I needed you to know this and to understand why I haven’t been in touch sooner. If not me, then at least give Charlie a chance.
Love,
Celeste
When Rina was finished she handed Molly a box of tissues from the bedside table. She waited until Molly had a chance to wipe her eyes and blow her nose before saying anything. “Maybe you should talk to him. Maybe you should talk to both of them.”
Molly wished she could. “I don’t know how.”
She got up and walked over to the window. Staring out at the smoggy city below, she already missed the snowcapped mountains.
26
The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end.
—Benjamin Disraeli
Charlie rapped the knocker three times and stepped back on the walkway, waiting for someone to answer. He didn’t need a sign telling him “buzzer broken” to know that it didn’t work. Not that he ever knocked or rang, since the door was never locked, except on Wednesdays, and it only mattered if he was the first one home after the cleaning lady left.
But for now it wasn’t his house.
It was Molly’s.
They weren’t supposed to be back for almost another week, but his moms had finished their jobs. There was nothing keeping them in L.A., and they wanted to do this for Charlie. They were even waiting at a neighbor’s so that he could see Molly alone, quietly, before they all descended on them.
Ron’s Prius was parked in the driveway, which was a good sign. It had been a couple of minutes, so Charlie knocked again, louder this time, so that it would be heard even from the backyard.
“Coming!” a voice he recognized as Ron’s called out. “Hi, can I help you?” He stood in the doorway, waiting for Charlie to say something, like he was a door-to-door salesman.
Ron was taller and thinner than Charlie had expected from his low, gruff voice. “I’m Charlie.”
“Oh, I see.” His response hung out there like a wet towel, like Ron already knew that Molly wouldn’t want to see him. Charlie desperately wanted to look up at the window to his room, hoping that he’d get a glimpse of her peering out from behind the curtains, but Ron was staring right at him.
“I’m sorry I just showed up like this,” he started to explain, trying to maintain hope a little longer. “It’s just that I really wanted a chance to explain everything to Molly in person.”
Ron sighed. “I seem to always be the bearer of bad news. You just missed her. She and her mother left for L.A. yesterday.”
It took a second for it to register that she wasn’t there. “Wait, that means…she got an interview?”
“That’s right, she did.” Ron smiled and considered Charlie for a moment before opening the door wider. “Why don’t you come in? It’s your house.”
As weird as it felt knocking on his own front door, it was even stranger being invited into his home by someone he’d never met before. The house usually felt empty whenever they returned from a long vacation, like time had stood still while they were away. Everything was always exactly where they had left it, the house bearing witness to the stillness. But this time life had gone on inside despite their absence. Time hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had sped up, and he could feel the difference just walking through the front door.
“My whole family’s back. We decided to come home early. They’re waiting at the Wilsons’ down the street,” Charlie explained.
“Tell them to come over,” Ron said.
• • •
After dinner, Charlie went upstairs. The door to his room was open, and he stood at the entrance. It looked the same from that distance, everything seemingly as he left it, down to the Star Wars sheets, which were back on his bed.
He went over to the window to open the shades, revealing, in moonlit pools of light, the mountain peaks he loved so much. He looked down at the ledge, half-expecting Cheese to be sitting there waiting for him.
He turned on the lights and inspected the room, looking not for signs of misplaced items but for traces of Molly. Whereas the rest of the house brimmed with signs that other people had been staying there, his room was left empty and devoid of life. He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed. Pulling the sheets to his nose, he could smell Molly all over them, confirmation that she had once slept there. It was a fresh, subtle scent, like morning dew.
He stared up at the glowing galaxy on his ceiling, another sign that Molly had been there. Perhaps the only thing left to remind him of her.
27
There is no instinct like that of the heart.
—Lord Byron
“How’d it go?” Her mother leaped up from her seat in the waiting room and ran over to Molly as she came out the door. “You’ve been in there for almost two hours. Everyone else is gone.”
“Good…I mean great,” Molly said, still a little bewildered. “There were three people from her company asking me all sorts of questions, and I think they liked my answers, because at the end they took me to see Cynthia in her studio. It was unbelievable. She was right in the middle of designing the most gorgeous dress, and she stopped to talk to me for almost twenty minutes about how much she liked my portfolio.”
“And what happened next?” Laura asked, hanging on every word.
“And then she offered me the internship. Right there, on the spot.”
Laura pulled Molly in close and kissed her all over. “Molls! I’m so proud of you!”
It wasn’t until they walked out into the bright Los Angeles sunshine that it hit her. She had done it—she had achieved her dream.
The other thing that hit her was that despite everything that had happened, there was only one person she wanted to share the news with—but she had to forgive him first.
Maybe she had made a huge mistake. Maybe she had been looking for a reason to cut Charlie out of her life; maybe on some level she knew she wasn’t quite ready to face her biggest fear: getting her heart broken. But it had already happened, even if it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
No matter how hurt she was, she hadn’t died or disappeared or even fallen apart. She was walking down the street, arm in arm with her mother, still happy.
“Let’s go home,” Molly suddenly said. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get another chance.
“That’s actually where we’re heading. Ron called. The Richardses decided to return to Boulder a week early. They got there yesterday, so Ron’s on his way home now. He should be here by dinnertime.”
The tears sprang up before she could stop them. There were no more chances. Charlie was gone. It was really over.
“Oh, honey,” Laura said. “Let’s get you home.”
• • •
Cheese was waiting for Molly when she got home. She opened the window wide, and he came rushing in to greet her. “I missed you, Mr. Cheese.”
The room looked exactly the same, but she felt like a stranger in it. She had changed so much since she’d last stood there that nothing felt familiar anymore. She opened the dresser drawers, cleaned out, except for a single red shirt that had been left behind. She took it out and pulled it on over her dress. It wasn’t Charlie, but it was the next best thing.
She had to face the fact that he was gone and there wasn’t anything that could be done. The summer was over, and their real lives were about to begin. It was time to let him go.
But she couldn’t. Whether they would ever see each other or not, she still had more to say.
She took out her laptop and began typing.
She must have been there for a while, because Cheese was gone, and it was dark outside when she heard someone knocking at her door.
She was so engrossed in getting her e-mail just right that she didn’t hear the car pull up, the front door open, or even the footsteps coming up the hardwood stairs. She flung herself out of bed and ran to open the door. It had only been a few days, but she’d really missed Ron and was relieved he was home. She couldn’t place exactly when it had happened, but she had gone from fe
eling resentful to really being grateful he had come into her life.
“I’m so happ—” She stopped mid-sentence, and stood motionless with her mouth gaping wide open. It wasn’t Ron standing in front of her.
“Hi. I’m Charlie.”
“You—you’re here,” she said, frozen in place. Despite the pages and pages she had just written, that was all she could manage to say.
“I’m here,” he repeated. “I, uh, hitched a ride with Ron.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m here for you.”
A rush of blood coursed through her body as she felt Charlie’s smooth, soft skin. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was really there, in her room.
“Nice shirt,” he said, breaking the ice. “Is that what you wore to your interview?”
She looked down at her ridiculous outfit and smiled. “Not quite,” she laughed, tugging at the shirt she was still wearing over her dress. “You forgot this.”
“I know,” he said, smiling. “I left it for you.”
His whole face lit up when he smiled, illuminating his bold green eyes. They were even more radiant in person, like they could see more than just what was in front of him.
Charlie pushed the hair out of her eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said. “And this.”
He leaned in to kiss her softly on her left cheek, then gently again on her right until he finally brushed his lips against hers.
Time slowed down to a halt. The room seemed to spin all around them, like it would never stop, the stars on the ceiling above glinting even in the fully lit room.
Molly wrapped her arms around him and pulled his body closer so she could breathe him in, so she could feel his heart beat.
“Meow.”
They looked down at the exact same moment and burst into laughter. Cheese was underfoot, doing figure eights between them.
“Hey, Cheesy,” Molly said, scooping him up. “Look who came back.”
Charlie reached out to pet him. “I love you, Molly Hill.”
She looked up, caught off guard. “What?”
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “I love you,” he said again.
Whether it was his touch or hearing those words or seeing him right there, in the flesh, she didn’t know, but something broke inside her. This was her chance. She was getting her second chance.
Her instincts were telling her to go for it, that everything was going to be all right; they were yelling for her to let go and to open her heart the way Charlie was laying his open for her.
For the first time in her life, Molly realized, she was going to listen.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my editor, Kristen Pettit, for her keen insight and guidance, and for seeing the potential of this book before it was all on the page.
I’m indebted to Kate Lee for making it all possible, for her continued belief in my work, and for going beyond the expectations of any agent.
And thank you to Laura Schechter, for bringing it all home.
I would also like to thank my loyal readers, especially my mother, Dorothy Fieldman. Her artistic example set the mold. Many thanks also to Jen Ringel and Tom Vance for their astute comments.
Thanks also to Dave Rosner for his invaluable Boulder research.
A warm thank-you to Deborah Stern for helping me pave the way for this path, and to Aliza Pollack for her tireless support.
And finally, to my husband, Alex LeVine, for being such an avid listener with an open heart.
In Your Room Page 16