Big cities, bigger stories. Large continents, even larger human interest stories. But at the heart of each of those broader pieces, Roman realized he could find the essence of people—their ties to each other, their community, their land. Just like the people of Yorkshire Falls.
When Roman wrote a news piece—whether he was driving home the inequities of poverty or famine, the brutal truth of ethnic cleansing in foreign lands, or the need for a variance or new zoning laws so someone with degenerative arthritis could own a pet and walk him without pain—the stories centered on people and what they needed and did to survive.
As a journalist and as a man, the objective view had been easier for Roman, and so he’d chosen to tackle the outside world while putting up blocks against his feelings for those people and stories back home. Because home represented Roman’s greatest fear—pain, rejection, loss. The kind he’d seen his mother experience.
The kind he was experiencing now because of what he’d done to Charlotte. This story was a catharsis. He’d never sell it, but he’d always have it as proof of what his mother had told him: If you haven’t loved, you haven’t lived. For all his extensive traveling and experience, Roman realized, he hadn’t really lived. Now, how to convince Charlotte?
After trying the shop, he’d stopped in Norman’s, who said he’d packed a sandwich and sent Charlotte on her way. Without trying her apartment first, gut instinct told Roman exactly where to find her. He never discounted his gut.
It was that same gut feeling that had insisted should Charlotte find out about the coin toss, he’d be in deep shit, and he’d been right. Same gut that now let him know she’d never get out of his system completely. He knew that was correct as well. He rounded the corner that led to the back of her apartment.
The sun shone low in the sky. In broad daylight, he knew he was risking being seen lurking around her apartment. He didn’t care. He wanted to make sure she was okay, though he knew better than to try to talk reason with her so soon.
He stood in the shadow of the trees and looked up at her sitting on the fire escape. Alone by choice, not answering her doorbell or phone. He shook his head, hating that he’d caused her pain. Stray tendrils of hair escaped the confinement of her ponytail and blew around her pale face. She was reverently touching the pages of a book. He figured it was one of her damn travelogues. She was a dreamer and longed for things she thought were out of reach. Travel. Excitement. Her father. And Roman.
She had the nerve to start a cosmopolitan business in a sleepy upstate town, but lacked the guts to take a gamble on life. On him.
What if reality is a disappointment? she’d asked when he’d questioned her about her books, her dreams. He hadn’t answered her then, so certain he could make her fantasies come true. But a weekend getaway was a far cry from fulfilling a lifelong dream. He’d been sure he could do both.
Right now he wanted to kick himself in the ass for being so damn arrogant, so sure of himself, when Charlotte’s feelings were at stake. Thanks to her father, Charlotte expected life to let her down. Instead of proving her wrong, Roman had fulfilled every negative expectation she’d had of men.
He muttered a curse. One last glance, and he headed on home.
Raina gathered her purse and waited as Dr. Leslie Gaines jotted notes in her chart. With Raina seeing Eric outside of work, she had begun using Dr. Gaines as her primary doctor. She had two reasons. She didn’t want to put Eric in the uncomfortable position of lying to her sons, and she wanted some mystery to remain for them as a couple. Silly as it sounded. If he listened to her chest with a stethoscope and viewed her as a patient through his doctor’s eyes, how could he look at her as a man would a woman?
“So your cardiogram is fine, no change.” Dr. Gaines flipped the manila folder closed. “You’re healthy, Raina. All I can say is keep up the exercise and watch the rich food.”
“Yes, Doctor.” But Raina knew the words were easy. Keeping up the charade of sickness with her boys was not. Though her little fraud, as she’d begun to think about it, still gave her fits of guilt, she believed in her cause. She wanted her boys settled and happy with families of their own.
Dr. Gaines smiled. “I wish all my patients were so cooperative.”
Raina merely nodded in return. “Thanks for everything.” She left the office without seeing Eric. She preferred to save that treat for later, when the subject of her “illness” couldn’t cause an argument.
With Roman spending the day at the paper with Chase, and Rick on duty, Raina headed straight for home. She changed into sweatpants for a quick treadmill run. Only a twenty-year-old or Superman could keep up this routine without getting caught. As she began her brisk walk, she kept one eye trained out the basement window onto the driveway in case her sons came home early. She’d flop onto the couch quickly if they did.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped off the treadmill and took a quick shower, the relief at not being caught overwhelming. By the time she finished and had a quick bite to eat, she was ready to tackle her primary concern.
Roman’s love life.
The road to romance had taken a dangerous detour with Roman’s sour mood and sudden refusal to discuss anything related to Charlotte. He’d deal with his own problems, he said. But as his mother, Raina had changed his diapers, dried the tears he’d been embarrassed to shed, and she knew his every expression. No matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, she read them anyway. And her baby boy was hurting.
This problem with Charlotte, whatever it was, couldn’t be anything more than a bump on the road. No romance ran smooth, after all. Look at the good she’d done her youngest son so far; her “illness” had brought Roman home and had kept him in Yorkshire Falls, where he’d more than reacquainted himself with his first love. A little nudge, and they’d be back together in no time.
Hoping nobody noticed she’d been in town twice today and reported back to the boys, Raina walked into Charlotte’s Attic later that afternoon. Thank goodness the shop appeared empty. “Hello?”
“Be right there,” Charlotte’s lilting voice called from the back of the store.
“Take your time.” Raina walked over to the lingerie section and fingered a beautiful, pure silk Natori gown with a matching robe.
“It suits you,” Charlotte said, coming up behind her. “The light ivory will bring out the green in your eyes.”
Raina turned and faced the raven-haired beauty, who, like her son, had pain lurking in the depths of her soul. “I’m not sure I belong in something so white.”
Charlotte smiled. “Light, not white. It’s more of an antiquey color. Nothing wrong with indulging. There’s no significance attached to hue. That’s an old-fashioned premise, I assure you.” She folded her arms across the metal rack. “I can see how much you want this. You’re still fingering the lace edge.”
“Caught in the act.” Raina laughed. “Okay, you can package this up for me.” She wondered if it would sit in the drawer or if—
“I’m glad to see you feeling well enough to be out and about.”
Charlotte cut off Raina’s thoughts, and not a moment too soon. Raina was too afraid to even think about such intimacies. It had been so long since anyone had seen her that way.
“I know I’m supposed to take it easy, but I needed to come here.” For reasons Raina hadn’t yet divulged. “Besides, isn’t shopping supposed to be a stress reliever?”
Charlotte laughed. “If you say so.” She perused the rack, flipping through the long silken garments. The young woman remembered each customer’s size without having to ask again, something that impressed Raina from the first. Every customer who entered the shop received personal treatment from Charlotte or Beth, and each customer left with the feeling that she was the most important customer Charlotte had. Her business was thriving and she’d earned the professional success.
She deserved private success as well. Raina couldn’t stand to see two people so obviously in love let themselves drift apart. As Charlotte unhooke
d the hanger and walked over to the register, Raina hadn’t yet decided whether or how to broach the subject.
“Anything else I can get you?” Charlotte asked with a strained smile.
Talk about an opening! Raina shook her head. Surely this was a sign that questioning Charlotte was okay. Roman wouldn’t hold it against her. Not once he was happily settled with Charlotte by his side. Raina leaned forward on the counter. “You can tell me why you look so unhappy.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Charlotte immediately began fussing with the lingerie, ripping off the bottom of the price tag and wrapping the luxurious silk in light pink tissue paper.
Raina placed a stilling hand over hers. “I think you do. Roman’s as miserable as you.”
“Not possible.” Charlotte began tabulating the bill. “One hundred and fifteen dollars and ninety-three cents.”
Whipping her credit card out of her purse, Raina placed it on the counter. “I assure you it’s very possible. I know my son. He’s hurting.”
Charlotte slid the card through the register and went through the charging process. “I’m not certain there’s anything you can do to make it better for him or me. You should leave it alone.”
Raina swallowed hard. Something in Charlotte’s tone warned Raina to stop now, but she couldn’t. “I can’t.”
For the first time since Raina had brought up the subject, Charlotte met her gaze. “Because you feel responsible?” the younger woman asked softly. With no malice, but with the certainty of someone who knew everything.
Even if Raina did not. Her heart began a thready beat, one caused by apprehension and anxiety. “Why should I feel responsible?” she asked warily.
“You really don’t know, do you?” Charlotte shook her head, abandoned her rigid stance, and walked around to where Raina stood. “Come sit.”
Raina followed into Charlotte’s office, wondering how this conversation had become about her and not Roman and Charlotte’s romance.
“When you got sick, your sons were worried.”
Raina lowered her eyes, unable to meet Charlotte’s sincere and concerned gaze, that darn guilt resurfacing once more.
“And together they decided to give you your fondest, dearest wish.”
“Which is?” Raina asked, unsure what Charlotte meant.
“Grandchildren, of course.”
“Oh!” Raina expressed a sigh of relief at Charlotte’s obviously mistaken belief. She waved her hand in the air. “No way would my boys want to give me grandchildren, no matter how much I may wish otherwise.”
“You’re right. They didn’t want to. But they felt they had to.” Charlotte raised her eyes and met Raina’s gaze. “They flipped a coin. Loser would ante up—get married and have a baby. Roman lost.” She shrugged, but the pain floated in the air, hovering between them, obvious and tangible. “I was the nearest candidate.”
Outrage filled Raina, but her heart clenched, twisting with more than guilt. She’d meant to coerce her boys into their own happily ever after, but she’d never meant for people to get hurt in the process. “Charlotte, you don’t believe Roman chose you because he lost a coin toss. You two had a history, after all.”
Charlotte glanced away. “Roman admitted to losing the coin toss. The rest is painfully obvious.”
“But he didn’t choose you because you were the nearest candidate!” Raina addressed Charlotte’s hurt first. She’d deal with the coin toss and her role in it later. Oh, yes, she would deal with her boys.
She’d lived under the illusion that she and John had set the example of a happy family and a good, loving marriage. Obviously not, but what in heaven’s name had happened to convince her boys otherwise? True, Rick had that painful fiasco caused by his good-natured attempt to help, but the right woman would break through the walls he’d put up since. And Roman—Raina remembered her youngest saying that he thought she’d given up on life. Had that been enough to scare him off marriage forever?
“I really don’t know why Roman chose me, now, do I?” Charlotte’s voice shook with uncertainty. A good omen, Raina hoped.
“I think you know more than you want to admit.” Raina leaned forward and squeezed Charlotte’s hand. “I realize I’m probably the last person you want advice from, but please let me say one thing.”
Charlotte inclined her head. “I don’t blame you, Raina.”
Perhaps the young woman should. Maybe then she and Roman wouldn’t be miserable. “If you’ve found true love, don’t let anything stand in your way. One day, just twenty-four hours, could be one day lost in a lifetime that’s way too short.”
Raina thought she heard a strangled sound come from Charlotte, and she rose quickly, not wanting to intrude a minute longer. Besides, she needed to be alone to deal with herself and decide what she intended to do about the pain and havoc she hadn’t meant to cause.
“Take care.” Leaving Charlotte sitting in silence, Raina walked out. She exited the store and stepped into the sunshine, feeling anything but warm and happy. She was at a complete loss, not knowing how to fix things.
Considering what a disaster her great plan had been so far, she was probably better off staying out of everyone’s lives and concentrating on living her own. Eric had been right all along, but he wouldn’t be pleased to know Raina’s enlightenment had come at everyone else’s expense.
Still, as much as she’d like to withdraw and take the hands-off route, she and her sons had some serious business to discuss. She sighed. What happened to Roman and Charlotte after that was anyone’s guess.
* * *
Roman pounded nails into the garage shelving. If he was going to stick around, he might as well make himself useful. For the most part, Chase and Rick handled the upkeep on the house, but when he was home, Roman liked to do his share. And right now, the ability to pound a hammer was a damn good way to release frustration.
Charlotte hadn’t called. Hadn’t returned his calls, to be accurate. At this point he wasn’t sure the distinction mattered.
He raised the hammer and swung at the same moment his mother’s shrill voice reached his ears. “Front and center, Roman.”
The hammer smacked his fingers dead-on. “Son of a bitch.” He stalked out of the garage, shaking his hand to ease the throbbing pain. He met his mother on the driveway, where she was pacing back and forth. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Everything. And as much as I blame myself, I still need answers.”
He wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you look upset and it can’t be good for your heart.”
“Forget my heart. It’s yours I’m worried about. A coin toss? Loser gets married and has children? What in heaven’s name did your father and I do wrong that turned you boys against marriage?” His mother’s hazel eyes filled with moisture.
“Dammit, Mom, don’t cry.” He was a sucker for her tears. Always had been, which he thought now was a partial answer to her question. “Who told you?” He put an arm around her and led her to the patio chairs out back.
She narrowed her gaze. “That’s not the point, is it? Now answer me.”
“I don’t want you to end up back in the hospital. That’s the point.”
“It won’t happen. Now talk.”
He let out a groan but noticed she seemed stronger than she’d been since his arrival back home.
“The coin toss, Roman. I’m waiting,” she said when he didn’t respond fast enough for her. She tapped one foot against the patio.
He shrugged. “What can I say? It seemed like the best solution at the time.”
“Idiots. I raised idiots.” She rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Nix that. I just raised real men.”
She was right. He was a typical man, and as a proud, card-carrying member of the species, he wasn’t comfortable discussing his feelings or emotions. But he owed it to the woman who raised him the best she could on her own to explain. He had a hunch he’d have to do the same with Char
lotte—if he wanted a second chance.
And he did.
“You and I started talking about this the other day.” Roman leaned forward in his seat. “I was eleven when Dad died. And watching you in so much pain, well, I realized this trip home, it made me want to withdraw from anything that close to me. Being a journalist, by nature of the job, let me remain detached. I couldn’t be detached here at home. Not with you and not with Charlotte.”
Raina expelled some of the obvious anger, fears, and frustration with one long breath. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“You can’t hold yourself responsible for fate. Or someone else’s reaction to it.”
She met his gaze. “You really don’t understand.”
“I do. And I love you for your concern, but don’t stress over it.” He rose. “If you do, I’ll report straight back to your doctor.” Eric or his associate would give his mother a good talking-to if she risked her health in any way.
Roman narrowed his gaze and took a good look at his mother. Dark rings circled her eyes, little makeup coated her cheeks. She’d put less time into her appearance. Because she tired more easily? he wondered. Worry about him and Charlotte couldn’t help the situation and he tried to set her mind at ease. “You’ve done your job incredibly well. Chase, Rick, and I can take care of ourselves. I promise.” He brushed a kiss over her cheek.
She stood and walked along with him back to the garage. “I love you, son.”
“Same here, Mom. You’ve got a good heart and—”
“Roman, speaking of my heart …”
He shook his head. “No more talk,” he said in a drill-sergeant, no-nonsense tone. “I want you upstairs and resting. Draw the shades and take a nap. Watch Oprah. Something, anything as long as you’re off your feet and not overthinking about your sons.”
“Is it me or did you put a fast end to this conversation about your stupid coin toss?”
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