by Jahn, Amalie
We walked silently through the woods along a pine needle path fraught with animal holes and uprooted trees. Our breath was visible and the diffused starlight was our only guide. I lost my footing several times on rocks and roots and was thankful for Charlie’s masterful reflexes, which prevented me from falling face first onto the ground.
As we strolled along, hand in hand, I could not help but wonder who had walked the path with Charlie during the previous timelines. I pushed the thought out of my mind, not only because I was uncomfortable thinking about Charlie in pursuit of another girl, but also because I was painfully aware that I was altering yet another person’s life with my journey. The ramifications of that were not lost on me. And still, I traveled on.
The light of the bonfire shone brightly and its reflection in the lake lit the final stretch of the path. I heard voices as we approached the clearing and, as we ventured closer, the warmth of the fire drew us both into the circle of log benches surrounding the blaze. Charlie was still holding firmly to my hand, and I wondered if he had told anyone about me. It was a question that would soon be answered.
A tall, blond boy with a tight crew cut came running from the other side of the circle and I easily recognized him from the photo of Charlie in the cafeteria on his school’s website. He stopped next to Charlie and punched him jovially in the shoulder.
“S’up Chuck,” he laughed, not taking his eyes off me. “Is this her?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and punched him back. “Marshall, this is Brooke. Brooke… Marshall.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, extending my free hand towards Marshall.
“You too,” he replied, grasping my hand and shaking it vigorously. Without letting go he added, to Charlie, “You’re right Bro, she’s hot.”
The heat from the fire was nothing compared to the crimson that spread across my cheeks. Unable to look at either of them, I quickly focused my attention on my shoes. Charlie Johnson told someone I was hot. It was more than I could allow myself to believe.
“What’s everybody doing?” asked Charlie in an attempt to recover, his voice strained with embarrassment.
“Bill has his guitar. Taylor brought fried chicken and s’mores stuff I think. Courtney and Travis just went for a walk around the lake, so I doubt we’ll see them for a while. The rest of us are just hanging. Carson was just telling everyone about the brand new SUV his dad’s promised him for his birthday, but I think he’s full of it. Come on, you have to introduce your girl around,” Marshall added as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the small crowd of people sitting opposite the lake.
I smiled at Charlie as Marshall whisked me away, giving him a look that I hoped conveyed I was fine with Marshall’s enthusiasm. Charlie shook his head pitifully and rolled his eyes, like a parent saddled with an unruly toddler, and fell in step behind us.
True to his word, I had a wonderful time with Charlie’s friends and even found I could tolerate Carson, despite the very large chip he wore on his shoulder. We made s’mores and I ended up a sticky mess, as I was unable to perfect the art of toasting a marshmallow without catching it on fire. Marshall and Charlie delighted in watching me burn dozens of marshmallows into charred crisps unfit for human consumption. Bill took requests on his guitar and we sang and danced together well into the night.
Courtney and Travis did eventually return from their evening stroll and Courtney seemed delighted that Charlie had invited me to join everyone.
“Charlie and I met in second grade,” Courtney told me as we sat together on a log in front of the fire. “We were in the same classes all through elementary school and even managed to take some of the same classes in middle school. But don’t worry,” she added, giving me a conspiratorial wink, “Charlie is like a brother to me. I’ve tried over the years to set him up with some of my friends and I’ve watched him venture out on his own. But honestly, there’s never been a single girl Charlie’s really been interested in. You’d think, looking like he does, that the girls would be lining up to date him, but Charlie has been surprisingly unlucky in love.”
I don’t know what compelled Courtney to share her secrets about Charlie, but it was reassuring to know that Charlie and I were kindred spirits with regard to love. She hugged me warmly at the end of the evening, whispering that she thought I was perfect for Charlie and she looked forward to hanging out again.
Charlie chatted enthusiastically on the ride back to my house. Perhaps it was the relief that his friends had accepted me or that I had enjoyed myself, but it seemed as though a weight had been lifted from him since our first drive together earlier in the evening. However, as we approached my house, he suddenly became quiet. For several moments, we sat in my driveway with the engine running, ensuring that the heater would continue to blow. Neither one of us spoke for a minute or so as I fumbled awkwardly with the zipper of my coat. As I finally pulled it up, I felt Charlie’s fingers timidly touching my cheek. I closed my eyes, believing that I was certainly dreaming. Gently, he placed his hand under my chin and turned my face so that we were only inches apart. I opened my eyes and saw my joy reflected in his.
“Brooke,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, although I felt immediately that I should have been thanking him instead.
“Do you think you’d like to go out again sometime?” he asked, he voice wavering as he finished.
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
My mind raced. “Tomorrow is Sunday. We have church and family dinner.” I paused, and before I realized what I was saying continued, “Do you want to come over for dinner?”
“With your family?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Yes,” he replied, sounding surprised at his own response.
“Okay. We eat at two. I think Mom’s making pot roast. Do you like pot roast?” I asked.
“I do now,” he replied. “And Brooke?”
“Yes?”
He quickly closed the space between us and instinctively I met his lips with my own. The electricity of his touch paled in comparison to the magic that I felt as the softness of his lips pressed against mine. The rest of the world melted away. No Mother. No Father. No Branson. Just Charlie and me in a car in my driveway.
And then, a fleeting thought passed through my mind and the moment was over. If Branson had never died, I would have never taken my trip, and I would have never even met Charlie. The kiss between us would never have occurred. Lost within my own contemplations, I pulled away. Charlie opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He asked.
“No. Yes. I’m fine,” I answered, “it’s just…”
“Too much, too soon,” he finished.
“No! Not at all! It’s just… it’s complicated.”
“Is there someone else?” he asked, immediately dejected.
“No, of course not.” I paused, considering my words carefully. “It’s complicated because I guess I feel like I don’t belong here. It’s kind of a gift that I’ve even gotten to meet you. I’m feeling humbled. And blessed.” I looked into his face, searching for something in his eyes that he understood.
He was silent for a moment. Finally he spoke, cradling my face in his hands. “Who says that?” he asked, laughter playing in his voice.
“Who says what?”
“Who says they feel ‘blessed’ to be with someone?” he explained smiling broadly.
I pulled away, turning from him, unable to continue the exchange knowing he was mocking me.
“I have to go,” I said shortly, reaching for the door handle.
In an instant, his hand was on my shoulder. “No, Brooke, wait. I’m not making fun you. I’m… amazed. Impressed. Blessed,” he added.
Still gripping the handle, I turned again to look at him. Genuine sincerity painted his face.
“It’s just that I’ve never met someone who would say that ab
out me. It’s… refreshing,” he added. “There’s something special about you Brooke. I knew the minute I saw you from across the vacant lot yesterday running around with Melody. You’re different from the other girls. It’s almost as if you are this young, carefree person with an old soul trapped inside. How does that happen?” he wondered aloud, brushing a lock of hair from in front of my eyes.
In the few hours he had known me, Charlie Johnson already had me pegged. It was as if he knew that something was wrong with me. That I did not belong there, in that place and time. My soul was old there. I had already lived that portion of my life twice before. Could he feel that what was transpiring between us was not what was meant to be? That perhaps we were never to have met at all?
In that moment, I wanted desperately to tell Charlie everything. About Branson’s death. About my trips. About my ultimate purpose for being there and how the happiness I was finding with him felt stolen. But knowing fully the ramification of what would happen if I did, I chose to remain silent. After some time, I spoke.
“Things have happened to me. In my past. I’ve lived through some stuff. Hard things. And I know about pain. A lot about pain. So when I find joy, I have just learned to hold on to it, you know? Because it can go away fast.” I paused, watching for him to react. He waited for me to continue. “I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t really. But I think it’s all going to be okay now and well, I’m glad you are here,” I finished solemnly.
“Me too,” he said.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow, here, at two?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied.
Charlie removed his hands from my face and sat back in his seat. I pulled on the handle and the door swung slowly open. I stepped out into the bitter cold and it startled me, as if I was waking from a dream. I turned before closing the door and leaned my head back into the interior of the car.
“Bye Charlie,” I said.
“See ya,” he said, smiling warmly.
I closed the door and ran down the driveway, across the sidewalk to the back kitchen door. The exterior light was on and the glow of the light from above the kitchen table alerted me to the fact that someone was still awake inside. I turned again to the car in the driveway, still idling, waiting. I realized that he was watching to make sure I was able to get into the house safely. I opened the door and waved to let him know I was in. Now it was my turn to linger as I watched him carefully back out of the driveway and disappear into the night.
Once inside, I peeled off the layers that had protected me from the cold of the night and tiptoed into the family room toward the stairs. My mother was asleep on the sofa, draped in an afghan my grandmother had knitted decades before. Sensing my arrival, she stirred, and then, smiling, motioned for me to sit beside her.
“I tried to wait up. Guess I’m not as young as I used to be,” she laughed, pulling at the corners of her eyes. “How was your night?”
“It was nice. He’s great Mom. I invited him to dinner tomorrow. I hope that’s okay.”
“He must be really nice,” she teased. She patted me on the leg, “Sure honey, of course, he can come. But now, you need to get to bed, and I do too. I’ll see you in the morning… we’ll go to late church,” she said winking.
“Okay. Night Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too my Babbling Brooke.”
It had been ages since she had called me that. I had earned the moniker as a toddler. One who never shut up. Everyone called me “Babbling Brooke” for many years, but now, the right was reserved solely for my mother. I smiled and headed up the stairs, contemplating the beauty that was my life.
As I readied myself for bed, I heard a knocking sound. As we shared a common bedroom wall, Branson and I would often use code, a series of taps and pauses, to communicate back and forth as children. Tonight the tapping alerted me to the fact that he was still awake. I tapped back to let him know he was welcome to come in.
Branson appeared at my door and happily flung himself across my bed. As usual, he was dressed for the night in a pair of flannel pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. He was also wearing heavy socks. I had never seen him go to bed without them on, even in the summer.
“Well?” he said, hands folded under his chin and eyelashes fluttering in an attempt at coyness.
“Well what, Mr. Nosey?” I replied.
“Come on Sis! It’s a big deal! How many boys have you turned down over the years? Then this guy comes along out of nowhere and BAM, it’s love at first sight?”
“Hardly,” I responded. “There haven’t been that many guys who’ve asked me out and I’d hardly say this is love at first sight. You are an egregious exaggerator,” I said shaking my finger at him.
“Really Sis? Were you not in the same room I was in when he came to pick you up tonight? Did you not see how he lit up like the flippin’ Fourth of July when you came downstairs?”
The blush that spread across my cheeks was irrepressible. Had Branson been watching us from the top of the stairs?
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said quietly.
“Don’t be that way,” Branson said, sitting himself up on the edge of the bed beside me. “I’m glad you met this guy. He seems nice. You seem happy.”
“I feel happy,” I replied, acknowledging the reality of the statement. “You think he likes me for real?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s coming to dinner tomorrow after church.”
“Seriously?” Branson asked, his head tilted skeptically.
“Seriously.”
Branson shook his head, feigning utter disbelief. “Yeah, he doesn’t like you at all. Because people who are mildly interested agree to dinner with parents on the second date. You are a total nut job, as usual Sis,” he concluded.
I punched him hard in the arm. “That’s for being insensitive. Now get out of here. It’s late and I’m tired.”
“Better get your beauty sleep for lover boy tomorrow,” he teased.
“Get out!” I exclaimed, throwing my pillow at his head as he sprinted for the door.
“Night, Sis,” he called over his shoulder.
“Goodnight Branson,” I replied, too thrilled with the events of the past 48 hours of my life to be genuinely upset at him. I assumed that as keyed up as I was that I would be unable to fall asleep quickly, but peaceful slumber was soon upon me, and with it, another day.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I awoke in the morning to glimmering sunlight streaming through my window, as if Mother Nature was reflecting the joy I felt bursting from every cell of my body.
I prepared for the onslaught of questioning that was sure to greet me at the breakfast table, but my family was surprisingly tight lipped. Mother was going on about my father starting seedlings for our spring garden and Branson’s nose was stuck in a particularly large book about the Spanish inquisition. I poured myself a cup of orange juice and sat down with a banana. After finishing the banana, I prepared an English muffin complete with butter and strawberry jam, and still no one said anything. Finally, as I cleared my dishes and headed back upstairs, my father broke off his conversation with Mom to call me back into the room.
“Mom tells me Charlie will be joining us for dinner this afternoon,” he stated, not allowing his intonation to betray how he felt about the turn of events.
“She said it was okay,” I countered defensively.
“No, it’s fine. I’d like to get to know this young man a little more,” he continued, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
“Please be nice, Daddy,” I moaned. “Don’t scare him away. Please!”
“Would I do that?” he responded.
“Yes!” my mother and Branson chimed in simultaneously.
“Please Daddy?” I continued begging.
“I will make sure your father is on his best behavior, if he knows what’s good for him,” my mother said, smiling at my father.
The high-pitched jingle of my phone interrupt
ed the conversation. I stood frozen in place, not knowing if I was excused from the discussion. By the third ring, my father said, “It’s probably him, perhaps you should answer it!”
I ran for my phone but by the time I answered it, a missed call was registered on the screen. It had been Sarah, likely calling for the juicy details of my outing with Charlie. I quickly returned her call and gave her the Cliff’s Notes version of the evening as I prepared myself for church. As I was coming to the end of my summary, the call waiting on the phone alerted me that Charlie was on the other line. I apologized and said a quick goodbye to an understanding Sarah before switching over to Charlie’s call.
The sound of his voice on the other end of the line still seemed unreal to me.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I was just checking to make sure that your folks said that it was okay if I came over for dinner this afternoon.”
“Yes. They said it was fine,” I assured him. “They are excited to meet you.”
“Oh. Okay. Good,” he said.
“Good,” I said.
There was a long pause.
“And one more thing Brooke.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Well, I guess I just wanted to hear your voice again this morning. You know… make sure you were still real,” he said. “Is that totally weird?”
“Totally weird,” I replied. “But I totally get it.”
“Really? I feel like something magical is happening. And what’s worse, I don’t feel stupid for saying that out loud to you,” Charlie said. “You can’t let this side of me get out though, or all the ladies will be asking me over for dinner with their parents.”