She wipes her face on her shirtsleeve and looks up at me. Her eyes, the mirror of my own, are childlike as they search my face for more answers. But I have nothing more to say.
“I know that,” she finally says, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I get close to someone and I just freeze up, like there’s nothing inside me to give. Like nothing I have will be enough. And then I make a mess of everything. And I don’t know how to do it any differently.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand and say, “I wish you could see what I see.”
She only nods and squeezes my hand back.
After a moment, she says, “I’m so sorry, Gwen. You’re taking care of me again and I should be taking care of you.”
“I actually feel normal for the first time in days,” I admit. “This is what we do, you tell me about the mess you got yourself into and I tell you what you should do. I almost forgot that I peed my pants.” I laugh, despite myself and then add, “I’m not going to break, Charley, so don’t treat me like it.”
She wipes her eyes again and says with a halfhearted smile, “Okay.”
I clear my throat, feeling like we could both use a break from all the revelations. “Now, can you grab me something to eat? Something full of fat and sugar? Like a donut... or maybe a cookie. I’ve been choking down Mom’s green smoothies and I can’t take it any more. The woman is obsessed with my diet.”
Charley looks up at me, attempting a real smile. Mission accomplished. “They’re not that bad. She has Olivia and Max drinking them too. But I’ll grab you a donut from earlier. Be right back,” she says as she slips off the bed and starts for the door.
“Hey Charley,” I call out after her.
She stops and turns back toward me. “Yeah?”
“Let’s not tell anyone about… ya know, the incident,” I say sheepishly.
“Just don’t piss me off,” she smirks and disappears through the door. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling drained suddenly from the whole conversation.
Chapter 33
Charley
I walk out of Gwen’s bedroom, my mind reeling. I couldn’t get away fast enough. Stepping into the hall, I slide my back down the wall and sit with my knees pulled into my chest. I can’t believe the flood of information that my mind, as well as my heart, is trying to process. Like the fact that my dad hit my mom. It’s hard to wrap my head around the idea of him as a violent man, even if the alcohol changed him into something he wasn’t. But more jarring is my mother’s silence. She’s never said a word. All the hurtful accusations that I have spewed at her over the years come back to me now full force and I can’t help but feel guilty, ashamed even. The image of my father that I held in my heart for so long is slowly crumbling, fading to nothing.
Lies. All of it.
And I am gripped by the notion that I could be more like my father than I care to admit. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I can’t love the way my mother loved my father or the way Gwen loves John. Maybe I’m incapable of love. I think back to the one time that I was sure I was in love, with Ben. But I screwed that up. And if it was really love that I felt for him, would I have purposefully hurt him?
I think about what Gwen said. Is it easier not to let anyone love you, to dodge the disappointment and expectations, to live alone? Is that what I’ve been doing? Choosing the easy road? Letting my fear choose my path? Although somewhere I think my subconscious believed this all along, my heart is just catching up.
I see my father again in my mind, or at least the fragmented man that remains of him, and I think about the choices he made and where those choices have led. And I feel sorry for him, an overwhelming pity taking root. Is that what I want? To be like him? I don’t want to be a coward. I don’t want to be alone. And then I think of my mother and the fact that she’s alone, that she never remarried. What does that say about her choice? Shutting us all out because she couldn’t deal. Was it easier to not deal with it all? And then it occurs to me. She did choose love, her love for her daughters, even though she was too broken to show it. It’s as if I see everything now through a different lens. As if I finally see my life’s portrait the way it is meant to be seen.
I grip my hair in my hands, wanting all the thoughts to stop. It’s almost too much to think about on top of almost losing Gwen. I stand and walk to the bathroom, where I splash cold water on my face and comb my fingers through my hair, securing it in a bun on top of my head. As I make my way down the stairs, the doorbell rings and I yell out, “I’ll get it.” I swing the door open and find Ben standing there, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Ben,” I say, stunned to see him in the flesh when his face was all I could see in my mind just a few minutes ago.
“Hey Charley. I wanted to check-in and see how Gwen’s doing. And to see how you’re doing...” He smiles and my heart catches. I step outside, into his personal space and look up at his clear blue eyes, taking me back in time to when I once saw my whole world in their depths. Something comes over me, nostalgia maybe, or maybe something more. That familiar need to erase what I’m feeling, to make it all stop. My heart is beating loudly in my chest as I shift my weight to my toes and raise up to meet his lips. I kiss him softly and then feel his hand in my hair as he pulls my face closer, parting his lips. And I lose myself for a moment, reveling in the euphoria that clouds all other thoughts. The heavy pull in my gut, flush of warmth, the budding arousal expanding...
“Charley?” I hear his voice, startling me, pulling me from whatever moment I was having with Ben. My heart sinks, clearing out the arousal in a quick beat. Ben and I step away from each other at the same time, leaving a clear view of Grey standing behind us, holding a bouquet of lilies – Gwen’s favorite – his jaw pulled taut and a murderous look in his eyes.
“Grey?” I take another step away from Ben, an awkward vibe snaking its way between us. As if to emphasize this, I hear Ben clear his throat.
“Is this you figuring it all out?” Grey asks with an injured tone that’s hard to miss.
“Grey...” I start to explain but truthfully I’m not sure what to say.
“Honestly, Charley, I don’t know what else I can do or say,” he scoffs, shaking his head from side to side. “Can you give these to Gwen?” He hands me the bouquet of lilies and I feel him almost flinch when his hand brushes mine. Our eyes meet for an instant but he tears his gaze from mine abruptly and walks away, his long strides carrying him out of sight before I can utter a word.
“Grey...” I call out as I start to run after him, not even sure what I’m going to say, but it doesn’t matter; I’m a moment too late. I stop when I see him reach his car and climb inside. He glances at me one last time before he backs out of the driveway and I can’t deny the sinking feeling in my gut. It was only a matter of time before he realized the truth, before he realized that there wasn’t anything about us that needed figuring out, so why do I feel sick to my stomach?
I blow out a breath, feeling my shoulders sag, and walk back to the porch. Ben is standing there, watching me. He runs his fingers over his lips and tilts his head to the side, waiting for me to say something.
I fold my arms across my chest, hugging myself in the cold. “I’m sorry...” I whisper, looking down at my feet. I don’t know what else to say.
Ben sighs and hangs his head. “Don’t be mad at me for saying this, but you haven’t changed a bit. All these years and you’re still avoiding the obvious.” I look up at Ben’s face as he says, “I can’t do this again. Give my best to Gwen.” I stand and watch Ben walk away, following the same path as Grey but without the urgency. I’m left surrounded by my own destruction, a swirling vortex of debris. It feels like the walls are closing in all around me. As if my chest is being squeezed so tight that it hurts to breathe, my entire world pressing into me from all sides. I’m losing everything. I’m losing Gwen. I’ve lost Grey. I don’t really have any close friends. I’ve held my mother at arm’s le
ngth nearly my whole life. And for what? So that I won’t ever feel the way I feel right now, in this moment. Utterly alone? All those years ago, I pushed Ben away so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of him leaving me, so that I wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. And yet, he still left and it still hurt like hell. Only I had no one to blame but myself.
I look up to keep the tears at bay. It’s the middle of the day but the sky is painted with dark clouds. I can’t go back in the house and face John or my mother or Gwen. I set the bouquet of flowers inside the door, grab my jacket off the coat rack and, after closing the door behind me, I walk down the driveway, toward nowhere, breathing in the fresh air, hoping to clear the shit-storm raging in my head.
I’ve wandered around for hours, the rain started a while ago, but it didn’t deter my need to keep walking. I’m soaked to the bone, my Converse sneakers full of water and still I keep walking until I find myself standing in front of Ben’s old house. I see his car parked in the driveway and recall him telling me at the bar that he moved back to Seaport to care for his mother after his dad passed away. My feet are pounding the pavement faster than my heart is hammering in my chest, but I suddenly have so much to say to him, so many things that I never got the chance to say. I feel as if I need to say them.
The sky has grown completely dark and the rain is beating down hard and steady. I step up to the porch, nearly jump when the censored light turns on and then I knock on the door. I wait but there’s no response. Just as I’m about to go, the door flies open and Ben stands there in jeans and a T-shirt, barefoot. My eyes are drawn to his bare skin, veins weaving around his sculpted arms like thick chords.
“Charley? What are you doing here? Did you walk here?” He glances behind me to the street before looking back at my face.
“I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry...” I start to choke up but the words pour out of me and I am unable to stop them. “I was scared. I was so scared. I loved you so much and I didn’t want you to leave... I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving.” Tears are making their way down my face and I feel my body begin to shake, either from the cold or my confession, I can’t be sure. Ben’s expression is unreadable but he just stands there, searching my face silently, with his hand on the door. “I never meant to hurt you,” I say, shaking my head from side to side. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just thought... I just thought... if I was with someone else it wouldn’t hurt as much. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. Hurting you... was the worst part and I was completely heartbroken when you left.”
I feel the rain dripping off me like the words falling from my mouth. I process them at the same time as Ben, not realizing until I said the words aloud how I felt.
“Come here,” he says as he pulls me inside and shuts the door. I am sobbing and shaking, a complete mess. But he pulls me into his arms and holds me close, my drenched clothing soaking his T-shirt.
“I know all this, Charley. And I’m not going to lie, you crushed me. It took me a long time to get over you, in some ways I’m still not over you. But once I got over my anger and my bruised ego, I realized why you did it.”
“I’m sorry...” I start to apologize again but he pulls back slightly and puts his fingers over my lips.
“It was a long time ago... water under the bridge,” he whispers. I look into his eyes through my tears and he stares into mine; we stay like this for a beat. I slowly lean in and press my lips to his and he kisses me for the briefest of moments before he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.
“As much as I’d love to see where this goes...” He smirks and whispers, “Trust me I’ve thought about being with you like this since I saw you in my exam room. But this really isn’t about me, Charley. It’s about him. I saw it in your eyes, the way you look at him. I know because you used to look at me that way. We both know you’re running away, but what are you afraid of this time, Charley? Because it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere.”
I can feel our hearts beating against each other as he holds me tightly. Every part of me is touching every part of him, our faces so close I can smell a faint trace of beer on his breath. It occurs to me how intimate this is, yet it feels safe and familiar. His eyes are open now and I stare into them, knowing that he’s right. About everything. Maybe I’ve always known that there was something different about Grey, something that set him apart from all the others, something that threatened my simple existence. Ben’s question lingers in the air like smoke after a fire. What am I afraid of?
“I don’t know,” I answer, my voice only a whisper.
His fingers trail down my cheek as he says, “I guess our time has passed, huh?”
I sniffle and say, “I guess so.”
“Charley, if you feel for him, the way I think you do, then don’t screw this up. We only get so many chances at love.”
I throw my head back slightly and smile. “God, when did you get so philosophical?” I groan.
“I’ve screwed up a few chances of my own, so I’m speaking from experience,” he says with a smile as he loosens his hold on me, putting more space between us.
“Is that so?” I ask, curious as to what he’s been doing all this time.
“Yeah, unfortunately.” He steps back and nods toward the living room down the hall. “Come in, I’ll get you a towel.”
I slip my wet shoes off and follow him down the hallway and take a seat on a bar stool at the kitchen island. I look around, a flood of memories rush me all at once. Being here with Ben and his parents. So envious of how close they all were, how wholesome they seemed. And feeling lucky to be a part of it. I loved them. Ben. His mom. His dad. Being in this room, remembering it all, I know without a doubt, I loved him. Ben hands me a towel and I squeeze the excess water from my hair.
“Is your mom here?” I ask, all at once longing to see her.
“No, she lives over at The Cliffs in assisted living. I moved her there last spring. I didn’t like leaving her here alone during my long shifts at the clinic.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.” I feel awful that I never visited all these years, but I was so ashamed of what I had done.
He shrugs. “Thanks, it’s not easy. Sometimes I wish I had a sibling to ease the load, ya know. Do you want some dry clothes?” Ben asks.
“Maybe just a ride back to Gwen’s, if that’s okay. I think I have a lot of things to sort out. It’s been a crazy day.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” he asks, followed quickly by, “As a friend, of course.”
“Maybe another time,” I say, seeing Ben for the good friend that he always was. My best friend, in fact. And maybe that’s why it hurt so much.
He nods and grabs his wallet and car keys off the counter. I follow him back toward the front door, slip on my soggy shoes, and step back into the rain. Ben drives me home in silence, although I meet his gaze each time he glances at me, like we’re speaking without saying anything at all.
When I reach Gwen’s door, it’s locked and I have to knock. I realize how late it is and instantly feel guilty that no one knows where I’ve been. John, eventually, opens the door.
“There you are,” is all he says as he steps aside and I walk though the doorway. And then he adds, “You’re soaked.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” I say. “Sorry that I snuck out without telling anyone.”
“We didn’t worry too much. We found the flowers with a card from Grey; it wasn’t much of a mystery. We knew you were with him.” John closes the door and turns the dead bolt into place. I hang my wet jacket on the coat rack, slip my shoes off and follow John into the kitchen.
“That’s not exactly how it went, but it doesn’t matter. I’m back,” I say and then ask, “How’s Gwen?”
“She’s sleeping. She seemed pretty wiped out today.” I think back to our conversation and how much that must have taken out of her. John pours a glass of red wine into an already used glass on the counter and then asks, “Do you
want some?”
“Sure,” I say and then tell him just a small glass. I’m freezing and need a hot shower.
He takes another wine glass from the cabinet and pours until it’s only half full, handing it to me. “Thanks,” I say and take a sip. I notice the lilies from Grey arranged in a vase on the kitchen table and my heart sinks.
“I’m not even going to ask what you’ve been doing,” John says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes at him. “Trust me, it’s not what you think.” I take another sip of my wine. “Are you doing okay, John?”
He sighs and then says, “I think so. I just wish she would let me help her more. I feel like I have to constantly ask her if she needs something and I can tell that she’s getting annoyed but I don’t know what else to do.” He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a big gulp, and then sets it down on the counter.
“I know what you mean. Give her some time, John, she’ll come around. You and I both know that Gwen is not good with giving up control.”
“Yeah, I know. This is just all so... so fucked up,” he says, shaking his head as he rakes his hand through his hair. He folds his arms across his chest and leans back against the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry, John. It isn’t fair.”
We both stand in silence sipping our wine until I drain the last sip and say, “I’m going to shower and turn in for the night.” And then I ask, “Where’s my mom?”
“She went to bed a while ago,” he says.
“Okay, well goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” John says and I head upstairs. I’m sleeping on an inflatable mattress in the office while my mother is sleeping in the downstairs guest room. It’s strange to think of us all under the same roof again and yet comforting at the same time. I peek into Gwen’s room at the end of the hall and my hand instantly goes to my heart as I take in the scene. Gwen is lying on her back, fast asleep with Max snuggled in on her left side and Olivia sleeping on her right, Gwen’s arms are wrapped around them both. Tears spring to my eyes as I draw in a breath and release it, easing the knot in my chest. All I can think is that there is more love in this house than I have ever known.
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