The caseworker, a pretty brunette with glasses, had come around to the passenger seat and told Charlotte not to be scared. She would be staying with her aunt Lucy. Clinging to her stuffed toy, a brown bear with a missing eye and rip in the belly, Charlotte had walked up the sidewalk in her dirty, untied tennis shoes to meet a relative she’d never met before.
Twenty years had passed, but the memories remained.
Asking the driver to wait, she slipped him a twenty, then climbed out from the backseat and made her way up that same long sidewalk and in through the double glass doors that had spider cracks from corner to corner.
The lobby smelled like mildew and musk, a smell that Charlotte didn’t think she’d ever escape. Every time she smelled it, she jetted back to her childhood when she feared her own shadow. She’d been wary of everyone, unsure of who to trust or who to care for. Her patients had taken the place for the things she lacked in her personal life.
Up the stairs, she stepped over old man Hagley who was passed out. She took the empty bottle from his hand, set it aside, then continued up to the fifth floor and to the door at the end of the hall. Two seventeen. The seven had been turned upside down since Charlotte came that first day.
Inside, she looked around the cluttered apartment with a sigh of despair. Her aunt had a hoarding issue, as well a few other flaws. Magazines stacked as high as Charlotte was tall and filled trash bags piled into a mound cluttered the small space. A permanent odor hung in the air that came from many sources. The smoke-saturated curtains hung haphazardly from bent rods. The coffee stained blue and white linoleum floor had more holes than swiss cheese. The faux leather chair had peeled down to the netting. Charlotte smiled at the memory of how she and Lucy had dragged the secondhand chair from the dumpster, up the five flights of stairs and stuck it in their apartment. When Charlotte had complained, Lucy had given her the go-to lecture, “Stop being so selfish. Until you have a job of your own and pay the bills then you’ll come off that hoity-toity attitude and do what’s best. Remember I was the one who took you in when your mom didn’t want you.” As if she needed reminding…
Charlotte would never forget the humiliation on that Christmas morning, the ridicule of the neighbors watching as she and Lucy hauled the chair away as if it was a prized possession. How the kids had laughed at and bullied Charlotte when she returned to school, calling her “Trashy Charlotte”. Months had passed, but felt like years, before they found someone else to pick on.
Even dumpster diving wasn’t as humiliating as being responsible for going down to the corner bar for two a.m. pickups. It never failed that Lucy would drink herself under the bar and the bartender would call for someone to come get her. Charlotte would get scared walking the dark streets in the middle of the night so at fifteen she switched things up and started driving the beat up silver two door that had spongy brakes the few blocks to get her drunk aunt.
If only Charlotte could count the number of men that had come and gone over the years—all the “uncles” she’d met. Those memories had been tattooed into every brain cell as a constant reminder that one day she’d be better. She’d be a better mother when she had kids of her own.
Charlotte could only wonder how horrible her mother was that family court thought living with Lucy would be a healthier environment.
In Lucy’s defense, she’d never been abusive and kept a roof over their heads and meals on the table, at least most of the time.
Movement caught her eye.
She picked up a magazine off the top of a stack and rolled it, smashing the cockroach against the wall. She tossed it into the trash and started to put the magazine back when she gave it a toss too.
Glancing around the clutter, she gave her head a little shake. She wouldn’t miss this place. The day she’d moved out, working two jobs to help pay for nursing school and a small one room apartment close to campus, had been a liberating moment. Several curve balls had been thrown her way in adulthood, delaying her graduation by a few years, but she’d finally managed to graduate with honors. Learning to work through the past, it got sloppy at times, but she did day by day.
Charlotte had given up on trying to convince Lucy to move from the apartment where there were more bugs than people, but she refused. Stubborn ways kept her there. Just like keeping the old chair that had smelled like butt when they lugged it into the apartment.
She stepped through the narrow doorway into the room off the kitchen, a laundry-room-turned-Charlotte’s-bedroom. The room wasn’t much bigger than a closet but she’d never had many things outside of a twin bed, small three-drawer dresser, and a lamp. It surprised her that Lucy hadn’t done something with the space since Charlotte moved, not even using it to fill with useless clutter. Maybe she was hoping that one day Charlotte would come back.
Leaving the room, she closed the door behind her and breathed in deeply. Although she couldn’t say that her every dream was about to come true, she did know she’d be in control of her own decisions.
In the living room, she picked up the empty beer bottles and overflowing ashtray and dumped them. Her aunt would be hung over this morning and Charlotte would come to the rescue as she’d done many times.
Taking bread from the cabinet, she checked the expiration date then placed a slice into the toaster. Thankfully, she found eggs and bacon in the fridge, leftover from the groceries she bought last week. And a moldy TV dinner that she tossed.
Once breakfast was prepared, she placed it on a tray and grabbed the coffee on her way out of the kitchen. The closer she got to her aunt’s bedroom the stronger the scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap floral perfume became.
Standing on the outside of the closed door, she breathed in for bravery. She could do this. She was an adult. Inhaling the putrid odor, she sneezed. Making her way into the room, she set the tray down on the nightstand.
Her aunt’s snoring echoed off the bare walls.
Charlotte pulled the curtain back on the window and opened it a few inches. The sounds of children playing in the courtyard wafted in. She’d always liked the sounds of joy.
Turning on the heels of her Converses, she stared through the heavy smog at the sleeping figure laying under the piles of blankets.
A part of her wanted to let Lucy stay asleep, but she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. As much as she feared telling her aunt about the move, she needed to do the right thing.
Giving Lucy a gentle shake, it took several more attempts until she finally moaned, cursed, and farted. “What the hell?” she mumbled in a ragged voice.
“I made you breakfast.”
Charlotte went to the dresser and stared at her reflection in the spotted mirror. Her long, dark curls were pulled into a messy bun, her usual look these days. She wore no makeup and couldn’t remember the last time she’d applied foundation or mascara, and this morning she could have used a bit of concealer to hide the inky circles under her eyes. She’d tossed and turned most of the night and finally at the crack of dawn she gave up on sleep.
Today was a big day. She had to tell her aunt that she was leaving, and Charlotte wasn’t sure what response she’d get. One could never know how Lucy would react when something bothered her. Making breakfast on a paper plate and the coffee in Styrofoam was one way to make sure so there was no china within reach to throw.
Her aunt finally crawled out from the wrinkled blankets, grabbed her dry vape from the nightstand and took a long drag before she glanced across the short distance with a blood shot glare. The redness of her eyes matched her rosy complexion. She’d stopped dying her hair black six months ago and her silver roots had grown out to ear length. “Why are you waking me up so early?”
“It’s ten o’clock. Not so early and I needed to speak to you.” Charlotte took the plate of food and set it on Lucy’s lap which eased the crinkles around her eyes—some.
“You look…different,” she said around a mouthful of egg.
“I’m wearing a new shirt.” Plucking at the gauzy
material, Charlotte sat on the end of the bed. Buying new clothes happened rarely for her, but she’d decided that a few new things couldn’t hurt, like the pretty shirt and new jeans. And cowgirl boots. A woman heading to Texas needed to fit in. “Bristol said hello,” she tossed in casually.
“Hmmph. I don’t like her.”
“She’d been there for me when I needed someone the most.” Four years ago during a breast self-exam she’d discovered a lump in her breast. After going through a battery of tests the specialist diagnosed her with a rare condition, atypical hyperplasia, and they put her on hormonal therapy. She’d recovered, but she worried that sometime in the future that could change. The condition changed the entire dynamic of relationships and had destroyed her last with her fiancé.
In the process of getting healthier, she’d learned a lot about herself—and how she and Ryan, her fiancé of two years, had nothing in common. Agreeing to go their separate ways had been a very difficult choice, but a necessary one. She’d buried herself in work, helping others, and the rare times she missed him happened only when she felt sorry for herself, but ice cream was a miracle cure. And extra shifts.
“She dresses like a slut.”
“That’s not very nice of you, Aunt Lucy,” Charlotte scolded.
“Yeah, yeah.” She shrugged a bony shoulder. “Can’t say a damn thing these days without offending someone.”
“How are the eggs?”
“Good.”
“I’m moving,” she blurted.
The fork hit the plate, knocking food out onto Lucy’s lap. “Moving? Where?”
“Tarnation, Texas.”
She smacked her lips as if the words wouldn’t come. “Whatever for? Do you know the difference between a cow and a dog?”
Charlotte stood and went to the window to look out where the children kicked a ball around the unkempt courtyard.
Why did she feel a sense of guilt for leaving? She could decide for herself where she lived, what she did in life. Over the years she’d felt an overwhelming obligation to her aunt. After all, she had taken Charlotte in when otherwise she would have ended up in foster care. Lucy had never been nurturing or affectionate, but she had been the only parent Charlotte had ever really known. “I’m moving there to be closer to Betty Sue.”
Lucy’s cold laughter filled the air. “Let me guess. She’s one of your mom’s relatives.”
“Yes. My cousin.” Charlotte anticipated the negativity that would come. It always did.
The mention of her mother always did bring out the worst in Lucy. “Your mother was a bitch and your father was a bastard. The little money he had he spent on gambling and the little he won he spent on alcohol. Never kept a job longer than two weeks and screwed anything with two legs. Forget about going to Tarnation.” Her groan rattled the window. “You’re going to stay here.”
Charlotte planted a smile on her lips, not allowing her aunt to trigger more guilt. “I’ve already made arrangements. I even have a job waiting for me. I’m flying out today.”
“What?” Lucy’s lips thinned and the wrinkles around her mouth deepened into quivering trenches. “And you’re just now telling me this? Why’s the old lady always the last to know?”
“I want you to be happy for me.”
“What about Ryan?” She grabbed her vape, inhaled, which sent her into a coughing fit. She gulped the coffee.
“What about him?”
“You can’t tell me there’s not a chance you two won’t hook up again. I saw him the other day. He asked about you.”
“No. Ryan and I won’t be getting back together. Ever.” Lucy didn’t like many people, but she’d liked Ryan. She especially liked that he was a junior associate at a law firm.
“Why are you always making the wrong decisions?” Lucy moaned.
“I guess it’s just in my genes.”
The sarcasm went unpounced on.
“What about me? You know I don’t get around much these days. My feet are killing me.”
Lifting her chin and folding her arms over her waist, Charlotte said stiffly, “It’s time I did something for myself. The doctor said you needed to walk more to keep the circulation going in your feet and stop drinking. I noticed by the empty bottles in the living room that you didn’t take Dr. Kenworth’s suggestion to heart.”
As every other time when the drinking came up, Lucy changed the subject. “After all that I’ve done for you. You’re going to treat me like yesterday’s trash?”
“That’s not what I’m doing, and you know it. I’m branching out.”
“You can do it here. Stop talking foolish.”
Charlotte cleared her throat. “It’s already settled. I bought the ticket and there’s no turning back.”
“Fine,” Lucy grumbled. “Then why are you here?”
“I’ve asked our neighbor to check on you. She has agreed. You like Jamie. Maybe you two can go to Bingo and stop at that diner you really love.”
“I tolerate Jamie. That’s all. I don’t want her coming over here and checking on me and fussing.”
Going back to the bed, Charlotte sat down. “I spoke to Marvin at the market. He said he’s willing to give you your job back. He needs someone in the deli and a cashier. He promised he’ll give you another chance as long as you stop in the next few days.”
“What? I wouldn’t give that uptight twerp the time of day. After the way he treated me? Pfft. Accusing me of stealing?” She inhaled loudly, pushed the plate off her lap and stood, a little wobbly at first but quickly gained her bearings. Pieces of egg rolled off her gown and dropped to the floor. “And how dare you go behind my back and speak to that man. I don’t need you to arrange jobs for me.” Her gray eyes turned a shade darker.
“I thought you’d want to go back. You worked there for twenty years and he was a flexible boss. And for the record, he didn’t accuse you of stealing. Marvin only said that you’d made a mistake in cashing out.”
“Sorry that I had lost a couple of dollars. I was tired.” Lucy pulled on her short pink robe, brought out a full pack of cigarettes and started to light one when she met Charlotte’s accusing gaze. “Damn.” She dropped the unlit cigarette and pack back into her pocket with a disappointed groan.
“Martin said you’d been having a few rough nights there at the end.”
“And you believe him?”
“I’m not taking sides. You need the job, Lucy. I don’t mind continuing to help you out, that’s fine. I’ll send you money, but I can’t stay here. I won’t stay here.”
Her aunt’s shoulders slumped some. “Then go.” She waved her spindly hand through the air like a fairy godmother with a magic wand. “I don’t need you or your help. I’ll find my own job too, thank you very much.”
“I’m sure you’ll find one.”
“Selfish.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re selfish. When your mom couldn’t take care of you who swept in and did the right thing? I did. I didn’t have to, but I did out of the grace of my heart and this is how I’m paid back. You get some shiny certificate and then everything here is useless. That doesn’t surprise me. Your mother was the same way. Selfish to the bone.”
Charlotte gritted her teeth, holding back the hurt that bubbled up into her chest. She’d heard this same argument so many times over the years and each one seemed to burrow deeper. Although her memories had nearly faded of the woman who people said she looked identical to, she’d held out hope that one day her mother would show up, wanting to fix the broken relationship—or maybe apologize for sucking at parenting. That never happened and after this long Charlotte guessed it never would. She had no idea where her mother had gone, if she was even still alive, but she wanted to believe that she’d turned her life around from drugs and crime. As a nurse, Charlotte had seen countless lives destroyed from bad choices.
New scenery was exactly what she needed.
Stiffening her back, Charlotte reached into her back pocket and took out the check she�
��d written that morning and placed it on the nightstand. She stepped toward the door and turned back only to say, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Aunt Lucy. Take care of yourself.” She walked away.
In the hallway, she started for the stairs when she heard her name.
Jamie met her in the corridor. The friendly woman wore an encouraging smile and she took Charlotte’s hand as she had so many times over the years. “Remember what I said, sweet thing. You go on and find yourself and leave your aunt to me. She’ll be fine. She won’t scare me away. I’ve learned long ago her bark is bigger than her bite.”
“How will I ever repay you?”
“For what?”
“You’ve fed me, comforted me, inspired me over the years. You were the one who came to my school functions. Attended my college graduation.”
“Honey, bite your tongue. You kept this old lady young. You make sure you stay in touch and when you’re in town you stop by.”
“I will.” Giving the woman a quick hug, Charlotte hurried down the stairs before her tears overflowed. Once she was on the sidewalk, she sniffed back the emotion and gathered her feelings. She had nothing to feel guilty about. Lucy should be proud that Charlotte wanted to expand her horizon. Maybe one day her aunt would come around.
CHAPTER TWO
Two weeks later.
Plucking a lollipop from the pocket of her scrubs, she handed it to the sweet little girl with big blue eyes and her blonde hair pulled back into two ponytails. “You were very brave, Isabelle.” The eight-year-old didn’t shed one tear during her immunizations.
“You were wonderful with her. You have such a great bedside manner.” Isabelle’s mom, a young brunette with bright eyes, shook Charlotte’s hand. “I hope you’ll stay here at the clinic. We need more caring nurses like you in this small town.”
Bighearted Cowboy (Tarnation, Texas Book 5) Page 2