by Randa Lynn
“Yeah, well… I still saved your ass from going completely in the hole.”
I hand him the paperwork. “Touché.”
He grabs a peppermint out of the jar and pops it in his mouth. “See ya.”
I feel like I have so much to prove. I ran my own construction company back in California, and even though the scale of jobs weren’t this grand, I had a great base. Ryker and Beck, though, it’s so much more than just me. Glenn Ryker was my dad’s best friend and business partner. They built this company from the ground up. After Pops died, Glenn ran it himself. About a year ago Glenn decided he was ready to give it up. He has no kids, no one to pass his half on to, so he offered me everything if I wanted to buy him out. He said he was ready to retire and move off to Wyoming. I did it without a second thought. This is all I have left of my Pops, and I want to continue what he loved so much. Stetson didn’t want it. He wanted nothing to do with the company. I think he just didn’t want the daily reminder that our parents aren’t here anymore. He still has his twenty-five percent, but that’s all. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the running of it. So that’s all on me. I take pride in this job—in the name Ryker and Beck Builders—and I want to be able to leave this company to my children one day.
Children. I want that one day. I thought I had it once, but I was duped. I gaze over at Claire’s photo on my desk. I wonder what she’s doing now. I wonder if she’s having fun. The pain has eased so much in recent months. Although seeing her at the Galleria hurt like hell, I think it was healing. I saw how happy she was. Her happiness seemed to help bandage the wounds. I’m not sure what I would have done had Charlie, not been there, though.
My mind travels to Charlie. She has her bad days, and even worse days, but she does it. She fucking amazes me. She still gets so caught up in her head, in the grief and guilt, sometimes that I have to pull her out. But I’ll pull her out of the flames every day if that’s what it takes. I wasn’t bullshitting when I told her I had her.
I pull out my phone, texting Charlie.
Get dressed. I’ve got somewhere I want to take you.
Thirty minutes later I pull up in my driveway. A smile washes over my face when I see her black little Fiat in my driveway. It feels right. Too right.
My chest twinges as I walk closer to the door. I’m anxious to see her, to hear about her day, to kiss her. Life has been good.
It’s the most beautiful thing in the world watching her walls break off piece by piece. It’s even more amazing knowing she’s allowing me to see who she really is. She’s broken, yes, but my God, is she a beautiful pile of pieces.
I make my way inside and drop my phone and keys on the bar. The house is quiet, nothing but the hum of the air conditioner cutting the silence. “Charlie,” I call out, expecting her to respond.
When she doesn’t, tension wells in my chest. I’m not going to lie, I’m scared one day something will happen, triggering her, causing her to go back into that state of basic comatose. The day of the wedding, I saw a woman defeated. The day I showed up at her apartment, I saw a portion of the woman I knew she was underneath the heartbreak.
After the night of Lizzie and Stetson’s going away party, I could see the light drain from her. The second she kicked me out of her apartment, I swear I could hear her silent screams. Maybe they were my own. I went weeks going crazy from her constant refusal to answer my calls or texts. Every day I thought of her. Every day I imagined wrapping her in my arms, her back against my chest, as I held her all night.
That day at Vinny P’s when I saw her as the elevator doors were closing, I was sure I was imagining things. But the second she snapped her gaze away from mine, it was all too real. She was all too real.
Then… she was gone before the doors ever completely closed.
If I hadn’t listened to that voice in my head that morning telling me I needed to go see my parents at the cemetery, I very well could still be doing the same mundane things I was doing before.
Work. Home. Work. Home.
Home. Charlie is in my house. Fate threw her back into my life like a boomerang, so why do I feel like she’s still not fully mine? I shake my head, clearing myself of the insane thoughts.
I mosey my way into my bedroom, and the first thing I see is Charlie laying in my bed, curled up under my gray and white down comforter. I just stand there, watching her as she sleeps. Her short, blonde hair has fallen in her face, her hand flailed over her head. Seeing the steady rise and fall of her chest eases my tension. Damn, she’s beautiful.
I walk into my closet, kicking my shoes off. After I change into another outfit, I crawl into the bed next to Charlie. She nuzzles her head further into the pillow as I inch closer and pull her into me. “Hey, you,” I whisper, sweeping the hair out of her eyes.
Her eyelids flutter open slowly before they close again. A small smile brushes across her face. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She giggles.
“It’s six in the evening. You should probably get up. I have plans for us.”
Her eyes pop open. “Did you say six? I laid down at eleven this morning. Oh my God.”
Something on my nightstand catches my eye. I look over and see an orange medicine bottle open. My heart stutters for a second. “Migraine?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. I haven’t had one in a while, but I woke up this morning and ran some errands. I came back here because I wanted to surprise you with supper, but—“
“It’s okay,” I interrupt her. I bring my lips to hers, kissing her chastely. “I just hope you don’t have a migraine now.”
She shakes her head, her eyes traveling over me. “I’m all better now.”
I smirk. “Sure you are.”
“How was your day?” she asks, toying with the edge of the sheet.
“Good. Better now that I’m home.” She blushes, and it makes me twitch. I grab her hand, needing to get her out of this house before we never make it out of this bed. “Get dressed. We’re going somewhere. I texted you before I left work, but someone was being Sleeping Beauty.”
“Where are we going?” Her eyes dance around my face in wonder.
I shake my finger at her playfully. “It’s a surprise.”
She rolls her eyes and hops out of bed. Her baggy t-shirt is the only thing hiding what’s underneath. I definitely don’t mind that she hates sleeping in pants. “If you insist,” she calls out before shutting the bathroom door.
I stumbled upon Lucy’s, a little hole in the wall diner, a few months ago after getting lost going to a meeting with a possible client. You’d think growing up in Dallas, I’d know my way around this place like the back of my hand. After years away, however, I seemed to have lost my sense of direction.
Lucky for me, being lost meant I found this gem.
“What is this place?” Charlie asks. She’s up on the edge of the passenger’s seat of my truck.
“Lucy’s,” I answer. “They have the best chili cheese fries in this entire world. And the shakes. Charlie, the shakes will change your life.”
She laughs. “Well let’s go eat some chili cheese fries, then.”
We walk into the diner, and Charlie’s eyes light up at all the old photos lining the walls. Nearly every inch is covered in black and white photos. She slowly walks along the front wall, brushing her fingers along every frame, completely lost in their beauty. “Wow,” she breathes out. “These photos are incredible. They’re so… real.” She eyes a photo of a woman who is staring directly ahead. You can see the reflection of a flash in her eyes, the pain written—so raw and unadulterated—all over her face. Below the photo is a small plaque that reads Our Trials Don’t Define Us. After staring at the plaque for a few seconds, feeling the etching beneath her fingertips, Charlie spins around. “This is beautiful. I can’t believe I never knew this place existed.”
I shrug. “I figured you’d love it. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while. I just—“
I’m cut off when she suddenly falls into m
e, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she mumbles into my chest. “No one has ever understood the real me. But you, you do. You understand all of my ways. I don’t deserve you.”
I pull her back from me. “No, you don’t.” When her face falls, I smile and continue. “You deserve so much more, Charlie.” Her mouth parts as shock swims across her perfect face. I have so much to say to her, so much just sitting right there on the tip of my tongue, begging to be projected out into her world. But she’s not ready to hear it, so I’ll keep it locked inside until that day comes. “Let’s go sit. Those chili cheese fries are calling my name.”
Her shocked expression turns up into a smile as we make our way to the corner booth.
The waitress comes and we order our food and shakes. While waiting, we talk about everything, and we talk about nothing. Because that’s what happens when being together is easy, when she doesn’t let things get in the way, and she just relaxes. It’s these rare moments I treasure the most.
The waitress drops off our food, and we dig in.
“Mmm. This is so freaking good,” she says between bites. She puts another piece into her mouth. “How have I never heard of Lucy’s? And why have you just now brought me here? This should be like a weekly thing. And you were right. This shake… a complete life changer.”
I smile as she talks with her mouth full. She smiles back at me before taking a big gulp of her milkshake. That smile on her face, the ones that touch her eyes, is so rare that I’d do anything in this world to make it a common occurrence.
She rambles on about the fries and the shake and the pictures hanging on the wall. She talks so animatedly, but I’m so lost in just staring at her that I have no idea what exactly it is that she’s saying. She tucks her hair behind her ear every few minutes. It’s like a nervous tick, a habit that she does for comfort. When she smiles, she has this dimple that pops up directly underneath her eyebrow. It’s so tiny, it’s hardly noticeable, but I notice it. I notice everything about her. And right now, she’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. She’s not letting the weight of the world weigh her down, she’s forgotten about the problems of her past that are still haunting her. Everything she’s dealing with was left right outside that diner door. I might just bring her here every single day if it means she enjoys a single moment without letting guilt drag her down.
“So, yeah,” she states, “this place is amazing. These walls, their photos tell a million different stories, yet they all have one common meaning.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She looks around and sighs heavily. “To live.”
“To live,” I repeat. “Nice. Living in spite of everything life has thrown at you, yeah?”
She just nods her head, smiling softly. I reach across the booth, grabbing her hands in mine. My thumbs make a path across her knuckles as we stare at each other. She just stares into my eyes as I stare into her soul. I can see the fear of the unknown washing across her face. “Exactly,” she breathes out.
Life. I don’t really know what to make of it most days. I’m happy. So happy with Slayter that it’s just stupid. But underneath all of that happiness he brings to me, there is still this underlying blanket of sadness that I carry with me everywhere I go. As much as he brings light into my life, that darkness will never go away. It won’t ever go away until my memory comes back.
It sounds senseless, I’m sure, but that’s just the way it is for me. How can I move on when I have literally nothing to move on from? If I had something to grasp on to for the days I feel like I’m crumbling, it wouldn’t suffocate me so badly.
I am getting better, though. At least I think I am. I feel like the world doesn’t push down on my chest as often as she used to. So that’s progress, right?
I owe it all to Slayter.
Just the thought of him makes me smile.
I grab a handful of Chex Mix from Mom’s snack jar. Popping a few pieces in my mouth, I take a seat at the table. “So,” I say in the midst of chewing, “why did you insist I come over?”
“I’ve just missed you, honey. I haven’t seen you in weeks, and have hardly even heard from you.” She tucks some hair behind her ear, smiling at me like she’s got something up her sleeve.
“Hmm.” I pop some more Chex Mix into my mouth.
“I promise. That’s all,” she insists. “So, what have you been up to? How’s work? How’s Slayter?”
I choke at the mention of Slayter. I haven’t spoken about him to anyone, really. Of course Lizzie knows, she is married to his brother. That is not to my advantage.
“I really love how the house smells. Is that clean cotton?”
“Charlotte,” Mom chides, “you are ignoring my question.”
“Or is it that ocean breeze smell?”
“Charlotte Blake…”
I give in. “What about him?”
“Lizzie says you two have been dating.”
“She what?” Oh, I am going to kill her. She is D.E.A.D. when I see her again. “We are. But it’s nothing too serious.” It could be, I think to myself. It could be if I’d allow it to be. But I can’t open my heart up like that for fear it would only be ripped from me in an instant. I’m a lightning rod, virtually begging to be struck down on with a deadly volt at any given moment.
“Well… I think he’s a fine young man.” She takes a sip of her coffee before wiping her mouth with a napkin. I can tell that she wants to say more, but she doesn’t. She never does.
“Yeah, he’s pretty great. But Mom, don’t go off thinking you’ll be planning a wedding soon. That would never, ever happen. Like I said, not too serious.”
She looks at me over the top of her glasses and just smiles that knowing smile. I’m not fooling anyone. Not even myself. Everyone can see a change in me. I can see a change in me. He’s brought a spark into my life I never knew possible. He continues to try to get me to open up more. But, as much as I want to, I can’t give every part of myself to him. I can see it in his eyes that he would give anything if I let that last wall around me crumble, but I’ve convinced myself that I need it. I know I could love him if I just unlocked that piece of me, but I’m not emotionally ready to let that go. I’m not strong enough to give the world the chance to rip someone else from me. So I have to keep him at arm’s length. If I tell myself enough that I don’t already love him, I hope one day I’ll start to believe it. When you love, it makes everything complicated. There comes expectations and progression. Progression isn’t something I’m capable of, and expectations are something I always fail at.
“Okay, dear,” she relents, knowing that I am done with the topic at hand.
We talk a little bit more about my photography and about the vacation she and Dad have coming up next month to Crested Butte, Colorado. We talk about her charity event she does every year. She raises money to help families who can’t afford for their kids to play sports. They raised enough money last year so over one hundred and fifty kids could play baseball and softball, including buying their uniforms and all equipment. I decide to donate two photography sessions to put in the auction in hopes that it’ll help them reach their goal of two hundred kids next year.
Suddenly, Mom gets super quiet, smiling really big, her blue eyes shining from the sunlight beaming through the bay windows. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing dear. Could you get me a water out of the fridge?” She still has a crooked smile on her face.
“Sure.” I let the word drag out. I get up from the table to get her a water when I see my sister standing behind me. “Lizzie!” I squeal.
I close the distance between us in an instant and wrap my arms around my sister. Her dark hair tangles all in my face, but I don’t even care. God, I’ve missed her since she moved to California.
“Surprise.” She laughs.
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you’re home! Why are you home? I mean, I’m so excited, but it’s so soon. I wasn’t expecting you back until Thanksgiving.”
She
releases me. We both wipe the happy tears from our eyes. “Stet and I just wanted to see our family. We’re only here for two days, though. We both have to get back to work Tuesday.”
My excitement fades just a little at the short amount of time I’ll get with my sister. But any time is better than nothing, I suppose. “Where is Stetson?” I ask, not seeing him anywhere.
“I dropped him off at Slayter’s house a little while ago.”
I can’t help the butterflies that start fluttering around in my stomach at the mere mention of Slayter’s name. The thought of him, it just makes me… happy. In spite of all the sadness swirling inside, he’s my happy place. And happy is a feeling I’m slowly becoming accustomed to. “Oh. Okay.” I try to sound as indifferent as possible.
“They’ll be over in a bit. No worries.” She winks at me.
I roll my eyes, laughing. “That’s cool, I guess. It’ll be nice to see my brother-in-law.” And Slayter, I think to myself. I haven’t seen him in a few days. He’s been so busy with work and I have been so bogged down with sessions and editing that we haven’t been able to make time to see each other. My missing him is growing by the second.
We sit at the table with mom after we all say our hellos, chatting about Lizzie’s new job and their condo in California. Lizzie asks about me and what I’ve been up to, but I successfully dance around the subject of Slayter. I don’t feel the need to really talk about him to anyone. It’s not like I am keeping him a secret, but I feel the details surrounding us should remain sacred. They’re my moments of contentment, my sanctuary of hope and healing, and I don’t want to share that with anyone for fear once I let it out into the world, it won’t be my real anymore.
“I can’t wait until Stetson and Slayter get here. We have big plans for today.”
“Like what?” I ask.
She smiles. “You’ll see.”
“You know I hate surprises,” I joke.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t take the fun out of this for me. I just surprised you when I showed up. You seemed to love that.”