Helen has been spending quite a bit more time at home, recently! I told you that she promised me in my bedroom a few weeks ago, but I didn't know she would actually do as she said! She comes home from rehearsals early to have dinner with us, and we have been attending church every week. Helen has even taken me shopping a few times! Tonight we are attending her first performance of her new play. I'm so excited! She's so wonderful. I can't wait for you to meet her, for I know you will love her, as well!
But on the other side of news, I'm afraid that Jack and I still do not get along. I hardly see him anymore, honestly. It seems as if he is always out with friends. He will seldom have dinner with the family and doesn't really go to church, either. When I do see him, he doesn't talk much. At least not to me. I just very much feel as if he thinks I'm an annoying pain in his side. It makes me miss you so much more, Luc!
I hope you and the family are well, as I said before. Every day, I hope to receive a letter from one of you, but I haven't heard from any of you in weeks now. Please write if you can. I hope you are at least reading my letters, and know that I am well.
With all my love,
Charlotte
PS The bear cat is doing well. The house calls him "Lucky". He spends most of his time with Lewis in his office, for they very much enjoy each other's company! I think he is getting fatter from all of Mrs. Gates' cooking.
"Here we are!" Lewis said, showing Charlotte into the second row of seats in the theater. "Helen makes sure to reserve these seats for our family every show."
"My mother always requested a box for my brother and father to sit in," Charlotte told him as she sat down in the plush velvet seat, her tulle skirt billowing around her knees.
"I used to request a box, as well," Lewis confided, handing Charlotte a playbill. "But when I first met Helen, she insisted we sit right at the front of the theatre. She said that you could feel the magic radiating from the onstage players. And she was right. Now I won't sit anywhere else."
Charlotte smiled at Lewis. She was constantly in awe of his adoration for his wife. Someday she wished for the same love that they shared.
"Jack, thank you so much for coming tonight," Lewis told his son as he sat beside Charlotte, Jack seated on his other side. Jack had been his usual self on the car ride to the theater, quiet and brooding. He hadn't said two words to Charlotte, but she didn't mind anymore. She was quite finished with his antics by this point.
"It means so much to both me and your mother that you're here tonight," Lewis continued.
"Yes, well," Jack said nonchalantly, not looking at his father. "It seemed rather important to her that I be here, with it being her last opening night for a while. And I haven't been here in ages, either."
"You know you're more than welcome to come to the theater any time you like, Jack," Lewis pointed out. "You know your mother and I had always hoped that you would be involved with it somehow."
Jack didn't reply. He just began leafing through his playbill. Charlotte looked away from him and opened her own program, her eyes widening in excitement.
"Oh, Lewis! We're seeing The Importance of Being Earnest?" she cried, looking up at Lewis with wide eyes.
"Didn't Helen ever tell you?" Lewis asked amusedly. "Have you read the play before?"
"Yes! It was one of the books you loaned me when I first arrived in England! It was one of my favorites! Oh, how I wish I could perform it someday. And Helen is playing Gwendolyn?" Charlotte asked, scanning through her playbill. "Oh, she's going to be hilarious! And so beautiful!"
"I agree," Lewis said with a grin. "She's always enjoyed this play, as well. I think that's why she decided to take the role in the first place."
Charlotte nearly squealed in excitement, but settled down in her seat as the lights of the theater began to fade and the heavy red curtain swung open. A hush fell over the entire audience, and Charlotte found herself holding her breath as the two beginning actors took the stage, beginning their lines with startling confidence.
And then she was lost in it, the world of theatre. There was no other way to describe it but magical. The patrons sitting around her, the hot lights illuminating the stage, the set crew waiting offstage, none of them were real. The only reality was the players onstage, and the world they created through their expressions and words. And at that moment, Charlotte knew that she wanted to be a part of it.
Helen commanded the stage with such beauty her lovely blonde curls swept into a style from a century past, dressed elegantly in a silk frock fit for a queen. She spoke in a voice so unlike the one she used at the house, which was quiet and soft. But on stage, she spoke with dedication and immaculate diction, and an air of flippancy as her character would have. She was no longer Helen, but the Honorable Miss Gwendolyn Fairfax.
Charlotte watched with wide eyes, completely in awe of this world the players had created. This is what Mother loved so much, she thought to herself, finally understanding. This is why she came home so late. This is why she missed birthdays and dinners. This is what she loved best in her life. Charlotte finally understood what her Mother must feel, because she now had the same feelings the feeling of such overwhelming excitement, intrigue, love, and awe. And now she finally understood why her mother had wanted to keep her away from the theatre. It was just too addictive. Already, Charlotte was in love.
"This is Charlotte, the girl I've told you so much about!" Helen gushed with a wide grin, clasping Charlotte's hand in her own. After the show, she had insisted on taking Charlotte backstage to meet the rest of the cast and for her own little tour. She seemed thrilled to have the chance to show someone what she loved so much.
"It's wonderful to meet you, darling," said the pretty little redhead who had played the other leading lady, Cecily. She sat in the dressing room that she and Helen shared. Flowers crowded every corner. She shook Charlotte's hand with a smile. "I'm Lizzie Ferguson. Please come visit whenever you'd like! We love visitors!"
"Thank you," Charlotte said with a smile. The past few hours had been a blur of activity, but was more fun than she'd had in years.
"Well, we'd better be off," Helen told Lizzie, giving her a peck on the cheek. She slung a bag over her shoulder and took Charlotte's hand once again. "Lewis will be waiting. And Jack came tonight, as well!"
"Did he?" Lizzie asked in surprise. "That's wonderful! I haven't seen him since I started at the theatre when I was, oh, seventeen. He must have been eleven or twelve back then!"
"He'll be eighteen tomorrow," Helen said with a bittersweet smile. "I can't believe he's going to be so old. We're going to have an early dinner at Mon Plaisir with my family."
"Well, have fun," Lizzie told her. "And it was lovely to meet you, Charlotte. Come by any time."
"Alright," Charlotte grinned. "Thank you."
Helen pulled her from the dressing room. "I'm so glad you came tonight, darling. You're such a sweetheart to do so. Opening nights are always so exciting and it's always so wonderful to have family there to see it." Charlotte's heart leapt at the thought of being a part of Helen's family. "Did you enjoy it? The play? Oh, I know there were a few lines we dropped and the humor was a bit off..."
"It was amazing!" Charlotte insisted. "Really, Helen! I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life!"
Helen laughed and patted Charlotte's hand. "You sound just like I did after I saw my first show! Although, with a mother such as yours, it's not hard to imagine that the theatre excites you. It's in your blood."
"But I never really saw one of her performances," Charlotte said. "At least not that I really appreciated. I was either really young, or kept in the back of the box where I wouldn't be a disturbance. I occupied myself with coloring books and dolls. I had never really appreciated it until tonight. But oh, it was magical!"
Helen stopped walking and looked at Charlotte with a bit of a frown. "Charlotte, do you know why your mother never liked you to come to the theatre?"
Charlotte thought for a moment, but nodded. "I think," she
began slowly, "I think she wanted to spare me from the life she had. Even though she loved us, she loved the theatre more. And we just got in the way. It was hard to balance it all at once. So I think she felt that if I spotted a bit of theatre...I would become addicted. And I would have a life just as difficult as she did."
"But your brother..."
"Luc never had a real interest in theatre," Charlotte told Helen. "He appreciated it. He enjoyed the performances. But he never had the inclination to actually perform. I don't think it ever crossed his mind. So I think Mother thought it was safe to let him come to her shows. But not me. Maybe I was just too much like her."
Helen took Charlotte's chin in her hand and tipped it upward so that their eyes met.
"Charlotte, you may come here any time you'd like," Helen told her seriously, her blue eyes insistent. "If it's your passion, I want you to experience it. I want you to have the chance to experience it." She gave a sad smile. "When Jack was first born, I dreamt that I would someday watch him up onstage. I dreamt that I would see the name John Lewis Carey up on the board outside the theatre or printed in a playbill. But Jack was like Luc. He never had the real interest in it, as much as it saddened me. Charlotte, it seems that your mother was the only one in your family with this passion, and it secluded her from the rest of you. And it saddens me that it took so long for me to realize this, but that was the very same thing Lewis and I did to Jack."
Charlotte frowned in confusion.
"Lewis and I...we are so passionate about our work. But Jack doesn't have that same passion. And I fear that we pushed him away because of it," Helen said sadly.
"Oh Helen, don't think like that," Charlotte insisted. "You and Lewis are such sweet, wonderful parents. Jack was very lucky to have you. I wish my..." Charlotte's voice dropped off. She couldn't say such things about her parents, not when she didn't know if they were safe or not.
"Come whenever you'd like," Helen reiterated once again, looping her arm through Charlotte's and leading them out the stage door. "Just as I had always hoped Jack would."
The next evening, the family met at a fancy French restaurant in London in honor of Jack's 18th birthday.
"I really don't want anything extravagant," Jack had insisted that morning after breakfast, his hair still a mess from sleep. "Really, Mum. I'd rather just have a dinner at home."
"Nonsense, this is a big occasion!" Helen had insisted, buttering her blueberry muffin. "Your Uncle Hugo and Frances and Aunt Olivia and Michael have already planned on dinner. Besides, it's not every day that my only child turns eighteen!"
"Dad " Jack had tried insisting.
"Your mother's right, Jack," Lewis had cut him off, folding his newspaper on the breakfast table. "This is an important day for you. We want to celebrate."
"Your good suit is pressed and waiting for you on your bed," Mrs. Dawes had told him with a little push. "Now go on, you. Stop badgering them about it and have fun."
Charlotte had to admit that Jack did look rather excited on the ride to the restaurant. In a way, he reminded her of how Luc had been on his birthday still like a giddy young boy who had just received a new toy. There was a spark in Jack's eyes that she didn't see every day, and his cheeks were flushed. He was even smiling, laughing a little as his parents made jokes in the car.
They met Helen's family at the restaurant. Helen's older brother Hugo was tall and thin, and so much so that he made Lewis look short and stocky. Hugo wore thick glasses and spoke in a stuffy voice. He and his uptight wife Frances had no children, and mostly liked to talk about money, which from what Charlotte could gather, they were not in short supply of.
On the other hand, Helen's baby sister Olivia, who couldn't have been more than five years older than Jack, was pretty and blonde and sweet just like Helen. She had bigger eyes and smoother hair than her older sister, but their smiles and laughs were remarkably similar. She had brought her fiancé Michael to dinner, and he seemed as good-natured and lovely as his bride-to-be. Charlotte was secretly glad that she had been seated closer to Olivia than to Hugo.
"So, Jack," Olivia said with a grin, leaning over the table. "Have you gotten your gifts yet?"
"No, no," Jack replied with a smile. "I told them not to do anything fancy, but knowing my parents they probably have a surprise up their sleeves." He shrugged good-naturedly. "Thank you for your gifts, by the way."
Olivia grimaced. "Sorry it was so dull. But your mum insisted that you needed a new schoolbag, and I don't even go against my sister's word. But when you get home, check the back pocket. We've slipped a check inside. See? Not so dull," she said with a wink. "And I imagine whatever Michael and I gave you was a hell of a lot more interesting than what my good old brother Hugo did," she said with a sly smile.
Jack laughed. "No, it was great, Aunt Olivia," he insisted. "And I really did need a schoolbag, anyway." He lowered his voice. "But yeah, theirs was a bit dull...savings bonds."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "They still give me those. I expect I'll be receiving one as a wedding present." She giggled mischievously. She turned to Charlotte with her cat-like smile. "So, Charlotte. How are you enjoying England this far? It must seem pretty dull compared to Paris."
Charlotte looked up in surprise, like a schoolgirl who hadn't expected to be called on. The family had been chatting comfortably for over an hour. Charlotte had enjoyed listening to their happy, familial chatter, but she hadn't expected to be brought into their conversation. She glanced over to Jack, whose eyes were upon her, waiting for her answer. His blue eyes continually cut her to the quick. She never knew when she would anger him. But lately, all she secretly wanted to do was impress him. She didn't want him to like her more. She just wanted him to be able to tolerate her.
"Oh dear, don't be nervous," Olivia said kindly, reaching to place her hand over Charlotte's. Her eyes were calming. "I know that we're all very overwhelming. But believe me we all wish for you to feel right at home here, even though your home is very far away."
Charlotte could still feel Jack's eyes on her, but she tried not to let them bother her. "Well...firstly, everyone always presumes that London is dull compared to Paris. But really, I think it's wonderful." She smiled genuinely. "In Paris, I would go to school and come home. And that was that. I saw the Eiffel Tower regularly, and went to the Louvre for school trips at least once a year. But it became so natural to me that I didn't appreciate it anymore. But when I came to London...on the very first day, as Topher drove me through the city, I was in complete awe of the city. The way the mist fell onto the cobblestones, and how beautifully Big Ben stood out against the dull sky. I love the housing, they way the buildings stand so tall and proud. I love the local shops and restaurants. And most of all, I love the theatre," Charlotte finished breathlessly, remembering how only the night before, she had been standing in those magnificent wings.
"It's so beautiful to hear someone talk about London that way," Olivia told Charlotte sincerely. She smiled. "And my sister? What do you think about living with her and her family? They're being good to you, aren't they?" She turned and playfully nudged Jack, but he just gave a small, nervous smile as he continued to look at Charlotte.
"Oh, Helen and Lewis are wonderful," Charlotte said truthfully. "They really are. I couldn't possibly have imagined better people to live with, and think of as my second mother and father. But..." she glanced nervously at Jack. "It's a little harder with Jack." She hesitated.
"Go on," Jack said quietly. Charlotte was surprised. She hadn't expected him to comment at all. "You can be honest, Charlotte."
Charlotte bit her lip anxiously. "It's just hard. Because if I had really been born Helen and Lewis' daughter, Jack would have been my brother. But Jack is...nothing like my brother. And I love my brother," Charlotte whispered, her eyes clouding with tears despite her frustrated attempts to hold them in. "And I miss him. So much. And the fact that Jack isn't anything like him just makes me miss him even more. Because I can't go into his room to talk if I have a pr
oblem. And he doesn't ask me to go to the cinema if he thinks I'd enjoy a film. And he doesn't really want to be around me. Which I understand, because I know I've not been the easiest person to live with." She looked at Jack as her eyes filled with tears, and realized that for the first time, he looked sad.
"And it's almost worse when I'm around Topher," Charlotte cried. "Because he does look so much like my brother. And it's horrible and wonderful at the same time. Because Topher is always just downstairs. But Luc is...a letter away. A boat and a train away. A country away. And it's something I never thought I'd have to deal with. I never thought we'd be separated. I thought that we would both live in Paris forever, and just be a streetcar away. I thought that my children would play with his, and that my husband would take drinks with him and that I would be best friends with Luc's wife. I just never expected this."
"No one ever does expect the terrible things," Olivia told her, passing her a handkerchief. "Except for pessimists. But I'm glad you're not one." She leaned closer to Charlotte with honest eyes. "Charlotte, it's alright for you to miss home. I'm so glad you enjoy London. But don't feel like missing your brother will hurt the Careys. They want you to be happy. But you can't be happy with all your emotions bottled up inside of you." She smiled kindly at Charlotte. "Why don't you go to the powder room and freshen up, darling? Sometimes a splash of cold water does a girl good."
Charlotte nodded and stood from the table. And Jack, like a complete gentlemen, stood up and pulled her chair from under her. As Charlotte passed him, their eyes met. And for the first time, there was an expression of understanding in his eyes that she had never seen before.
Charlotte went to the powder room and splashed some cold water on her face. Taking a little napkin from a holder on the counter, she cleaned the makeup from under her eyes and combed her hands through her hair. She was glad Olivia had suggested she clean up a little in the powder room. She would have felt badly if Helen or Lewis had seen her crying at Jack's birthday dinner.
Breathless Page 7