Forging a Desire Line

by Mary P. Burns

  “Or do you want to punt to next weekend?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and nodded. She didn’t know if Neely instinctively understood she needed time, or if she just thought she was tired, but either way, Charley wanted the time to herself again.

  Once she was back in her apartment, she sat down at the computer to begin working on the new edits, stopping only long enough to get a bottle of seltzer and a pint of raspberries from the refrigerator. Bob picked his way over the keyboard when he saw her coming back, attempting to insert himself front and center, but she put him on the floor and popped some of the fruit into the seltzer bottle. Charley loved the way the berries bubbled and exploded when she flattened them with her tongue after they’d been sitting in the effervescence for a while. It was a sweet release. The first two berries rolled up the neck of the bottle, and Charley closed her eyes, the eruption filling her mouth, dripping down her chin and fizzing up her nose.

  And suddenly she was under the covers, way down under the covers with Joanna. She froze, a tangy raspberry crushed on her tongue. Why is it with her and not Neely? She sat back, confused by her own mental confluence. How had this woman she didn’t even know yet become the face of her sensual meanderings? Swallowing slowly, Charley eased the berries down her throat. She wiped her chin and reluctantly scrolled to the beginning of the next chapter.

  * * *

  On the way to work Wednesday morning, Charley texted Emily. Good luck. Knock him dead.

  A moment later, she had a short Thx in reply.

  Midmorning, Emily came down the hall with a small bag in her hand and set it on Charley’s desk before continuing into her office and tossing her briefcase on the couch. Her coat and suit jacket followed.

  Charley, right behind her, held up the bag. “La Maison du Chocolate? That can be good or bad.”

  Emily opened her arms wide. “I’m presenting to their board next week.”

  “That’s huge.”

  “Well, I’m not out of the woods yet.”

  Charley hung Emily’s coat and jacket on the back of her office door. “You’re not selling this as the ‘merger’ Hans wants, are you?” She used air quotes, wanting to make sure Emily knew what she meant.

  In the long moment of silence that hung there, Charley thought she might’ve made a mistake. Until Emily folded her hands, prayer-like, under her chin. “You understood my presentation, then…I didn’t come here to be part of the dissolution of this company. I was brought in to save it. Hans has been a less than stellar captain of industry. We’re actually in financial trouble here.” She put her finger to her lips, and Charley understood. “And he can tuck his balls away if he wants to and arrange to palm us off on our competition right under the board’s nose for a big payoff to his wallet, but…” Emily inhaled and let her breath out very slowly. “And I know I’m playing a risky game of chicken here, but if I win, which I’m pretty sure I will, the board will know what he’s been up to, and what I had to do to stop him.”

  Oh my God…I was right. We were being offered up to the competition. “And the company will be yours?”

  “Or the board could dismiss me for fiduciary negligence. Either way, before this all pans out, I’m taking you to dinner at the most expensive place you can think of because without your help, I couldn’t have pulled this off so far. I have a feeling whether I succeed or not, Hans will try to fire me for insubordination and bury it before the board finds out, so we might as well make hay while the sun shines.”

  “Expensive I like.” Charley grinned, although she was unsettled by Emily’s forecast.

  There was a cool edge to the evening air when Charley left the office for the Y Wednesday night. Zipping her fleece, she sighed. Winter was reaching for the calendar with tentative fingers.

  Trying not to, she hoped to see Joanna’s blue Yale lock on her usual locker. There hadn’t really been a moment during the day to think about what she’d say to her, but now her mind went back to her walk on Long Beach on Sunday, and the realization that she just had to let go in certain cases, not something she did easily. Or at all. She made her way to the back bay of lockers and found Joanna sitting on the bench in her suit, her towel next to her, her eyes on the floor. Charley stood looking at her for a moment, still caught by her striking beauty. Then Joanna glanced up, saw Charley, and a mix of relief and anguish raced across her face, along with something Charley couldn’t identify but that was followed by a blush.

  “There you are. I’m so sorry!” Joanna stood up.

  “Are you okay?” It was all she could think of to say in this moment. And she really did want to know if everything was all right.

  Joanna’s hands twitched awkwardly at her sides. Charley could tell she wanted to do something with them. “Irene lapsed into heart failure Sunday night and I had to rush her to the hospital. I stayed with her until she was stabilized yesterday morning. And then I realized I left you hanging Monday, but I had no way to contact you.”

  Charley closed her eyes. She’d foolishly made it all about her, barely considering that something could’ve gone wrong in Joanna’s life. And of course, they didn’t have each other’s phone numbers. “Is she all right? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, they stabilized her. They’re keeping her until Friday.”

  “And you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just felt so bad. Do you know how many C, or Charley or anything resembling a Charley Owens there are in the online white pages? I even called information. I didn’t think they existed anymore, but you can still call four-one-one. And the operator can still tell you that without an address or a proper name, she can’t help you.”

  “You didn’t have to—”

  “I even went back to Irene’s apartment when I left the hospital to see if she had your mother’s phone number in her address book, and she had two of them, both crossed out, so I called the last one just in case and woke up some poor woman at eight fifteen in the morning. Not your mother, by the way.”

  Charley smiled at the thought of the poor woman being woken up, and at the persistence with which Joanna had tried to find her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you through such a wringer. I don’t know why we didn’t exchange numbers.”

  “Because we’re idiots.”

  Charley got out her phone and handed it to Joanna, the back of it facing her. Joanna looked down at it and saw the tiny label with Charley’s phone number on it. She laughed.

  “You have your phone number on the back of your phone?”

  “Yes, because I’m an idiot.”

  A look of surprise flashed across Joanna’s face.

  “When the ambulance crew who came for my mother last winter asked for my cell phone number, I went blank. I knew that could never happen again, so…” Charley shrugged.

  Joanna shook her head sympathetically. “Been there, done that. Hold on.” She tucked the phone under her arm and opened her locker, pulled her own phone out of her pants pocket, and sat down to add Charley to her contacts.

  “You know, we could’ve done this when we actually do get together for that coffee,” Charley suggested.

  “Oh, no, because if one of us nearly drowns in the pool tonight and gets hauled out by ambulance, we’ll still have no way of getting in touch with each other. Not hazarding that again.”

  Charley snorted. “I have no intention of drowning in the shallow end of the pool tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, Irene didn’t have any intention of almost meeting her maker Sunday night, either.”

  Charley sobered up quickly. “Touché.”

  “I can get that coffee tonight if you still want to,” Joanna said, glancing up at Charley. “Obviously, I’m not on duty.”

  “I’d love to,” Charley said.

  * * *

  “You’ve had a tough week.” The waiter set cups of coffee down in front of them, and Charley thanked him. “Maybe we should’ve gone out for a drink.”

  “Oh, I’m too tired for that. I’d fa
ll flat on my face if I had a drink right now.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve done this next week. I should’ve realized.”

  “No, I proposed it. I wouldn’t have done if I was that tired. Besides,” Joanna said, studying Charley, “I really did feel bad. I never leave people hanging like that. You have to understand that about me.”

  The earnestness reflected on Joanna’s face touched Charley. “You’re as dependable as the sun coming up, aren’t you?”

  “Well…I have to be. I’m responsible for someone’s life.”

  Charley smiled. “I’ll bet you were like this long before you became a nurse.” Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. She took in the light freckles sprinkled across Joanna’s nose and cheeks and knew they were echoed on her neck, shoulders, and chest. She loved the crinkled lines at the corners of her eyes, the fading summer tan.

  “Okay, yes. I come from a military background, so I learned growing up that when the watch bells chimed, you’d better be where you were supposed to be because someone’s life just might depend on it.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot for a kid, isn’t it?”

  “It was good training, a solid foundation for whatever I was going to do in life. And that reminds me.” Joanna pointed her spoon at Charley. “You know, I have no idea what you do for a living. You come in with your suit already on under your clothes, and half the time you’re in shorts. Didn’t anyone tell you summer is over? Are you some kind of tech guru who makes her own hours?”

  Charley laughed. “Very much the opposite.” She told Joanna about her nine-to-five life, which, she pointed out, meant “nine to five” wherever Emily happened to be in her international travels.

  Joanna sat back. “So, you’re as dependable as the sun coming up, too, aren’t you?”

  Charley had never thought of it that way. “I’m what’s called a gatekeeper. So I have to be right with her at every step.”

  “Well, I’ll bet you were like this long before you went to work for her.” Joanna stifled a yawn.

  “Okay, that’s it,” Charley said. “You need to get home and get some rest.”

  “I know, but I’m having a good time,” she protested.

  “You say that like you didn’t expect to.”

  “I’m not sure what I expected.”

  “On this ‘not a date.’”

  Joanna chuckled.

  The waiter had dropped the tab on the table. Charley picked it up, a ten-dollar bill already in her hand and waved him back over.

  “Hey, come on, let me put in for my coffee.”

  “It’s the least I can do considering what you’ve just been through,” Charley said.

  Out on the sidewalk, Charley put on her coat. “Do you have far to walk?” she asked, hoping Joanna didn’t notice the fishing expedition.

  “I’m right down the street, Ninth Avenue. But it’s a nice walk most nights. You?”

  “I’m around the corner at First Avenue. And Ninth is not right down the street.”

  “Takes me less than half an hour. Unless it rains, it gives me time to unwind.”

  They looked at each other for a moment. The soft light from the streetlamp spilled around Joanna, and Charley was again taken by her arresting handsomeness, almost forgetting that she needed to say good night.

  “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you…next week, I guess?” Joanna asked.

  “Yes. Monday night. Get some rest. And maybe text me, let me know how Irene is doing? And how you’re doing?”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Joanna turned and disappeared down the street, and Charley watched her go until she couldn’t see her anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  The end of the week was quiet enough in the office, with Emily spending hours preparing for her presentation to their competitor’s board next week and giving Charley time to catch up on the kind of housekeeping she hated: filing, archiving, purging paperwork and e-files, and ordering supplies. It was the dreary but necessary cog-turning that could gum up the works if not done on a somewhat timely basis.

  Friday night, she thought about plugging in the flash drive Neely had given her last weekend and beginning to read her novel, but she didn’t have the concentration level she wanted to give it. Instead, she crawled into bed to watch the end of a college football game and the news. It felt good to do something so mundane. She read for a while afterward, and just as she was about to turn off the light, the buoy tone sounded on her phone. She picked it up expecting to see a snarky message from Brooke.

  Joanna: Patient home and doing well. Nurse not so bad, either.

  Charley smiled. Terrific!

  Joanna: Just realized you might’ve been asleep. Sorry!

  Charley sent back a wide-eyed, wide-awake emoji, and Joanna sent back one of a devilish nurse with a squirting needle in her hand.

  Joanna: I can give you something to take care of that.

  I’m good, thanks! Special relationship with the Sandman.

  Joanna: Really? We’ll have to talk about that. I had a good time Weds. Drinks Mon.?

  Charley’s stomach fluttered. Yes.

  Joanna: Good. Go find your Sandman.

  Charley pulled up the covers, savoring the unexpected moment. Then, not setting the alarm, she turned off the light.

  When the phone rang, levitating her out of bed, she didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. It took her a moment to focus on the hands of the clock on her nightstand. Six a.m. A call at this hour was never good. She thought it would be her mother, but then she saw the number. Dammit. “Hello.”

  “Charley, I’m so sorry to call you at this hour, but it was the only way I knew to get you to answer.”

  Short and determined, that was Brooke’s advice. “I’ve answered, Tricia. What is it?”

  “I…I need your help. During my physical three weeks ago, my doctor discovered something she didn’t like and sent me for tests.”

  “Okay,” Charley said as evenly as she could, although a wisp of fear snaked through her.

  “Still unflappable, aren’t you?”

  Charley didn’t respond.

  “I always knew whatever was wrong would be all right when I heard you say ‘okay’ like that, that the news wouldn’t bowl you over, that you’d handle it with me…”

  “What happened with the tests, Tricia?” She kept her voice determinedly cool even as apprehension stole over her and long fingers of fear closed on her throat.

  In the moment of silence between them, Charley heard Tricia struggling with her words. “They found stage four lung cancer, Charley. And I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  The air went right out of her, her pulse pounded, and her head buzzed. When the effects subsided a moment later, she tried to control the tears she felt welling up before she could say anything. She grabbed a tissue and sat up in the bed.

  “Where is Reagan?”

  “She left me. A year ago.”

  The confession exploded in Charley’s head like cheap fireworks.

  “Go ahead. You can laugh, say I told you so. You were right. I threw away twenty-five years for a couple of quick fucks. I’m surprised she stayed the two years. Probably only because I gave her everything she asked for, like a fool, until I didn’t.”

  Under different circumstances, Charley would have laughed. She wondered what “everything” meant, even as she supposed Tricia had left herself open to it. “I’m sorry it turned out the way it did.”

  “You don’t need to be kind, Charley, I’m not a charity case. I hurt you very badly. I’m sure you never want to see me again, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you, Trish.” It was the first time she’d admitted to herself that she probably still loved Tricia on some level, and it hit her, in this moment, that that was what was behind the anger that she’d held on to for so long. Tricia had been her world. She had, indeed, grown up with her. But that was then. And now? Brook
e had been right. The baggage was holding her back. Although it seemed she’d put at least one piece down after meeting Joanna, and another right after her first date with Neely. And kicked the rest to the curb when Neely had nearly made love to her under the bleachers. “I’m still angry, but I certainly don’t hate you.”

  She could hear Tricia exhale in relief. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. I wanted to know I could turn to you, and you wouldn’t shut me out.”

  Charley sighed. “Tell me what you know. And what you need me to do.”

  Tricia walked her through the diagnosis, the follow-ups with her doctor, the team that had been assembled at Memorial Sloan Kettering, and the plan of attack they had laid out for her, so Charley took notes, trying not to be frightened by what she was hearing.

  “Can you come with me on Wednesday to meet my medical team?”

  “What time is the appointment?”

  “Eight fifteen. I figured it was early enough that you could still get to the office on time.”

  Charley was already formulating how she would handle this with Emily.

  “I know I’m asking a lot of you…”

  “Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t think we can. It’s a big picture kind of thing. It’s already engulfing me. And I know I’m going to suck you right in with me. I’m trying to apologize now for what I know isn’t going to be easy.”