by Kat Mizera
“I was in Europe. I didn’t get your message right away but I came as soon as I could get on a flight.”
“Europe. I didn’t think a teacher could afford trips to Europe.”
Charli opted not to rise to the bait and merely waited. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“I suppose I am.” Denita Bartosiewicz walked inside, leaving Charli to come in and close the door.
The house looked almost exactly the same. The same old couch in the living room, the same scuffed wood floors and beat-up furniture, but there was a much bigger flat-screen television on the wall. The rug by the armchair in the corner had seen better days and even the paint on the walls was chipped and dingy. Had they done nothing in eight years? Or maybe she just remembered it differently.
“You want a cup of coffee?” her mother called out.
“No, thank you.” Charli followed her into the kitchen. “How’s Dad?”
“Not good. They did surgery today and it was difficult. The doctor says the recovery is going to require big lifestyle changes.”
“That’s encouraging, though, isn’t it?” Charli asked. “That he made it through surgery and is going to recover?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Her mother poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’m having coffee. You sure you don’t want any?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“I suppose you’re expecting to stay here,” she said. “Your old room is a sewing room and I haven’t made up the bed in the guest room. You’ll have to sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Mom, I can put sheets on the bed; it’s not a big deal.”
“Oh. Yes. I just, well, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Why did you call me if you didn’t want me to come?” Charli demanded, familiar hurt and frustration washing over her.
“Because as your father was being loaded into the ambulance, he asked for you.”
“I guess I’ll go see him tomorrow and then head back to Finland.”
“You’re going back?” Her mother looked confused.
“Yes. My boyfriend’s family is there and that’s where we’re spending the summer.”
“Boyfriend? I suppose it’s time. Does he know what you did?” She met Charli’s eyes with a look that made her question feel like a challenge.
“What I did?” Charli repeated, making a face. “You mean, getting pregnant when I was a teenager? Yes, Mom, he knows. He understands that teenagers make mistakes. That I wasn’t perfect.”
“Well, if you still have the same taste in boys, I’m sure he’s as much of a sinner as you are.”
Charli gritted her teeth, trying to find the right words. If she lost her temper, her mother would say she was immature and emotional, so she had to be calm and refute everything with logic.
“Well, Miikka’s a man, not a boy, but he’s one of the kindest, most loving and generous men I’ve ever known.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He’s a professional hockey player.”
Her mother smirked. “Another bad boy with attitude. Well, you do have a type.”
Charli blew out a breath. “Mom, I didn’t come here to fight. I’d like to see Dad tomorrow, and if he’s okay, I’ll get out of your hair. I probably shouldn’t have come.” She got up and walked out of the room.
After such a long flight and with the time difference, Charli hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours and she dozed off the moment her head hit the pillow in the guest room. She was restless, though, and up by eight the following morning. The house sounded quiet, so she grabbed a few things and got into the shower. She wanted to call Miikka before she left for the day and then get the visit with her father over with. Coming here had almost definitely been a mistake, but as Miikka had pointed out, she was being the bigger person by reaching out and doing the right thing. Her father had a heart attack and she was his only child. By coming to see him, she’d extended an olive branch of sorts, and everything else would be up to them.
She pulled on a pair of capris and a blouse, slid her feet into sandals and didn’t bother with makeup. She was tired and a little stressed, and she just wanted to get to the hospital. Her mother’s hostility last night had been expected but it still hurt and she’d come too far to let her mother do that to her at this stage in her life.
Miikka answered on the first ring when she called him and she almost cried at the sound of his voice.
“How’s it going?” he asked quietly.
“Well, my mother is hostile and said she hadn’t expected me to come. I haven’t seen my father yet, but I’ll head to the hospital as soon as we hang up.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”
“No, I’m fine. Hopefully, I’ll be on my way back to Finland by day after tomorrow at the latest.”
“Take your time,” he said gently. “Even if your mother is being difficult, do your best to talk to her, get to the root of the problems, discuss everything. Even if you fight or cry or whatever. Let it out, hani. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m going to try,” she whispered.
“I love you, Char-lot.”
“Minäkin rakastan sinua.”
“I think soon you’ll speak better Finnish than I speak English.”
“I highly doubt it, but I bought a book and I’m studying all the words I can find.”
“You can practice when you get back.”
“I miss you,” she said softly.
“A few more days,” he said.
“Charlotte, are you ready to go?” Her mother’s voice drifted up the stairs and she sighed.
“I’ll be right down, Mom!” she yelled back. “I have to go, Miikka.”
“Text me. Don’t worry about the charges. I want to be here for you, okay?”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
26
Charli’s mother had made breakfast and Charli poured herself a cup of coffee as she joined her in the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to cook, Mom. I could’ve grabbed a bagel or something.”
“It’s part of my routine,” she responded. “It’s no trouble.” She put a plate of eggs in front of Charli. “So tell me about…Miikka?”
“He’s twenty-four and plays for the Alaska Blizzard. His family is from Finland. He has an older sister and a younger brother. His father is a carpenter and his mother works at a doctor’s office.”
“Are you getting married or merely living in sin?”
Charli sighed. “Why do you do that? Why is everything centered on your antiquated sense of morality? We’re new, feeling things out, making sure what we have is right before rushing into anything. Marriage isn’t the end-all or any guarantee that things are meant to be.”
“I suppose I’ll just keep my opinions to myself,” she said, turning away.
“Isn’t it time we move past what happened? I’m almost twenty-five, with a career and a home and a good man in my life. I’m happy. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“You made laughingstocks out of our family,” her mother responded tightly. “Your father is the pastor here, in charge of the moral compass of the young people in this town, and he couldn’t even control his own child. Do you know how bad that made him look?”
“Last time I checked, Jesus died on the cross for our sins, and I’m fairly certain I’m not the only sinner in town. Mrs. Harkness got three DUIs when I was in high school, and on the third one she killed someone. But because Mr. Harkness is the mayor, she got probation and rehab. Do you believe sex is worse than murder?”
“You’re comparing apples to oranges,” her mother said.
“Okay, what about Mr. Cranston? He slept with his secretary, got her pregnant, quickly divorced Mrs. Cranston and then married said twenty-two-year-old secretary. Adultery isn’t a sin?”
“He was a grown man who made his own choices. You were a child who refused to obey, refused to behave appropriately.”
�
��So it’s okay for a grown man to commit adultery but not for a teenager to fall in love?”
Denita got up and started putting her dishes in the sink. “You’ve always been obstinate, Charlotte. It’s impossible to reason with you.”
“I seem to get that from you,” she responded, tossing the rest of her breakfast and putting her dish in the sink.
“Must you always have the last word?”
“Yes.” Charli folded her arms across her chest. “You put your scared, pregnant seventeen-year-old daughter out on the street and not only that, you made it so she couldn’t finish high school. You wouldn’t even let me get my clothes until Grandpa got here. How is that the Christian thing to do? What about forgiveness? Charity? Do any of those words sound familiar?”
“Don’t you dare preach to me, young lady!” her mother snapped.
“I’m an adult now, Mom, and I’m tired of this. I made a mistake, but it was a long time ago and you’re still my mother. If you can’t see fit to forgive me, then I’ll visit Dad and be out of your hair tonight.” She turned on her heel and ran upstairs to pack up her things. This was so damn frustrating, it was like beating her head against the wall.
She put her suitcase in the car and drove to the hospital. The nearest cardiac unit was more than twenty minutes away, in a bigger suburb of Wichita, and she didn’t wait for her mother to get there. Luckily, she remembered where it was and got there fairly quickly. If the meeting with her father went even half as bad as what she’d experienced with her mother so far, she was going to be a basket case by the end of the day.
She walked inside before her mother arrived, hoping to have just a few minutes alone with her father. She wouldn’t argue with him, but he tended to be a lot more mellow than her mother, so maybe she’d at least be able to tell him she’d been worried about him before her mother arrived and upset both of them.
She’d called the hospital earlier and knew the room number, so she found her way there, taking a moment to compose herself before going inside.
He appeared to be asleep and while she hadn’t noticed a huge change in her mother, her father looked older. Whether it was because of the heart attack or the fact that he was in a cardiac ICU unit or he’d simply just gotten older, she wasn’t sure, but the difference was poignant.
She sat in the chair beside his bed and watched him for a few minutes, a hundred things going through her mind. Would he be as hostile as her mother? She wouldn’t argue with him in this condition, which meant taking anything he dished out, and the whole thing just made her sad. She never should have come here. There would be no closure for her, no repairing the relationship with her parents, no amends to be made for anyone.
She reached for her father’s hand anyway, because it seemed like the right thing to do, holding it gently as she debated whether or not to leave without talking to him or saying goodbye to her mother. It would be so easy to slip out and get on a plane back to Finland, but she didn’t want to feel guilty. Once she left this time, she was never looking back. It wasn’t the closure she’d been hoping for, but it was a finale of sorts anyway.
“Charlotte?” Her father’s raspy voice startled her and she quickly met his gaze.
“Hi, Dad.”
“You came.” He seemed so tired.
“I did. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Did you…see your mother?”
“Yes. I slept at the house last night.”
“Oh, good. You’ve come home.”
Christ, this was a clusterfuck.
“I have a job in Alaska, Dad. I haven’t moved home. I just came to see you.”
“But you’ll come back, won’t you? Your mother will need you if something happens to me.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she said softly. “Just rest now, okay?”
“Charlotte, don’t upset your father.” Denita came in with her perpetual scowl on her face.
“She’s fine, Denita. Come sit with me so I have both my girls back together.”
Charli resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her father definitely wasn’t himself right now because he’d never cared about having his two girls together, even before she’d gotten pregnant. They hadn’t been one of those touchy-feely families who hugged and laughed and cuddled on the couch for movie night.
Her mother sat on the other side of his hospital bed and he seemed to perk up a little as he asked about Charli’s life in Anchorage. He was curious about teaching five-year-olds and she told him funny stories about her students because it seemed to make him smile.
“My favorite this year was a little boy named Niko. His father is Russian and Niko speaks Russian as well as English. When he’s upset or frustrated, he says no in Russian, which is nyet, and the whole class started doing it. Some days it’s frustrating, but usually they all make me laugh.”
“Sounds like you’re happy,” he said quietly.
“I am. I’ve built a nice life with a good job, friends, and now a great boyfriend.”
Her mother snorted under her breath and Charli sighed. She refrained from saying anything because of her father’s health but she reminded herself she was getting out of here soon.
“So is it serious with your young man?”
Charli frowned slightly but nodded. “Yes. We’ve just moved in together.”
His gaze darkened a little. “So he’s living in the house your grandfather left you? Free of charge?”
“Dad.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Miikka’s a professional athlete. He makes a lot of money. He’s not living with me for free.”
Now her father wanted to hear everything about her professional hockey player and Charli had to switch gears again, unsure what was happening. It was like her parents were playing good cop/bad cop, and she was some kind of suspect. She just didn’t know what she was suspected of.
“So if something happens to me, then you can move your mom to Anchorage with you,” Norman said after a few minutes.
Charli opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her mother jumped in, though, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Norman. I won’t live in a house of sin.”
“They’ll get married and give you the grandchildren you want so much. Don’t be so old-fashioned, Den.”
Charli watched the lighthearted play between her parents, though it was mostly her father, and wondered if this was their new normal or if the heart attack had somehow changed him. He’d always been fairly rigid, but he seemed much more relaxed now and it was confusing as hell.
“Norman, say what you need to say to your daughter,” Denita said after a moment. “She’s leaving today.”
“You’re leaving?” Norman asked, his gaze shifting back to Charli.
“We haven’t spoken to each other in years,” she said slowly. “I came because I wanted to see you, in case you or Mom needed anything, but you’re going to be fine and I know I’m not welcome in your life.”
His eyes swung to Denita. “What did you say to her?” he asked.
Denita pursed her lips. “Nothing has changed, Norm. She’s still the same, living in sin with a man, not following the teachings of the scripture.”
Norman and Charli sighed almost at the same time. “She’s our daughter, Den.”
“She left us a long time ago!” Denita whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“You sent me away,” Charli interjected quietly. “I needed you and you kicked me out of the house, so don’t put this on me.”
Mother and daughter glared at each other but Charli backed down first because she didn’t want to upset her father. “I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t want to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” he said, reaching for her hand again. “I’m just…sorry. We didn’t handle your situation well, and to be honest, when I was having the heart attack and I was lying there on the floor, I realized I didn’t want to leave this life without seeing my daughter again. Seeing if I could make things right.”
“You hurt me
,” Charli said quietly, looking away, though she didn’t release his hand. “I was so scared and you tossed me out like…trash.”
“If I have any regrets in this life, it’s that,” he said. “We were hurt and embarrassed, but putting you out wasn’t the right thing to do. I’d like very much to see if we can fix what we broke.”
“Norman—” Denita began.
“Denita.” He looked at her. “Don’t you see? This is God’s way of telling us we made a mistake.”
Denita sighed, dropping her head. She didn’t respond and Charli nearly held her breath as she waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. Some sort of acceptance of responsibility for her mother’s part in what had happened?
When it didn’t come, Charli got up. “I’m going for a walk and I’ll be back in a little while.”
“You’re coming back?” her father asked, his eyes meeting hers.
“I won’t leave without saying goodbye.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead and then walked out of the room.
“Hey, Charli.”
The voice was eerily familiar.
She slowly turned around and froze.
27
Roy?
Her heart was beating so hard it was almost painful. He was older and harder looking, but it was still Roy. Still the devilishly handsome boy who’d stolen her heart and then stomped it into a million pieces. He was different now, though. There was an underlying roughness she’d never noticed as a teenager. Maybe it was because they were both older, or maybe it was because she was now used to the consistent light and sweetness she always saw in Miikka, but grown-up Roy was a harsh, miserable reminder of a time she wanted to forget.
When she didn’t respond, he gave her an obvious once-over as he approached her. “Looking good, Charles.” The old nickname somehow wasn’t cute anymore and she scowled at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I live here. More than I can say for you.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You took my kid and ran.”