insurance would cover this and repairs would be out of pocket, but he was not going to leave the damaged vehicle for the owner to deal with. Sliding into his seat, he checked his makeshift bandage once more. As he did so, he could see she was starting to say something to him.
“Not a word!” Robert snapped at the woman sitting next to him.
And so they rode home in total silence, but Robert was surprised to see Charlie constantly checking his arm, not bothering to ask as she occasionally adjusted the binding. Once home, Robert parked in front of the house and quickly ascended the front porch steps, not waiting for Charlie.
Hunter was there at the door to greet him as he entered the house and headed straight up the stairs, not bothering to close the door behind him. The sound of the door closing was quickly followed by footsteps on the stairs; Charlie had apparently decided to follow him. Entering the main bathroom, he began pulling out various items from the drawers and cabinets.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie standing at the door watching him. Not saying a word, she stood quietly watching him first pull several adhesive band aids from the box cutting V-shaped wedges from both sides of the center area of each. A trick he had learned from a Medic, he intended to use them to help keep the cuts closed while they healed.
Next, he removed his blood-soaked shirt, dropping it in the sink; the paper napkins followed as he dropped them in the trashcan nearby. Taking a cotton ball, he carefully wet it with alcohol and gently cleaned the area of blood. The stinging was bad enough to bring tears, but Robert barely flinched before Charlie’s gaze, his mixture of anger and pride holding off the pain.
By now she had stepped inside the bathroom, standing next to him as he worked to clean up. All the punctures had stopped bleeding by now, but he was well aware that any movement could break them open once more. That was where the band aids came in.
Peeling the backing off the first, he started to place it over the first cut, but the action was one best performed with two hands and his actions caused it to open up slightly, blood dripping down his arm once more.
“Here, let me,” Charlie said.
She first cleaned the wound once more, then with two hands, placed the bandage so that it sealed the cut. Continuing the process for the others, she soon had all the bandages in place.
“Wrap it with this,” Robert instructed, handing her a gauze roll while motioning for her to wrap his upper arm with it.
“You probably need stitches.”
“Probably, but I’ve had worse and this works almost as well, so long as I stay out of more fights,” he replied while she worked. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a slight flinch from her at the comment.
----*----
The day the party preparation was to begin, Robert caught Charlie first thing in the morning, in hopes of finding the reasonable version of the woman. His arm still wrapped from the previous day’s activities; he was careful not to do anything that might reopen his wounds. He had debated this decision all night after the parking lot incident and had finally decided to just throw caution to the wind.
“Morning,” he offered as she entered the kitchen.
By now he was aware of her tastes and presented her with a coffee, two creams, and two sugars, just like his.
“Thank you,” she replied meekly without looking him in the eye as she accepted the cup and dropped on a stool.
Looking around, Robert had just accepted that the blue steamboat bowl would be in its place at the center of the island.
“So, we have some things coming up that I think we should discuss,” he started, offering her buttered toast with jam.
He figured it a neutral offering that didn’t appear to be sucking up to her nor ignoring her outright.
“Are you kicking me out?” she asked.
She accepted the toast without looking him in the eye.
“Oh, God no,” he replied, surprised at the question.
“Why not? I’ve been a shit and I know it,” she said as she looked at him for the first time this morning.
“Is that what you do, piss people off until they kick you out? Is that why you caused the scene in the parking lot, hoping to reach my limits?”
“Pretty much,” she replied with a shrug as she started on the toast.
“I am not kicking you out, but I do need a favor, of sorts. I am having a party, day after tomorrow, kind of a housewarming and I need you to stay out of the way while we get things ready.”
“No problem, I will just hide in my room until everyone leaves,” she said flatly.
“Charlie, you’re invited,” Robert responded.
She seemed to stop in mid bite, looking at her toast as she took in the invitation. Finally, she looked up into his eyes. He could see them filling with tears.
“Why?” she asked honestly.
“Because I would like you to come as my date,” he answered just as honestly.
----*----
For the rest of that day and all of the following, Robert was consumed with preparations for the party. Alice appeared with an army of service staff, caterers and other people all focused on preparing the house and grounds for the festivities. During it all, Robert found Charlie hovering at the edge of the craziness, trying to stay out of the way and watching him intently. More than once she and Hunter were spotted together as she had assumed responsibility for the dog’s welfare amongst all the strangers.
He was delighted and a bit surprised that she had chosen to come as his date, and even more so that she hadn’t touched a drop of booze from the cases being delivered. Always nearby, he had asked her for help on several occasions and she happily jumped to the tasks. Between supervising the service staff in the kitchen, and directing the placement of the dance floor, assembled midway from the pool and the house, she was ever ready to lend a helping hand.
By the end of the second day, with the party scheduled for the following evening, Robert was convinced he was seeing an entirely different person. Sober, focused, and a ball of energy, he thanked her several times over the course of the two days for making his life so much easier.
“Robert, I hope you don’t mind, but I had them move the bar down by the pool,” she had said at one point.
“No, I suppose not. Why did you do it?” he asked curiously.
“Well, at first they were going to set it up behind the tables over by the grill, but anyone looking for a drink would have to navigate between the seated guests to get there and back. Then, after I pointed that out, they wanted to set it up on the other side of the grill where the food line would be.”
Robert could see where both placements would have created chaos for anyone just looking for a drink.
“Where did you have them put it, then?”
“I had them set up at the east end of the pool, close to the food, but accessible from either side and out of the way of everything else. Oh, and the band is going where the bar was supposed to be,” she said with a smile.
Robert had to agree that was the best place for the bar and it put the band well out of the traffic areas.
“Next time I’m putting you in charge of the layout!” he said with his own smile.
As the last delivery truck exited the drive on the second day, Robert and Charlie retreated to the outdoor kitchen where he cooked them both dinner, with Hunter ever watchful of everything coming off the grill.
“I can’t thank you enough for all your help,” he started again as they sat down to eat.
“You can stop already, I actually enjoyed it.”
He noted that she was only drinking tea, as was he, and that she hadn’t even suggested cracking open one of the many bottles lining the open bar behind them.
“Did you see your dress for the party?” he asked slowly.
“That was hers wasn’t it?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes. I found it in one of the trunks we discovered in the attic. I had it cleaned, inspected and altered to make it a little easier to wear. The seamstress said it was in excellent condition,” he said hopefully, aware that Charlotte was a sensitive subject.
“But why that dress?” she asked suspiciously.
“Well, I was planning on going as Jefferson, her husband, and I had hoped you would wear the dress that’s in the portrait as my wife,” he replied, purposefully avoiding using Charlotte’s name.
He watched as she took a few more bites and then took a drink of tea, considering his statement. Then he saw the light in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“It will probably freak people out if I looked just like her, wouldn’t it?” she said with a devious smile.
----*----
Clear headed, Charlie considered the proposal as the pair continued to eat. She could tell Robert was struggling to dance around the use of her ancestor’s name for fear of upsetting her. A point in fact, she quelled the initial tinge of anger that flared inside by burying the toes of her bare feet into the fur of the hound at her feet under the table.
Always nearby, she took his unconditional acceptance of her as a calming influence. In many ways the man beside her had demonstrated the same open welcoming attitude as his dog. She could tell that, in her opinion, he held an unhealthy fascination with the woman who had built this house.
She concluded that maybe Charlotte was to him, what Hunter was to her, a safe calming influence that threatened no one. He could retreat into the imaginary persona her family had created, a specter protecting this property and nothing more.