Chasing Charlie

Chasing Charlie Page 62

by C. M. Newman

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE: SIGNS

  Charlie seemed content to stay indoors that evening. He asked for pizza for dinner and got his very own with cheese and pepperoni while Mitch and Angela split something a little more mature in its topping selection. They wound down with a movie to which Charlie didn’t see the end, as he fell asleep curled up in his uncle’s lap, his thumb in his mouth. “Think you can get him to his bed without waking him up?” Angela asked Mitch.

  “Yup.” Mitch gingerly picked Charlie up, waiting for his head to loll against his shoulder. Angela figured that Mitch must have sensed she had something on her mind, because he shut Charlie’s bedroom door on his way back. “So, what’s got you shakin’ like it’s your first day in rehab?” Mitch asked casually, going for a room temperature slice of pizza before he sat by the window for a cigarette.

  Angela’s hands were anything but steady as she consolidated some of Charlie’s Lego bricks before dropping them in a bin. “You sure he’s asleep in there?”

  “Yeah, I waited to make sure,” Mitch assured her.

  “Jenna wants to move to Madison and take Charlie with her,” she explained quietly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” Angela said. “She said she’s hinted to him and he sounds like he’d love the idea of living by the rest of his family.”

  Mitch laughed. “And what about you? What about me? We’re not his family?”

  “She seemed to understand—”

  “Oh, come on, Angela, she doesn’t understand a thing about what you or I are going through. She wants Charlie to herself. She wants you out of the picture. That’s what she wants.”

  Angela shook her head slowly. “She was willing to give me extra time with him to make up for the fact that I’d lose time due to traveling. She even offered to drive him back here if that’s what I wanted. As much as I want to scream at her right now, this isn’t about me. I reacted that way at first, because I’ve gone through so much lately and I just needed to get angry, but I’ve had a few hours to think about it and it’s not about me, Mitch.”

  “How did you react? What’d you tell her?” Mitch asked with eager curiosity. “You tell her to stick it where the sun don’t shine?”

  Angela rolled her eyes. “No, though I wanted to.”

  “Then what did you say?”

  “I told her to let me know when she finds a place because I’ll be shopping for my own right down the street.”

  Mitch’s mouth dropped open, letting out a cloud of smoke. “Just like that? You’re gonna let her do this? Force you to let go of what you have here? You’re stronger than that.”

  Angela glared at him. “A feud is the last thing this messed up little family needs. Did I want to be her friend before? Yes. Do I want to now? No. But I have to at least be civil with her. Charlie can’t know that anything’s wrong.”

  “It’s not like Jen is gonna tattle on you. Just call her up and give her a piece of your mind.”

  “Like I said…love to, but it wouldn’t do any good. It’d just make things worse.”

  Mitch heaved a sigh and settled his head against the wall while he picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “This is bull. This isn’t what Vince wanted and she knows that. We just buried him yesterday and she’s already disregarding his wishes. And it’s not fair to Charlie and it’s not fair to you.”

  “You know what I think?” Angela asked. Mitch was silent. “I think she’s been planning this since she found out Vince was dying. Or at least before I came into the picture or before I got so close with Charlie. He said something a few months ago about her painting her bathroom. It makes sense now. I don’t think this is a spiteful or rash move at all. She did what made sense to her. I mean, she took him to Madison rather early on. Let’s take me out of the picture for a minute, pretend I never happened. There’s nothing keeping her here besides Charlie. And he loves her to pieces. Her entire family—Charlie’s family—is piled up somewhere else. In that situation, I honestly don’t know if I could stay here either. She and Charlie lost Kate here, they lost Vince here—”

  “Yeah, I can tell she’s hurting so much over him,” Mitch said sourly.

  “Listen, I’m not calling her saintly by any means. And I’m not saying she’s making the right move. I’m just trying to see where she’s coming from, because if I can’t see where she’s coming from, I’m not going to act maturely about this. And if I don’t act maturely about this and I start fighting with her, then what is Charlie going to think? How’s he going to feel if two of the three people he loves most in the world hate each other? It’d be just like another divorce. Even if he was too young to remember all of that, we’ll scar him all over again if we repeat it.”

  “Okay, I get it, I’m the hothead,” Mitch relented. “But you can’t take this lying down. You just can’t. At least take it before a judge. You are in Vince’s will. You were only married to him for what, four months? And you want to stay a part of Charlie’s life? Any judge with a heart would take that into consideration.”

  “But, like you said, I was only married to him four months,” Angela countered. “Jenna’s been there since day one and she replaced Kate as his mother figure three years ago. He has no actual familial ties here. You don’t live here permanently. Technically, I’m not even family anymore. I’m not legally his stepmother now. He’s got a truckload of relatives elsewhere and Jenna’s willing to be flexible with me. Nowhere in Vince’s will did it say that we had to live in the same city, let alone the same state. It’s a shame he didn’t think of that, but there’s nothing I can do to change that. He only specified the times we got to see Charlie. And if Jenna says she’s willing to go through extra trouble make this work out to my advantage, a judge is going to side with her. I don’t stand a chance.”

  “It just…sucks to see you taking this without a fight,” Mitch mumbled.

  “Look at me, Mitch. I can’t handle any more drama. I just need for my life to start over again,” Angela said, tears finally burning behind her eyes. “At this point, whether it’s in Madison or here, I don’t know if I even care. As long as Charlie is there. And what would he gain from me and Jenna being at odds with each other? I need to do what I can to keep this under his radar. And like I said, I can kind of see where Jenna’s coming from. Yes, she’s seriously misguided, but she doesn’t mean any harm. She truly does want what’s best for him and I don’t think she’s doing this to spite me. And you heard the whole story about me not telling Vince about the bullying, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, but this is a little bit bigger than that.”

  “I don’t know, is it?” Angela challenged him. “I did what I thought was best. And my motives were somewhat selfish. I wanted Charlie to trust me, so I kept his secret. She’s doing what she thinks is best, also with selfish motives. The decision I made could’ve been a lot more harmful than it ended up being. I got lucky.”

  “And Vince blew up at you,” Mitch pointed out.

  “And then he felt awful about it,” Angela said. “I don’t think turning this into a fight is a good idea. I’ll talk to a lawyer and see if I might have some sort of case, and maybe we can get this straightened out before it’s ever brought up to Charlie. Maybe he’ll never have to know. But if I don’t feel like the odds would be in my favor, I don’t think it’s worth it to bring it before a judge.”

  “What about just…asking Charlie what he wants?” Mitch said.

  “If we can settle this dispute, I’d rather it be without him ever knowing about the idea of moving. But if I don’t have a shot legally, then yeah, I guess we might as well ask Charlie what he’d rather do. Maybe he’ll want to stay here, but probably not.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mitch said after a long break, during which he started up another smoke.

  “For what?”

  “You having to go through this. I mean…there was barely even a rug to pull out from underneath you. But she sure found it.”

  “What about you?” Angela asked, ready for t
hem to stop going round and round in circles. “Were you planning on looking for work here, going back to Chicago, or do you think you’ll move to Madison if that’s where Charlie ends up?”

  “Chicago is where I belong,” Mitch admitted. “If I can find work there again and I’m just more careful about taking time off—you know, as in, giving more than half a day’s notice—then I could feasibly get my time in with Charlie if I lived in the city. It’s an easy trip from Madison. In any case, I think I’ll be good. I’m angry for you and Charlie, though. That’s not gonna change.”

  Angela’s lip sneaked up. “I appreciate the concern.”

  —

  Wanting to get the matter taken care of swiftly and quietly, Angela prepared to kiss a fair amount of money goodbye to meet with the best family attorney the area had to offer.

  “You’re right,” the overly tanned lawyer said after Angela reviewed every tiny detail of her history with Vince, Charlie, and Jenna. “Unfortunately, blood is thicker than water. And since your husband didn’t specify a maximum physical distance, your only argument is if you could convince a judge that the travel would take away a significant amount of your allotted time with Charlie.”

  “But if Jenna says she’s willing to do all the driving herself and cut into her own time with Charlie to get him to me,” Angela led in ominously.

  “Then a judge will probably favor her, yes. Sorry I can’t give you a better answer.”

  “What do you think my odds are of preventing this?”

  “Honestly? Slim to none.”

  Angela’s insides turned to cement. “Figures. Par for the course,” she muttered, grabbing her purse. “Thank you for your time. Your secretary said a thousand per hour given that it’s a weekend and I didn’t have an appointment…Is there any way I can put that on a couple different credit cards?” she asked shyly.

  “Refresh my memory, when was your husband’s funeral?”

  “Umm, just this Thursday,” Angela said warily, not sure what that had to do with anything.

  “I don’t think I said so, but I’m sorry for your loss. A good friend of mine lost his wife to cancer last year. Even when the insurance companies say everything’s covered, they’ll dispute half the claims afterward. Stuff’s not cheap. Anyway, I haven’t done any pro bono work in a while.”

  Angela’s eyes watered at the kindness of a stranger whose breed was known for exactly the opposite. She reminded herself that pro bono was probably a requirement of some sort, or good PR if nothing else, but she didn’t let that stop her from being grateful. “Really?”

  “Sure. As long as you don’t mind filling out some paperwork.”

  Angela grinned. “I work for the government. Paperwork does not scare me.”

  —

  “You met a kind attorney? Congratulations,” Ruth said to Angela in the living room of the apartment that evening. A long day of playing and consuming junk food had tuckered Charlie out. He was sleeping soundly in his room. Mitch had afforded Angela and her mother some privacy and kept watch over Charlie.

  “Yeah, well, it worked out for him, too. Doesn’t matter, though. Saved me money I don’t really have. And no, I don’t need to borrow any, I should be okay until I get back to work. In any case, as I said, I’m out of options. I just…need someone to tell me I’m not crazy for giving up my life here just so I can live in the same city as him.”

  “Of course you’re not crazy. You’re a mom.”

  “I just can’t see us remaining close emotionally if we live so far apart, you know?” Angela rambled on. “I mean, what happens when I have a case over a weekend? I have no doubt that Jenna would be willing to let Charlie stay with me a couple weeknights if he wanted, you know, in exchange for me missing a weekend. But if I don’t live in town, that’s not an option because of school. And I don’t think it’s fair to him to be shuffling him back and forth between cities. That’s so much time in the car. And I can’t go there and take him to a hotel every weekend. I just…I don’t see any other choice but to go with him. We can ask him outright what he wants, sure, but I bet that if he thinks I’m moving, too—and I could never say no to him if he asked—then he’d go for the Madison thing. He’s not extremely close with any particular friend here, one of them turned on him and picked on him about his dad dying, and in Madison he has all these cousins close to his age. And he just lost the biggest part of his family. I think he would want that. He hasn’t had any real fun here in so long. This place is just full of bad memories.”

  “Okay, first of all, calm down,” Ruth said, cupping her daughter’s knee. “Second of all, don’t assume anything. You never know, maybe you could bring it up to Charlie and he could hate the idea once it’s presented to him in a more definite way. Maybe the idea of shaking things up while he’s still so upset would be too scary for him.”

  “Okay, so let’s pretend he says no. Do you think that idea would ever be off the table for Jenna?”

  “I don’t know her, but you do. What do you think?”

  Angela licked her lips and said, “I think she hates it here. And I think she’ll keep bringing Charlie out for visits on his school breaks—or whenever she can—and maybe next summer when he’s out of school again and he’s back on his feet emotionally, she’d bring the idea back up to him again, and it’d be the same problem all over. He might be more likely to say yes then if he didn’t say yes this time.”

  “It sounds like this could go any number of ways,” Angela’s mother said.

  “Then what do I do?” Angela moaned.

  “You get a good night’s sleep tonight, have a calm talk with Jenna tomorrow and see if you can’t talk her out of it, and be prepared to bring it up to Charlie. That’s my advice.”

  Angela covered her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “That sounds like a good idea. If she ends up being found in a dumpster somewhere, just for the record, it wasn’t me, it was Mitch,” Angela joked.

  Ruth’s eyes twinkled. “Even if he’s a little over-reactive, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you, no?”

  “It is. It definitely is.” Angela sighed and slumped back into the couch. “Thanks for coming over so late. I can’t risk Charlie waking up without me here and having him panicking.”

  “Of course,” Ruth said. “Before I go, I do have to confess one thing.”

  Angela’s cheeks lost their color. “What’s that?”

  “I know I rarely—maybe never—said this to you when you were growing up, so don’t laugh, but…I’m so proud of you. You’re not letting your own needs get in the way of his. You love him and you’re doing your best to keep his interests at heart. I don’t know how…my influences resulted in a daughter like you, but I’m glad.”

  Angela felt her cheeks flush again. “Thanks.”

  “I must admit, however…not so proud of the smoking. I saw your father sneak them at the store for you.”

  Angela laughed and rolled her eyes. “Relax, I didn’t smoke them. Besides, I’m forty-one.”

  “And I’m still your mom.”

  —

  Mitch got Charlie to the park and out of earshot Sunday evening when Jenna returned with a shamed look to pick up Charlie for the week. “Can we talk?” Angela asked as neutrally as she could.

  “Uh, sure.”

  Angela sat down at the dining room table. She didn’t offer coffee, even though she had just brewed a fresh pot. While she didn’t feel she could be outwardly spiteful, she couldn’t resist using an interrogation tactic, if for no other reason than it made her feel like she had some control over the situation. “I need to know again if you’re completely serious about this.”

  “I am.” Jenna stared Angela right in the eyes.

  “Even though Charlie’s world is already upside down?” Angela asked.

  “Like I said, we could have a fresh start,” Jenna said.

  “We?”

  “Just like I said the other night, yes, we. I won’t lie,” Jenna confessed easily. “Part of it is
me wanting a fresh start, too. I don’t know if Vince ever told you, but I haven’t lived here my whole life. I don’t just have extended family in Madison. Katie and I grew up there. We both just wanted to go to school here. Of course, she met Vince and never looked back. By the time they had Charlie, I’d already finished up with school and gotten a place back home. I’d already started my life. I was seeing a nice guy, making money. Everything looked promising. Then things started going south with Katie and Vince’s marriage. Before I knew it, Katie wouldn’t let me leave her sight and I was staying with her until she found her new normal. While I was here, my nice guy decided he couldn’t wait around for me but never actually told me formally, so he wasn’t so nice after all, if you catch my drift. So I gave up on Madison for the time being and rented a place here. Then Katie died and…I couldn’t leave Charlie. Not with his dad working so much, and with him so heartbroken. So I settled down. I started working here and bought a place.”

  Angela went to the coffee pot and poured some for both of them after all, not being able to look directly at Jenna. “I didn’t know any of this,” she said. “I mean, I know you moved into town a few years ago, but I didn’t know it was for Kate and Charlie.”

  Jenna nodded. “My point is, Minneapolis isn’t my home. Honestly, I hate it here. But I would ignore all of that if I thought Madison would be a bad move for Charlie. He loves his family out there, though. I think this is a good plan. Not ideal, but good. And like I said, I’m more than willing to take care of transportation, give you extra time when you can take it. I know your schedule is more rigid than mine and I’m sorry if it seems like I ignored that. But he doesn’t have to lose you. And I’m not doing this to hurt you. You have to believe that. Yeah, we’re not best friends, but I don’t hate you, Angela. I don’t have anything against you, really, besides the fact that you live here, I guess.”

  “I know,” Angela said, watching the coffee start to drip. “I know you don’t. But I don’t think Charlie and I can have the same relationship if he’s in Madison and I’m here. Plus, it’s not fair to stick him in the car so many hours a week.”

  “I won’t stop you from moving. I’d completely understand that you want to be nearby. If you need a place to stay while you look for your own, you’re welcome to stay with us for a while.”

  Angela shut her eyes for a moment to calm herself. “I’m not trying to use this as an argument for my case, but I still think you need to know that this isn’t as simple as me packing up my stuff. My entire life is here. Not just my job, but my friends. My parents that I’ve finally grown close to again. I love every last one of them. I just lost Vince and I need these people. I know all I’ve done so far is shut them out, but I really do need them.”

  “I know, and I understand that it would be a sacrifice,” Jenna said hurriedly. “I know it’s not easy for you. I know more than anyone. I made that sacrifice for Katie. You and I are more alike than you think. I’m just throwing it out there so you know it’s an option. I’m not asking you to decide one way or the other.”

  After months of tension and questioning, Angela grew unnerved at Jenna’s revelations. She shut her eyes and focused on the problem at hand, though. “If you’re one hundred percent sure that this is what you think is the best choice, I think we need to take one more step to make sure that you’re correct.”

  “Do you want to take me to court?” Jenna asked.

  “No, I don’t. I don’t want to push us further apart than we already are. Charlie knows nothing but a broken home and him knowing that we’re battling this out in front of a judge won’t help that. The court would side with you anyway. Like I said, I can’t compete with you. The only time I want to be in a courtroom with you is when we’ve come to an agreement and we just need a judge to sign off on it. We’re adults. We both have one common interest and I think we can work this out ourselves.”

  “Then what is it that you want to do?” Jenna asked, wringing her hands.

  “It’s simple. I want us both to sit down together with Charlie, present the idea to him in an unbiased fashion, and ask him what he wants. I think he’s old enough to have his own opinion. His therapist said we need to nurture him, make him feel safe. If you move him out of town against his will, it could break his heart all over again. He’s already been through more than either of us has been through. He’s lost both his parents and he’s not invincible. He still won’t knowingly sleep alone. He still sucks his thumb. He won’t shower anymore. He still talks like a three-year-old sometimes. He still longs for his dad. It’s up to you and me to make sure we don’t give him another reason to need therapy. So. Do you think asking him sounds reasonable?”

  Jenna’s gaze wavered. “Of course. Do you want to do it tonight?”

  Angela shook her head. “No, not yet. This is a life-changing move. I think we could both benefit from taking a couple more days to think it over. At least, I could. My guess is that this has been your plan pretty much since you found out Vince was dying, correct?”

  Unable to lie, Jenna nodded guiltily.

  “Okay, well, you’ve had months to plan this. I found out about it two days ago. I don’t want to make this decision while I’m still worked up about it, so I want to get back to my job and see how I feel. Let’s postpone the court hearing. Before I let Charlie make this decision for me, I just…I need to be sure.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can I trust you won’t talk to him about it? Not even hint to it?” Angela asked. “This needs to be fair.”

  Jenna stood. “Of course. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For…being the bigger person, I guess.”

  —

  Angela spent the next few days in deep thought. She’d lived in the same ten-mile radius for almost her entire life, save for college and Academy training. But with how much she’d had to travel for work, she knew she could adapt to change. The question that plagued her wasn’t whether she could make the move, though. The question was whether she would want to.

  Of course she would. That was the conclusion she kept coming to time and time again, no matter how many times she tried to present the problem to herself in a different light. Wherever Charlie went, she would follow. She had never pictured becoming so devoted to him, but she didn’t mind it a bit. He showed her unconditional love that only one other person apart from her parents had ever shown her. And she saw his love and raised it fifty percent, she liked to think.

  Amidst all the custodial turmoil, Angela still had other things to tend to. Her own heart was still far from healed from her recent loss, and she couldn’t go twenty-four hours a day pretending she lived alone. Mitch deserved better than that. He’d cooled down about the whole moving ordeal and had transitioned into being more supportive of Angela’s logical approach. So she tried to set aside time to at least acknowledge his presence. On top of needing to do her part for Mitch, someone from the team was over every day, cutting into her quiet time.

  Regardless of how little time she had spent grieving over the past week and a half and despite her prior belief that it would take up every second of her time, she was itching to get back to work. Not only did she feel she needed distraction, but she did love and miss her job. She also needed to get back to it to find out if it was something she could leave, should the need arise, which she was still certain it would.

  “It’s only been a week since the funeral,” Harry said over the phone. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I need to get out of here. I’m not really making any headway staying at home and I…I just need to get back, Fitz.” She hadn’t shared the Charlie situation with anyone on the team yet. “So is anyone going to try and stop me?”

  “I can tell them to stay off your case. As long as you’re sure.”

  “I am. Besides, tomorrow’s Friday. It gives me a chance to step back in without having a full week ahead of me.”

  “Fair enough. See you in the morning.”

  Angela hung up and didn’t beat
around the bush with telling Mitch. He was just as reluctant as Harry to believe she was really prepared, but she already had her defenses built up.

  “Are you okay with me still squatting?” Mitch asked. “I’ve been looking into jobs in Chicago. I even got in touch with my old bosses to ask if they’d consider taking me back. They said they’d think about it. That’s probably code for ‘no, and we won’t give you a reference either,’ but I’m trying.”

  “Mitch, you can stay here as long as you need to. Well, the lease is up in a few weeks I think, and depending on how this all plays out, I might only have my apartment here to offer you if I end up moving.”

  “You’d let me stay at your place?” Mitch asked.

  Angela picked up the day’s mail and leafed through it absentmindedly. “Of course. I prefer to stay here until Vince’s lease is up, but we can’t live together forever. Eventually it’ll look weird. Besides, my lease just has a few months on it. Not worth looking into a subletter. And I can’t just kick you to the curb.”

  “Well, hopefully I won’t need to take you up on that, but I appreciate it. Hopefully even if I can’t find a new job in Chicago quite yet, I could crash on someone’s couch there. Or maybe I could just get off my butt and sell Vince’s car.”

  Angela slid her finger underneath the flap of an envelope from her and Vince’s health insurance provider. “Mitch, really, I don’t mind. If anything, it would be a help. I could let my neighbor off the hook in terms of keeping an eye on it. Oh…” Angela covered her mouth as she read the letter in front of her. “No.”

  “What?”

  “Come on,” Angela whispered.

  “What?”

  “Just my luck. This,” she said, holding up a stack of three pages, “is a list of things the insurance is saying they aren’t responsible to pay for, and that’s after the whole—” Angela stopped herself, remembering that Mitch hadn’t been privy to the drug trial. Vince had eventually found out that he’d been in the control group, taking his original regimen all along, but that apparently hadn’t been enough to make their insurance provider happy.

  “The whole what?” Mitch asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Just let me see how much.”

  “None of it’s huge, but it adds up and it’s not like I’m raking in the dough, here.”

  Mitch frowned. “Would you just let me see?”

  When Angela found the final amount, she fought the urge to crumple the pages in her hands. “I might need a lawyer after all.” She handed the papers off to Mitch and dragged her hands roughly down her face.

  “That’s what you get for marrying him. You get all the debt,” Mitch said lightly. Angela’s cross look told him it was too soon for jokes. “Unless you want to pay it out of his estate.”

  Angela shook her head. “That money’s for Charlie.”

  “Okay, well, this is a little less than the difference between what he owed on the car and what I can get for it,” Mitch said, handing the letter back. “You can have the money.”

  “Mitch, I—”

  “Relax. I didn’t want the money anyway. He guilted me into accepting it. And you just offered me a place to stay without a thought. You’d spend more money on lawyers to fight the insurance company than the amount they say you owe, and I understand why you don’t want to dig into what he’s leaving for Charlie. When I get the money, take what you need.”

  “Mitch…this is too much.”

  Mitch shrugged. “That’s what I told him when he made me take the car. I don’t want his money, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to be paying for any of this. It’s a win-win-win.”

  —

  Angela knew better than to think she would sleep soundly that night. She hadn’t since her first night without Charlie, and now she had the added stress of going back to work in the morning. Things were gradually getting better, but she still sometimes wished she hadn’t tossed all of Vince’s medication. Somewhere among them there had to be one that would ward off the dreams.

  After her first night with Charlie in her arms, the pregnancy dreams had come to a screeching halt. They had picked up to some extent every time he’d gone back to Jenna’s house. But ever since the bomb Jenna had dropped, Angela had the dreams again every night. They were still only traumatic upon waking, serene while she was dreaming them, but it didn’t make her like them any more.

  Given the stress of the day, she thought for sure that tonight would be filled with hands on pregnant bellies, sonograms, picking out cribs, and the like, but she dreamed of something else entirely this time.

  She lay with Vince in bed, where they had had many of their most intimate conversations before his passing. He was flipping through a golf magazine when she put her novel down. “Vince?”

  He looked up at her and gave her a kiss. “Yeah, babe.”

  “What should I do?” she asked, her voice quavering. She sank into his open arms.

  “Whatever you feel is right,” he murmured into her hair. “I trust you.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “Yes, it does,” Vince said, drawing away and pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. He thumbed away a tear. “Whatever decision you make, it’s the right one. I trust you,” he repeated.

  “Just tell me. I’d rather you tell me.”

  She awoke with tearstained cheeks around five in the morning. She turned off her alarm and started to get ready. Mitch wasn’t awake when she packed her necessities, the work she’d taken home over two months ago, and her go bag. She didn’t rouse him before leaving.

  She assumed Harry had called the team the night before and warned them not to mob her, because nobody met her at the doors or cut her off on her way to her desk.

  “Welcome back,” Harry said kindly when she sat down.

  “Thanks. Good to be here.”

  “New badge looks great on you,” Sophie said brightly.

  Angela’s heart grew cold. She forced herself to look over at Vince’s old office for some sort of comfort. She hadn’t even thought to on the way in. A light was on. “Is…is someone else in Vince’s old office?”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, turning away in his chair. “Facilities got on my case again. Had to give it up.”

  “Oh.” Angela tried not to sound too disappointed in losing what she thought might have been a nice coping mechanism. She already felt sick with longing for him. She wondered if that was already a sign that this was no longer the place for her, but she tried her best not to go jumping to conclusions.

  “I was going to offer it to you, but in one of my psychic moments, I saw you laughing at me. Was I right?” Harry asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. There’s no way I’d be able to concentrate in there, but thanks for the offer. I like the bullpen anyway. Besides, I’m not next in line for an office. Marshall is.”

  Angela wasn’t quite sure how she felt when Marshall stepped through the door at the sound of his name, but she supposed it was a much better alternative to an agent from another team.

  “Hey, you,” Marshall said with a soothing smile. “Nice to see you back. That desk looks good on you.”

  Angela chuckled under her breath. “This is quite the surprise. No name plate?”

  “I wouldn’t have surprised you that way,” Marshall said with a grin. He slid in a brand new nameplate. “This all right with you?”

  “Well, it’s either that or the guy that doesn’t wear deodorant, right?” Angela said, her heart warming after all.

  “That’s what we figured. We had to give the office to someone. Trust me, we all would’ve preferred to leave it be,” Marshall said.

  Angela gave an appreciative smile. “I know. This is the next best thing, though. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Gotta get to work. Wanna grab lunch with me?” Sophie asked.

  “Not sure I’ll be taking any lunch breaks any time soon,” Angela said sardonically. “But…maybe just this once, I suppose. Couldn’t hurt.”

  Sop
hie looked around Angela’s desk. “Where’s all that work you brought home with you?”

  “In my car,” Angela said.

  “What,” Marshall said with a laugh, “were you gonna make me go get it for you?”

  Angela had really simply forgotten to grab it from her trunk. “I was beginning to think you’d lost your manners and you’d never ask,” she said, though.

  “Glad you’re back,” Marshall said as he strode toward her. “Gimme your keys.”

  “I was just joking,” Angela said. “I just forgot to bring the boxes in.”

  “You get one day where I treat you like a princess. After that, no more mister nice guy.” Marshall waited with crossed arms and wiggling fingers. “Give ‘em here.”

  Angela reluctantly fished out her keys and handed them to Marshall, who pulled her in for a hug. She didn’t love being taken by surprise, but she put up with it. “Thanks,” she said.

  “You got it.”

  “Welcome back, Agent Glasser,” Hanson said without announcing her sudden presence. “Agent Fitzhugh, you’ve got a case.” She handed him a thick file.

  “Already?” Angela said with a little groan.

  “You’re not comin’,” Marshall said firmly. “You have Charlie on weekends and it’s too soon to stray away from that.”

  “Hold on, Fitz,” Sophie said. “This should be her choice.”

  Angela looked around at the waiting faces. “No, no, I can’t possibly go. I do have Charlie and I can’t skip out on a weekend just yet. Marshall’s right. He needs his routine.”

  “Then take this case off for the weekend at least, take today to get your feet wet, like we said,” Harry insisted. “Care to join us for the briefing?”

  —

  Angela’s first day back was strange to say the least. Within an hour of arriving, everyone else had taken off for a case whose location Angela had already forgotten. That actually eliminated the pressure she felt to act normally, but adding to her stress level was the fact that she had yet another secret she was keeping from her friends. They had no idea she might not be back for long.

  When she got home, she was drained, but she knew what she had to do. She had already sat on it for five days, longer than she’d planned. Already with a hint of what a burden her secret would be, and with no change of heart whatsoever even after being back at work, she decided that tonight was the night.

  God, please give me some sort of sign that this is the right thing to do, she prayed silently in despair before Jenna arrived with Charlie. Just some sort of sign.

  With Jenna’s permission and Mitch claiming they needed groceries so he had a place to go, Angela led Charlie into the living room.

  “How did your appointment with Dr. Birmingham go today?” Angela asked, pointing to the recliner so Charlie would take it. All in the interest of being fair, she and Jenna took the couch.

  “Good,” Charlie said.

  “She said he’s doing just fine,” Jenna confirmed.

  “That’s good to hear.” Angela cleared her throat and said under her breath to Jenna, “Do you want to…do the honors?”

  “Uh, sure. Charlie, sweetie,” Jenna said, leaning forward. “What would you think of moving to Madison so we could be closer to Andy and Tabitha and Theresa and all your other relatives?”

  Charlie’s previously blank expression lit up, sending Angela’s heart plummeting.

  “Really?” he asked excitedly. “We would live by them?”

  “Yeah,” Jenna said with a smile. Thankfully, for Angela’s sake, it wasn’t a smug one.

  “Angela, you’re gonna come too, right?” Charlie asked, his legs kicking to and fro happily.

  The decision was painfully easy for Charlie. He was six and didn’t need a week to mull things over. Jenna was right, and Angela’s hopes were history. She still had a life with Charlie to look forward to, but she saw no other way to be with him than to say goodbye to the life she knew. “Oh, of course I am.”

  “Cool!”

  Angela couldn’t help but be thrilled to hear Charlie so happy. She hadn’t seen a smile quite like this since long before his father had passed away. Of course, as the moving process started, he would become distressed, she figured. He would realize just how much his life was about to change and he might lose some progress in his recovery. But if he was keen on it now, she had to tell herself it was the right choice.

  “Are you excited?” Jenna asked pointlessly.

  Charlie nodded with fervor and hopped down from the recliner. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, climbing up into Angela’s lap.

  She held back the tears that were a concoction of agony, ecstasy, and consequent confusion. “I was thinking we could go out somewhere and you could pick.”

  “Okay. When are we moving?”

  “Once we take care of some things,” Jenna explained. “I still need to find us a house in Madison and sell my house here, and Angela will need to find a house and a new job, too.”

  “You have to get a new job?” Charlie asked, looking up at Angela with a bit of regret.

  “Of course I do, silly,” Angela said, pinching his nose. “It’s too far away to keep my job here. But it’s okay. I’d much rather live by you.”

  Jenna cleared her throat. “Charlie, how do you feel about staying with Angela on a weeknight, too?”

  Charlie counted on his fingers. “That’s three days,” he said.

  Angela couldn’t gauge Jenna’s reaction without letting Charlie know that she was taken aback. “Yeah, three days,” Angela said. “Does that sound good?”

  “Yeah! Angela, I gotta go potty,” he informed her suddenly.

  “Okay, let’s go, then,” she said, knowing she would be asked to stand outside the door.

  “I’ll see you guys Sunday. Bye, honey. Give me a quick hug,” Jenna said.

  Charlie threw his arms around his aunt’s neck. “Can we get a house with a pool?”

  She laughed. “I dunno, we’ll see. Okay, go ahead and go potty. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” Charlie called on his way down the hallway, Angela following close behind.

  Angela waited until Charlie was doing his business before she sneaked back to the front of the apartment. A glance wasn’t quite enough. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She was by no means happy with Jenna, but the extra weeknight couldn’t hurt.

  Jenna shook her head, her eyes already red and swollen. “No. Thank you.”

  —

  The weekend went by all too quickly and Angela found herself facing Monday, which would most likely be spent catching up on more busy work and being interrupted occasionally by Sophie when she had a free minute.

  With the team gone, she had plenty of time to think. More time than she’d gotten at home, really. That morning, she finalized her decision to break her news to the team sooner rather than later. If she was to give an appropriate amount of notice and find herself a new job, she couldn’t let this secret linger like she had with her and Vince’s relationship. Not only would it be counterproductive, but it would be insulting to the friends who had been there for her.

  “Hey there,” Angela said the first time Sophie called. “What’s going on with the case?”

  “It’s been quiet.”

  “So take a quick nap. I’m sure you’ve been up all weekend,” Angela said.

  “Sleazy creeps do not sleep, my dear, nor do I. How was your weekend with His Cuteness?”

  “Too short, but good otherwise. He’s still playing shadow, but it’s not quite as bad. He’ll actually come in Vince’s and my bedroom now, too. Just to get to the bathroom to talk to me while I get ready, but still. Baby steps.”

  “Yes, definitely. Baby steps. And how are you doing?”

  “Okay, I guess,” Angela said with a sigh, tracing the rim of her coffee mug and leaning back in her chair. “Actually, no, that’s not really true. Can I talk to you?”

  “Of course. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” />
  Angela took her conversation into Marshall’s office and closed the door behind her. “Jenna’s, umm…moving to Madison to be with her side of the family. And she’s taking Charlie with her.” She went on to explain everything that had happened since two Fridays ago, when Jenna had broken the news. By the time she was finished, she was surprised Sophie had remained silent.

  “I can’t even decide what to rant about first,” Sophie said frantically. “The fact that that dreadful woman is doing this at all, the fact that she’s doing it so soon after Vince passed away, or the fact that you’re leaving. I just…Angela…no, this is not happening. There has to be a way to fix this. I can frame her for white-collar crime. Anything. You name it. I can bring her down.”

  Angela shook her head. “Like I said, it’s what Charlie wants. Yeah, I’m upset that she couldn’t wait a few weeks, but at the same time, maybe it’s just best to get this all squared away while I’m still an emotional wreck and before he starts school again.”

  “Emotional wreck? Do we need to have another pep talk? Seriously. You know, Jenna’s insensitivity to the human condition is enough in my eyes to deem her unfit to raise a child.”

  “I’m upset, but I’m not mad at her. Not really. I want to be, but I can’t be. We’ll never be best friends but Charlie can’t know that. We’ll just have to fake it till we make it.”

  “Is this really what you want, Angie?” Sophie asked desolately.

  “Not really. But what other choice do I have?”

  “I need to hold you. Or for you to hold me. I wish I were at the office with you.”

  “I never thought things would get this complicated,” Angela admitted. “I try to be—independent, you know, but Sophie, I really wish Vince were here. Not just so—so none of this would be happening but because I—I miss him. I miss him so much.” She was glad she’d holed herself up in an office, as she was now losing her grasp on her emotions.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. You just let it out, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

  Just as Angela let out a pathetic but much-needed wail, Sophie’s line beeped. “Yes, Agent Marshall?” Sophie answered snippily.

  “Whoa, someone needs some more coffee. Maybe a little sugar in it this time,” Marshall said. “Listen, I need you to—is someone on the line with me?”

  “Worry yourself with more important things, Marshall,” Sophie said. “Is this quick? If not, I need you to call Fitz instead.”

  “It should be quick. Angela, are you on?” Marshall asked

  “Darcy James Marshall,” Sophie said tersely. “You’re trying my patience. Ask me your question and make it quick.”

  Marshall sighed. “I’ll call Fitz instead. Should be something he can look up. I hope everything’s okay, Angela.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m distracting,” Angela said, sighing, once Marshall disconnected.

  “No, he’s distracting. Is there anything I can do for you? I have a really good color printer and a Nerf foam dart gun. We could play target practice when I get back.”

  Angela found a way to laugh through her pain. “You’re insane. I love you.”

  “And I you. Seriously…is there anything I can do for you? I’m almost as clueless as Marshall right now. Keyword being ‘almost.’ Which is synonymous with ‘nowhere near,’ but still. Tell me what I can do.”

  Angela took a moment to think. “You can keep this between just us two until I’ve at least found a job to apply for.”

  “You and your secrets. But okay. You have my word.”

  —

  The team wrapped the case by Tuesday morning and gathered around Angela’s desk. “Welcome back,” she said.

  “Good to be back,” Harry said. “You doing all right?”

  “Yeah,” Angela responded with a soft smile.

  “All right, folks, back to work,” Harry said.

  “Actually,” Angela said, “I need to, umm…” She glanced at Sophie for a quick boost of confidence. Sophie gave it in the form of a nod and a squeeze of the hand. “I need to talk to you all. Do you think we could meet in private for a minute?”

  With the eyes in the back of her head, Angela saw Harry and Marshall exchanging wary glances behind her. Already uncomfortable enough with being in the spotlight, she sat down next to Sophie in the conference room.

  “What’s going on?” Marshall asked, but his voice said he had his suspicions.

  The story was easier for Angela to tell this time. She made sure to add in extra assurances that she didn’t want insults or anger aimed at Jenna, that it would do no good.

  Agent Hirsch stood by in solidarity but didn’t have anything to say. Angela’s other colleagues weren’t so speechless, though.

  “You’re leaving?” Marshall said, his voice fading. “How can you come back and just…leave?”

  “I can’t see another way around this,” Angela said remorsefully. “I love this job and I love you all, but…being back has felt strange—”

  “Of course it feels strange. You’ve been gone for over two months,” Marshall interjected.

  Angela eyed Agent Hirsch just to have someone to look at who didn’t make her want to cry. “I prayed for a sign that I was doing the right thing. And on top of Charlie being excited about being near the rest of his family, I think I got another sign.”

  “What is it?” Harry asked.

  Angela exchanged a knowing glance with Sophie again. “There’s an opening for ASAC for a team in Milwaukee that stays local. It’s not perfect, but…I’d get to be with Charlie.”

  Angela had foolishly hoped that someone in the room besides Sophie would be happy for her, but all she was receiving were blank stares.

  “It’s an hour-and-a-half drive between Madison and Milwaukee in good traffic, but at least there wouldn’t be all the unexpected traveling,” she went on. “I’ll have my weekends free for him and I can make sure I’m home on time one night a week. Jenna gave me an extra day.”

  Still, nothing.

  “I have a preliminary phone interview tomorrow with the special agent in charge there. It sounded like he loved my resume, said I had a lot of experience, and with the good recommendations, I actually have a really good shot at landing this job.” Angela got the feeling that no one was really listening to her anymore, so she paused her explanation. She would have had to stop soon, anyway, as she was running out of details. “Whatever job I do get, I’d be more than happy to stick around here until you guys have a replacement for me. And trust me when I say that while on one hand, this decision was easy, on the other hand, it broke my heart. But I think that…if I get this job…that’s another sign I was looking for. And no matter what, I’ll come back as often as I can to visit. I won’t be far. I’m gonna miss you guys like crazy.”

  Harry waited for a long enough pause and cleared his throat. He stood and pushed his chair in. “If you’ll all excuse me, I have to go get a hold of Hanson. She and I have some glowing recommendations to write.”

  —

  “I’ll be very sorry to see you go, but I’m glad it seems like things will work out for you, or that you at least have some good signs,” Pastor Fenwick said to Angela in the sanctuary the next evening. He’d claimed he’d been in his office too long.

  “Can you tell me whether Jenna talked to you about taking Charlie to Madison? Or does that fall under your…vow of secrecy?”

  The pastor grinned. “I’m not at liberty to say whether I spoke with her on the matter, but let’s just say if she had come to me about it, I would have told her to pray and to talk to you instead of me.”

  Angela played with the ribbon bookmarks sewn into the spine of a hymnal. “I really hope I’m doing the right thing here. Not just for Charlie, but for me, too. I feel like…I’m risking my own ability to recover by moving away from everyone else that I love, and so soon. If I do get this job and I don’t end up loving it, I worry that I’ll regret moving to Madison and I’ll resent Jenna or even Charlie for it. It really scares me.”


  “Have you talked to the man upstairs?” Pastor Fenwick asked, sliding off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt.

  “We’ve had some good chats,” Angela said with a half-smile. “I do have reason to believe that this is a step in the right direction. I really shouldn’t be scared at all. But, in all honesty…this conversation isn’t even really why I came here.”

  “Oh? Why did you, then?”

  Angela swallowed and thought back to over two weeks ago, to the last time Vince had spoken to her. “I wanted to thank you for—”

  “Like I told him—”

  “No, please let me say this,” Angela persisted. “I had no idea how lost I really was until Vince started sharing his thoughts with me about his faith, until he started bringing me to church with him. I spent a couple of decades on the wrong track and if Vince hadn’t witnessed to me like he did, who knows what I’d be up to now? And who knows where he would’ve ended up had you not pulled him aside after church that one day and really gotten to know him?”

  “The Lord really wanted Vince. He would have gotten him back one way or another. I won’t take credit for His work. I’m just an instrument.”

  Angela rolled her glassy eyes. “If you won’t take credit, will you at least take a hug?”

  The old man shook his head. “This is beginning to sound too much like a goodbye. You let me know when it’s your last day here. Then I’ll say my farewells.”

  —

  Two weeks later, Angela walked back into the bullpen after a conference call with the special agent in charge at the Milwaukee field office. She tried to hide the bounce in her step when she noticed her best friends gathered around her desk. They had all known about the phone call and everyone, herself included, had assumed it would be one where she found out whether she had gotten the job after two rounds of in-person interviews.

  “Well?” Sophie asked, her knuckles white as she clasped her hands in front of her.

  It had taken the team a while to get past the shock of Angela leaving, but in their own time, each had grown supportive of her decision. She had come to terms with it more as well, especially when she saw how excited Charlie was over the charming bungalow Jenna had found in a nice neighborhood. Angela’s relationship with Jenna was still uncertain, but she had faith that it would grow better over time. It had to. Her biggest chore over the last two weeks had been convincing Mitch of that much. Her optimism was fueled by the fact that, with the news of a fresh start with a bigger family, and with good old-fashioned time, Charlie seemed to be doing much better. He slept alone most nights now, rarely sucked his thumb, and was kicking the habit of following his loved ones everywhere they went. He had surpassed anyone’s expectations of how well he would handle the transition thus far.

  Two weeks ago, Angela would have been scared to share her news, scared even to have received it, but now she was nothing short of giddy. “I got it,” she said with a laugh.

  Sophie gasped. “I can’t believe it—I mean I can, but I can’t. Oh, you know what I mean. Honey, I am so thrilled for you,” she said, her hand on her heart before she threw her arms around her friend.

  “Thank you guys so much,” Angela said, fearing she was going to choke up soon. “For being there for me through everything, for supporting me.”

  “And for some pretty amazing recommendations,” Harry said, coughing.

  “Those, too,” Angela said, pausing her hug with Sophie to give Harry one, too. “I need to go thank Hanson.”

  “Actually, I think you need to go house-hunting,” Marshall said, grinning.

  “Yeah, that too. Oh, wow. This is all surreal. I still can’t believe I’m leaving, but…I guess it’s time for me to start a new chapter, you know? I knew I’d have to either way when I came back. This is a little more change than I’d been expecting, but I am kind of excited. Is that weird?”

  “It’s good,” Marshall said, smiling but not without a tinge of sadness. “It’s really good.”

  “And may I please say,” Harry interjected, “thank you for telling us all about this instead of just disappearing.” His mocking got some laughter from his friends.

  Angela couldn’t help but wish Vince were here to celebrate with them, even though logic stated that without his passing, she wouldn’t be moving in the first place. But as she looked around at her friends’ smiling faces and as she thought of how she’d made it through the last several months, she was warmed from the inside out with a dreamlike sense of peace. Even though she would never work another case with Vince, even though she had to learn to find happiness again without his help, she finally thought that she might actually be all right.

  EPILOGUE: MADISON

  Angela woke up with her alarm—one she almost hadn’t set—on her first day of a week’s vacation from work. Jenna’s residual guilt gave Angela easy leverage when she chose to use it, thus a month after Charlie had spent Thanksgiving with his other relatives, Angela had Charlie with her for the week she took off for Christmas.

  Starting today, Angela and Charlie could put up Christmas decorations together, trim the tree, and bake and frost enough sugar cookies to feed the company they would have the next day. Sophie, Harry, and Marshall would all be making the drive into town to see Angela and Charlie’s new home for the first time. Angela had taken Charlie back to Minneapolis a few times since moving and had seen her old friends then, but no visit back home could top the anticipation of finally giving them the grand tour.

  Her and Charlie’s gargantuan two-story brick home had cost more than what she would have been able to afford on her old salary. It was a risk, not knowing whether her new job would be a good fit, but it was a risk she hadn’t been able to resist when she’d seen the house. Not only was it two short blocks from Jenna’s home, it was also big enough to hold company—namely Mitch, who was known to take the bus in from Chicago and stay for a weekend when he could. It also had a wraparound porch and sported a sizeable back yard with well-established flowerbeds out front. Angela had never had much of a green thumb, but now that she was a homeowner, she was excited to dive into new things. Unclogging drains and fixing squeaky hinges were already among them.

  Her favorite part of the new house, though, wasn’t the yard, the location, the size, the homey kitchen, or the brand new washer and dryer that the previous owners had left behind.

  It was the large wood-burning fireplace in the living room. There were still nights when she missed Vince terribly, enough for her to be glad that Charlie was either in bed or at Jenna’s so she could sit in front of the crackling fire and let the tears fall as they would. The fireplace had been the selling point, really. There were other comparable homes in the neighborhood that had run for a little less, but this one had the magic ingredient.

  Even given such comforts, healing was still a work in progress. Sometimes Angela had to laugh at herself, as she was somewhat envious of Charlie’s astounding recovery. The transition to Madison had been a little shaky at first, with Charlie not old enough to remember the moving process and thus being a bit rattled by it. But once he had gotten settled into both homes and had gotten to know his local family even better, he had flourished. And once the school year had gotten into full swing, he had made friends with several classmates. There were still nights, once in a blue moon, where he would declare that he missed his father and didn’t want to sleep alone. Given the infrequency of such occurrences, Angela was happy to oblige and pull back the covers for him, and she knew Jenna did the same.

  Angela hadn’t coped quite as well as Charlie had at first. Despite the elation of landing such a great job opportunity and the prospect of being with Charlie, it had broken her heart to leave so many things behind. Upon moving, she’d missed her friends much more than she had while away from work to care for Vince. She knew the physical distance, combined with her still mending heart since Vince’s departure, contributed to that extra pain. She also still missed her former job, no matter how much she enjoyed her new position
.

  On top of all of that, her preparations for leaving Minneapolis had left time to meet up only once with Jeff, who had kept his promise and called her to make the plans. Perhaps that part was for the best, though, Angela figured. She’d found herself coveting a life that wasn’t hers. She wasn’t jealous of Jeff’s wife specifically; rather, she envied how put together the Drapers’ lives were. To make matters worse, having dinner with them had been downright uncomfortable. Even the nicest of women wouldn’t have been able to handle, with perfect grace, their husband’s first lover sitting down at the table with them and their children. Amy had tried, but her side of every conversation was strained by things about Jeff and Angela that she couldn’t unlearn. Being able to catch up with Jeff one-on-one would have been nice, but Angela knew better than to think Jeff’s wife could—or should—give her blessing for that to happen. Some things were no longer appropriate.

  Fortunately, all of these burdens had eased up over time, overall leaving Angela happy with her decision. Her new job had turned out to be quite the adventure—scary and challenging, but highly rewarding. Although work no longer involved seeing her best friends, she still liked her new role. With time, she could see herself becoming closer with her new team, though being in a leadership position gave her a newfound understanding of why Vince had often been so reserved around his flock.

  It had taken longer to find that same peace with her greatest loss, however. Even five months after Vince’s death—a time span longer than their marriage—she still wondered some days whether she would ever heal as much as she hoped. Crying herself to sleep was no longer part of her nightly routine, but she still wore her wedding ring and didn’t see herself taking it off any time soon. If by chance someone around work didn’t know of the somewhat legendary Vince Glasser and that she had married him, she kept her story to a simple my husband died of cancer.

  The details never simplified quite like that for her, though. At times, all that kept her heart afloat was remembering that she had loved Vince so ardently from the very beginning that she had been willing to endure the heartache that still plagued her. There wasn’t a moment in their relationship that wasn’t to be cherished even though every day had been tainted with the knowledge of what had loomed on the horizon. She revisited her favorite memories almost habitually.

  On lonely nights when she thought she might never be whole again—nights when she thought she would give anything for Vince’s bodily form to envelop her in his arms instead of her having to pretend that he was still with her—she recalled a dip in the ocean, a day at the beach with Charlie, the wedding, or one of many other cherished but less significant memories.

  All in all, Charlie was adjusting better than anyone could have expected, and Angela was learning to live a fulfilling life with half her heart missing. With their well-being relatively secure, Angela found herself wondering more and more about how the next twelve or thirteen years would play out with a certain someone else.

  Jenna, like Charlie, seemed rather happy in her new home. But she had indeed taken a risk. To this day, Angela still didn’t see a way she could have fought the move without risking Charlie’s sense of security, which relied heavily upon how he saw Jenna and Angela interacting. Angela still held a trace of resentment toward Jenna for having jeopardized Charlie’s recovery and having forced her hand like she had that summer, even though, as Jenna had pointed out, the two women could relate in more ways than Angela cared to admit. But Angela liked to think that, at least on the outside, things with Jenna were manageable. If they were to become true friends, it would take a lot of time to form the unwavering trust required, but for now, Charlie seemed blissfully unaware of any hard feelings between the two of them.

  Such was life at the Glasser residence. Having Charlie in the house kept Angela pleasantly busy. On nights when she was on her own, she got back to old, forgotten hobbies—curling up with a good book (of course, in front of a warm, crackling fire), watching a favorite movie, going for a run, or taking a trip to the mall by herself. There were also the not-so-forgotten hobbies, like spreading out a pile of work in front of her so she wouldn’t need to stay late the next day to finish it all. She delved into new things, too, like the Bible study books Vince had left behind.

  With the imminent arrival of her friends—her only other family apart from her parents, who had already been out for two visits—Angela lay in bed reflecting on all of this. How far she’d come from crying over Vince’s dead body, from walking down the sanctuary aisle and feeling the stares, the pity, to this. To smiling again. To looking forward to things again. To finding a reason to appreciate each day instead of writing it off as another one not worth remembering.

  She considered going back to sleep, maybe sneaking in a dream, knowing that morning dreams were usually about Vince. With Charlie secure, with the feeling that she had some semblance of a child of her own and that she hadn’t lost Vince completely, she was no longer pregnant with his child in her dreams. But she was still with Vince quite often. Not long after she had found out about landing her new job, she had had another dream about the two of them curled up on the couch. He had squeezed her tight and said, “I told you you’d make the right decision.” She had playfully pointed that he would have said the same thing either way, according to his previous logic, and he had quipped back that that was why she loved him so much.

  Yes, she decided, pressing her cheek to one of two very special pillows, it’s officially my vacation. Let’s see if we can replay that one.

  But someone else in the house had a strict internal clock and tapped on the door. Angela moaned and rolled onto her back. “C’mon in,” she called. Charlie came skipping through the door and hopped up onto the bed, a midsize mutt of a dog following closely behind him and curling up on top of Angela’s feet.

  “Hi,” Charlie said, his morning voice scratchy.

  “Morning, sweetie,” she said, reaching her hand out for a tuft of displaced hair. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Good,” Charlie said. “Can we go pick out a tree now?”

  Angela took a peek out the window. It was only six and not nearly light out yet. “How about we hold off on that until the sun comes up?” she said with a grin.

  “Okay. Can I open a present right now?”

  “Nope, not till Christmas,” Angela said. “And Santa won’t come if you go sniffing around looking for presents I got you. Understood?” she asked, touching the tip of his nose.

  “Okay,” he moaned, rolling away from her. “Can we have cinnamon rolls for breakfast?”

  “Most definitely.”

  Angela couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real Christmas tree, but Charlie had insisted, as his aunt always had one. Angela couldn’t completely waft away the air of competition between her and Jenna, so she’d promised Charlie he could pick out their real tree, bare spots and all, even if it meant lugging it inside by herself and marring her freshly painted walls and ceiling.

  And lug the tree inside she did. Once the stage was set, the day was spent with Angela stringing lights around it and letting Charlie put all the ornaments in the same three square feet of space. She decided she would wait to fix it until that night when he went to bed. Of more importance was making the rest of the first floor equally festive. While Charlie did just that with a bin of craft supplies, Angela dug through a box of more worldly Christmas decorations her mother had brought on her last visit as well as boxes from Vince’s apartment.

  More than a few times that day, Angela remembered the time she had come home from a case to find Vince digging through decorations and mementos from his favorite holiday. The two of them had danced closely to Bing Crosby’s yuletide classics, and had ended up crying, mourning the fact that they would never spend a Christmas together, that Vince had unknowingly already lived his last one. The ache in her heart when she came across Charlie’s and Vince’s stockings gave her an appreciation for the pain others felt during the holidays for loved ones lost. Vin
ce had died nowhere near Christmas, yet she still found herself choking back tears of longing. Longing for him to be placing decorations with her, singing along with a record. She thought of doing the latter, as she had kept his record player and vinyls, but decided the risk of waterworks was too great. They instead listened to the Chipmunks trilling their favorite colorful carols and baked the rest of the day away, feeding the dog the damaged inventory. Angela joked that the dog was a nuisance, but in reality, she loved the company while Charlie was around the corner.

  “I’m sick of frosting cookies,” Charlie complained after the third batch. “I wanna hang up my stocking. Where is it?”

  Angela wiped her floury, food-colored hands on an apron she’d never thought she’d own. “I’ll get it for you.” She rooted through the boxes until she found the stockings again.

  “Should we hang Daddy’s up, too?” Charlie asked offhandedly.

  Angela had feared just the opposite—that the sight of Vince’s stocking would upset Charlie. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Sure.”

  “We gotta get you one,” Charlie noted. “Or maybe Daddy’s should be yours now.”

  “That sounds good,” Angela said with a soft laugh. Vince’s stocking read Daddy in messy glitter pen, but whatever worked for Charlie worked for her. “Guess what,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  Angela crouched down and tugged the growing boy into a hug. “I love you.”

  “Yuck, you got flour on me!” he said, giggling and ruffling a small cloud of white free from his shirt.

  “But…?” Angela said, arching her eyebrows hopefully.

  Charlie gave her a smile with a couple of teeth missing. “But I love you anyway.”

  —

  “I absolutely love it, Angela. I’m drooling. Pictures did not do it justice at all. Come, show us the rest,” Sophie said inside Angela’s kitchen.

  Angela happily gave her friends a tour of the house once she got all her hugs in. “Original hardwood floors?” Marshall said as Angela led them all up the creaky stairs.

  “Yup. Crown molding throughout, too.”

  “It’s a great house,” Marshall said.

  “Your energy bills must be through the roof,” Harry said when Angela noted the bit of a draft in her room. “Have you considered re-insulating?”

  “That’s not at the top of my list, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “How’s the hour-and-a-half commute been treating you? Regretting it yet?” Sophie asked.

  “It’s rough, but it’s worth it. I did think of finding a midpoint instead, but I like being right around the corner from Jenna and Charlie. If she needs a babysitter, I get an extra night with him. Works out well.”

  When the adults got to his end of the hall, Charlie opened the door to his freshly cleaned room. Angela had no doubt that there was a disorganized pile of toys hidden far underneath his bed. “This one’s mine,” Charlie told their guests proudly.

  “Very cool,” Harry said. “Does your dog sleep in here with you?”

  Charlie nodded fervently. “Yup. My Uncle Mitch got him for me so I’d have someone to keep me company,” Charlie informed everyone.

  “What’s his name?” Marshall asked Charlie.

  “Uncle Mitch said I could name him Mitch, so I did,” Charlie replied.

  Nervous laughter bounced off the hallway walls, with eyes looking to Angela for confirmation. She grimaced and nodded. “Yup…”

  The oven beeped shrilly. The dog took off after it with a bark.

  “I need to check on the ham,” Angela said, making her way down the stairs. “Can I get you guys something to drink?” she asked when they all followed her to the kitchen.

  “How about we crack this open?” Harry said, holding up a bottle of wine he’d sneaked in and set on the counter while Angela wasn’t looking.

  “Wow. That looks…dusty,” Angela remarked.

  “That’s because I’ve had it for a while. It’s actually almost as old as I am. Don’t worry,” he said when he saw Angela’s wide eyes on him. “It made the trip just fine.”

  Angela rolled her eyes. “Well, clearly…but I’m sure that’s expensive, you should save that for a—”

  “Special occasion, I know,” Harry cut her off with a warm smile. “How’s this not a special occasion? Now where’s your corkscrew…?”

  “Can I try some?” Charlie asked.

  “A 1949 DRC Pinot? You sure, kid?” Harry said. “Wouldn’t you rather have some Kool-Aid?”

  “Whoa, Fitz, hang on,” Angela said, almost diving for the bottle just as he was about to pierce the cork. “I mean it, don’t open that.”

  “Uh-uh-uhhhh,” Harry said, holding the bottle out of reach. “I said I was saving it for the right moment. I would’ve opened it at your little reception but I asked Vince if he would drink any and like the tightwad he was, he said to keep it.”

  “So you respected his wishes but won’t respect mine?” Angela asked, a hand on her hip.

  “That is correct. Do you have any more complaints?”

  Angela let herself smile and passed around the glasses Harry poured. Sophie found grape juice for Charlie, who climbed up onto a barstool.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” Sophie said, glaring at Harry, who had stolen her opportunity at Vince and Angela’s wedding reception. “Please?” she added.

  Everyone chuckled and Harry held his glass out to Sophie permissively, then put his nose to it to see if the wine needed breathing. He sighed contentedly, so apparently not.

  “Charlie, not yet,” Angela said, tickling the top of Charlie’s head when he went to drink some of his juice.

  “I have no words for how bittersweet this moment is,” Sophie started, “but I’ll keep on talking anyway, believe you me. It is so good for us all to be back together. I know we all miss—” Sophie suddenly became mindful of Charlie and stopped. “I mean…okay, Fitz, you’re so much better at this than I am,” Sophie said with a sigh. “I’m good at a lot of things but not so much at making toasts. Help.”

  Harry grinned and gave Angela’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “To…old friends and new beginnings. Cheers.”

  “Now can I?” Charlie asked once everyone clinked glasses and he copied them.

  Angela leaned down and placed a kiss on Charlie’s crown. “Go for it.”

  —

  Harry caught Angela alone in the kitchen. She had a feeling he’d been trying to get a moment with her all day. She grinned as she hand-washed the dishes that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked.

  “First of all, back away from the sink,” Harry said, holding up a warning hand.

  “Uhh, no. I don’t want a sink full of dirty dishes and I’m kind of enjoying myself.” Angela was listening to the chatter going on in the living room. It revolved mostly around Charlie’s Christmas list.

  “Whatever you say, then.”

  “Thank you for bringing the wine. That was…really sweet.”

  “Really? I thought it was a little more smoky than anything,” Harry said with a glint in his eye.

  “You’re ridiculous,” Angela said with a chuckle. “I’m…so glad to have you guys here. Seriously. It was already starting to really feel like home, you know? But throw you guys in and I kind of feel like I never left Minneapolis.”

  “Wish we could stay longer,” Harry said regretfully.

  “Me too, but I understand. Christmas break isn’t part of your vocabulary. I remember.”

  “Weekend hardly is either,” Harry joked. “So, how’re you doing?”

  Angela’s countenance smoothed over a touch. She didn’t want Harry to think she was brushing him off. “I’m okay. I’m happy most days, just like any other normal person, I guess. We all have our things that get us down in the dumps, right?”

  “S’pose so. Is the insurance drama over?”

  Angela groaned. “Not yet. They write every couple of months saying they’re denying more claims. Nothing huge, it
’s just…I’m trying to move on, you know? I’m trying to start a new life here, and that’s hard to do when I’m forced to think about all of that.”

  “Do you need some help?” Harry offered.

  “No, it’s not really a burden, but thank you. So how about you? How are you holding up?” Angela asked.

  “Like I said, work’s a blessing,” Harry said. “I miss him dearly, but…life goes on.”

  Angela turned naturally away from Harry, sucking in her lips and feeling her eyes and cheeks heat up. While she wasn’t necessarily afraid to cry in front of Harry, the idea of melting down in front of company in general—company she’d eagerly awaited for weeks—wasn’t too appealing.

  “For what it’s worth,” Harry said, treading lightly, “I think Vince would’ve loved this place.”

  Angela rinsed a plate and nodded enough for Harry to see; she stared straight out the window, seeing her own reflection in the night sky, with Harry’s not too far off in the distance. Realizing he could see her, she ducked down again and wrenched her face up in an attempt to ward off the tears. One thing that imagining Vince’s presence could never do for her was lure her away from the brink of crying, so she thought of everything but him. Charlie’s last report card. Her car’s dire need for an oil change. The dog’s next vet appointment. A movie she wanted to see.

  “So, do you like it here? Be honest.”

  “I do.”

  “You’re supposed to say you love it here,” Harry teased. “That way I don’t have to worry.”

  A smile crept onto her lips. “You said to be honest. But you really don’t have to worry at all. I’m doing fine. It’s hard not to smile with Charlie around.”

  “Then what do you do the other four days of the week?”

  “Think of a reason to get him over here for a few minutes. Read. Watch TV. Work,” Angela said with a simple shrug.

  “Work, huh? I guess I definitely won’t have to worry.” Harry gave Angela a crooked grin. “At least let me help with those dishes.”

  —

  “So,” Sophie said, biting the head off a snowman cookie as she climbed into Angela’s bed; Angela jumped, dropping her book, under the impression that Sophie had already been asleep.

  “So…what?” Angela said, closing her book and setting it in her lap.

  “You’ve got quite the life here,” Sophie said with her mouth full, resting her head on Angela’s shoulder. “Amazing house, cute kid, smelly dog, awesome job. You loving it?”

  Angela found her left hand being captured by Sophie’s. “I’m loving it. I am. It’s finally starting to feel natural.”

  “And how are you holding up?” Sophie asked, twisting Angela’s wedding ring on her finger to specify what she meant.

  “Most days I’m okay…I have bad nights sometimes, and the last couple days with all the decorating and whatnot have been a little harder than usual—Vince loved Christmas and we obviously never had one together—but…other than that, I think I’m doing all right.” She stroked Sophie’s hand to assure her she was being honest. “How about you? Things okay at work? How’re the replacements doing?”

  “You know we don’t call them that. Anyway, they’re doing fine. But they’re no Vince and Angela, in looks or in talent. Although Hirsch may have a thing for Agent Callie Semzak. Not sure. Callie adores me, by the way. She thinks I’m amazing. Not that I’m surprised—I am amazing.”

  “Oh, I miss you so much. Stop making me want to come back,” she whined, pushing out her lower lip like a child.

  “The weather there is awful,” Sophie said quickly with a scrunched nose. “Snow up the wazoo, as always. How you guys aren’t getting any of it is a mystery to me. So much nicer here. I hate you.”

  Angela laughed and slid down so their heads were level. “Much better, thank you.”

  “Ooh, the doggy’s here,” Sophie squealed. “C’mon, puppy, up!” She patted the blankets and the dog hopped up, walking all over their legs until he found the most effective way to put both of the women in pain. “What a cutie. Charlie said Mitch got him?”

  “Yeah, for his birthday,” Angela said.

  “Did Mitch even ask you first?”

  “Yeah, I told him it was okay. What he purposely neglected to tell me, though, was that Jenna does not like dogs. Something Vince mentioned to him a long, long time ago.”

  Sophie gasped. “He did not! Oh, I love him.”

  “Yeah, he thinks he’s hilarious. He’s lucky Jenna knew it was his doing and not mine,” Angela said dryly.

  “You have to admit, it is kind of funny. It’s not like she’s allergic, she’s just weird. Who doesn’t like dogs?”

  “It’s only funny when I’m angry with her, otherwise I feel bad,” Angela admitted. “The dog is a sweetheart, but I would’ve given him back if I had the chance just so it didn’t cause any trouble with Jenna. But Mitch decided to wait until Charlie named the stupid thing before he told me, Oh, by the way, guess who hates dogs…Ugh, what a creep. I’ll get him back, I just haven’t figured out how.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

  —

  It was late on a white Christmas Eve when Mitch arrived by cab from the bus station, unable to avoid work during the day. Angela’s parents had already arrived and were asleep. Charlie was up well past his bedtime, allowed to wait up only long enough to see that his uncle had arrived safely. Mitch ruffled his nephew’s hair and gave him a hug goodnight. Angela assured him that Charlie’s eyes had been drooping all night and that, despite the anticipation of Christmas morning, he would be asleep in no time. So without waiting, they got to wrapping the gifts Mitch had brought along.

  “You didn’t wrap a single one?” Angela whispered as they carried in a few bags full of unwrapped toys from the front porch.

  “I wrapped the stuff for you and Jen. Just twenty more to go,” Mitch said, scooting out of the way when Angela went to smack him.

  “This isn’t Santa’s workshop,” she said with amused annoyance. “I’m not wrapping all of these. I’ll help, but I’m taking the easy ones. Rectangular stuff without holes in the boxes.”

  “Still doin’ the Santa thing, right?”

  “At least one more year,” Angela said as she strung as many bags as she could onto one arm. “That’s what Vince wanted and it’s also a good way to end temper tantrums. From a faith standpoint I don’t love it, but I can’t break Charlie’s heart again just yet. So you actually got Jenna something?”

  “I got her a framed photo of me and a set of darts,” he joked. “And in case she doesn’t like that, I got her a nice clock for her mantle. I’m not a total jerk,” he said, scraping the fresh snow off his shoes on his way inside.

  “Just the guy who gives kids dogs to scare people away from the house.”

  “Hey, she was here tonight for dinner, was she not?” Mitch said challengingly.

  “Only because she can’t bear to tell Charlie that she doesn’t like the dog and because she didn’t want to be rude to my parents.”

  Mitch chuckled. “How’d dinner go, anyway?”

  “It was nice. Quiet. Uneventful. We see each other all the time so it wasn’t really a big deal. We’re doing pretty well, I think. Anyway, she’s coming over in the morning to open presents with us, then we’re all going to church together, then she’s taking Charlie to her aunt’s for Christmas with her side of the family,” Angela rattled off.

  “They didn’t invite you?” Mitch asked teasingly. “I thought you were all chums.”

  Angela gave Mitch a look. Vince’s death had certainly brought them rather close to one another, but his sense of humor still didn’t suit her completely. “We tolerate each other. It’s normal for a kid to have two different sides of the family, though, so I’m not too worried if they don’t end up adopting me.”

  —

  Angela was not surprised to be woken up by a child’s morning breath wafting over her face the next morning. She winced and rolled away mo
mentarily.

  “It’s Christmas,” Charlie practically squealed, bouncing on his heels. The smaller, hairier version of Mitch sat beside his miniature master, panting and thumping his tail against the floor.

  “And it’s five o’clock in the morning,” Angela pointed out.

  “Please, can we open presents now?” Charlie said. “I looked and Santa came.”

  Angela knew she was up for good now anyway, and liked the idea of some time together with just the five of them. “Okay, we can start. But you have to go wake up your uncle first. Go jump on him. He’s sleeping on the couch.”

  “So you mean jump on the couch?” Charlie asked.

  “Nuh-uh, on him. You have my permission.” Angela rolled out of bed and threw on a robe, her feet only knowing one path—the one to the kitchen for coffee. Since her parents were staying, that meant the good stuff was already brewing. “Morning,” she greeted them while Charlie climbed on top of his sleeping uncle.

  “Merry Christmas,” Ruth said, putting down the newspaper and giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

  George did the same. “You seem happy here,” he said lovingly, pulling up a chair next to him and patting it. Angela sat and let her dad sling an arm around her.

  “I am. Especially having everyone here. You’ll have to come for Easter, too.”

  Charlie obeyed Angela’s orders; Mitch came into the kitchen holding his stomach in pain. Charlie took a beeline to the tree and grabbed a present. “Hang on, sweetie. I want you to open a particular one first.” Angela stepped behind the tree and plucked out a box more elegantly wrapped than the rest.

  “Come sit down, it’s fragile,” she said, motioning toward the couch. Mitch, a morning person but not a five o’clock in the morning person, still squinted to get his eyes adjusted to the light while Angela explained the gift. George and Ruth gathered round, too. “Charlie, this is something your daddy wanted you to have. It was his family’s back when he was your age.”

  “Really?” Charlie asked, trying to yank the gold ribbon free. Being only seven, he surprised no one when his face remained blank upon opening the box that didn’t contain something flashy and in need of batteries. A faded illustration of the nativity set graced the top of its wooden container, which Charlie opened to reveal all of the pieces.

  “Setting up the nativity scene was always your dad’s favorite part of Christmas, you know,” Mitch said, a dreamy smile crossing his still sleepy face.

  “Even more than presents?” Charlie asked, eyes widening.

  “Well, maybe after presents.”

  “Don’t let your uncle touch them,” Angela warned. “Your daddy told me he broke one of the Wise Men once—”

  “When I was four,” Mitch interrupted. “But your dad fixed it. You probably can’t even tell which one it was. So, what do you think? Wanna set it up?”

  Enough mentions of Charlie’s father seemed to get him more interested in the family heirloom. He nodded and Mitch pulled a chair up in front of the fire that Angela’s father had started. Charlie set up the porcelain figurines with great care on the mantle, smiled, and turned to Angela and Mitch. “Can I open the rest of my presents now?”

  “One more thing,” Angela said. “I think I left it in my room. I’ll be right back.” She’d remembered finding the shoebox while she’d been going through Vince’s things. He’d hidden it deep within his closet instead of leaving it with his attorney. He’d known Angela would find it. It had contained cards and letters, with instructions for Angela to distribute them on the dates or occasions marked on the envelopes.

  She’d had a few to open so far and she knew them by heart. One envelope had been marked For Angela—when you start to feel like yourself again. She hadn’t had the courage to read it until a month ago. There were others she had cracked open, too, and still plenty waiting to be read—on your birthday; if it seems like God isn’t listening; on our first anniversary; when you need a pick-me-up; when you’ve found your next soul mate (there will be one).

  Of the ones she’d read so far, when you start to feel like yourself again was her favorite. It was the one she repeated to herself whenever she needed a reminder that all the pain had been worth it. She knew it so well that she could even see each scrawl and swoop of Vince’s unpredictable handwriting.

  My Dearest Angela, he’d written, Now that you’ve reached that metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel—what else could I call it? That’s how I’ve always thought of it—I hope your heart is free from all sorrow. I hope that the only memories you keep are good ones, and that you don’t dwell on even those.

  They think I have a few days left as I write this. Maybe a week. We just found out. You think I’m taking a nap, so you’re in the shower, crying, and all I want right now is to hold you and give you some sort of comfort. You don’t deserve this pain. Sometimes when I see just how heartbroken you already are, I wish I could rewind time and stick to my convictions—remain only friends with you.

  But in a few minutes, you’ll probably come into the room and lie down next to me. You’ll kiss the tips of my skinny old fingers and tell me you love me. You’ll kiss me on the lips, too, even though I’m rotting from the inside out. You’ll make me feel human again. You’ll make me remember how amazing it is to be alive despite everything that makes me want to get this all over with sooner, and I’ll realize I probably wouldn’t have had the willpower to stay away from you for long.

  Angela, I can’t picture the last six years, ten months, and twenty-two days of my life without you in them. I know we’ve been married for only a small fraction of that time, and we’ve been a couple for not much longer, but sometimes I feel like we’ve been together for years. Maybe it was all the times you would stick your head into my office and warn me against staying so late, or all the times you would bring me something to eat or even take my work away from me when you knew I was planning to skip lunch and dinner too many days in a row. Maybe it was how you were the only one who was brave enough to tell me that one time my tie didn’t match my shirt (that happened on August 2nd, almost two years ago, in case you’re wondering if I’m petty enough to remember the date). Or maybe it was your face being the first one I saw when I woke up in the hospital in Chicago after you saved my life for the first time.

  Or maybe it’s just the fact that, every time I have been in your presence, I have never felt alone.

  You’ve always taken care of me. I know you’ll have the same attitude with Charlie, so I have no worries for his future in terms of how loved he’ll feel. And now that you’re feeling like yourself again—unless you cheated and read this letter early, in which case, stop reading—I feel comfortable in reiterating my wish for you to find someone. For yourself and for Charlie. And have your own children. Don’t let this phase of your life limit you in the pursuit of your dreams. I’d be a fool to think that I was enough to fulfill them. If a family is still what you want, then put this letter away as soon as you’re finished reading it and open your heart to the idea of someone new. And if no one strikes your fancy, find another way. You deserve to have your every wish come true. You deserve to have your own children, if that’s still what you want.

  Last of all, never grow content in your faith. Keep searching for answers, for help, for those strong arms to wrap you up. But it’s not just about those life-changing moments where you get down on your knees and surrender. It’s not just about obedience, either. It’s about communication and trust. It’s about a relationship—just like ours. And if you give your life to Him, the rewards are limitless. When I think of how perfect our time together has been, even on the most painful of days, I know we would have been infinitely more afraid without the promise of eternal peace ahead. When you know that something better is out there waiting for you, it takes a lot more to shake you. I hope that part of your heart never runs out of room. Steadfast faith lights the darkest of paths. I like to think—actually, I know—that when I finally sought out God in earnest, He was pleased and
rewarded me with the closest thing to a savior that I could see and touch until I got to Him.

  That reward was you. All of you.

  No matter what I might say to you or to others in the coming days, I need to write this down while my hand and my heart will let me:

  I don’t regret us. Sometimes I think I do when I start to feel a little too bitter or sorry for myself, but when I think with a mind not muddled with grief and self-pity, I’m reminded of how much of a blessing you are. I love you, Angie. I love you so much.

  I hear the shower turning off now. Better wrap this up. I hope you come out soon and ask me how I am, so I can tell you, “Far better for having loved you.”

  That will have to be the witty end to this letter. I’ll write more later, I promise. I have so much more to tell you.

  With Love,

  Your Adoring Vincent

  Angela sat against the dresser in her room, finished reciting the letter in her head. She could hear Charlie growing impatient downstairs, but she needed a minute to dry her eyes first. When she finally reappeared to her family and gave Charlie his card, they all gathered around the popping fire so he could read it to them.

  “‘Dear Charlie,’” he said, smiling at his own name, “‘Merry Christmas! As I write this, I’m thinking of our last Christmas together and how special it was. If anyone ever tells you it’s not all about presents, tell them they’re wrong. It’s about the greatest present anyone could ever give. God gave His Son to us. You might not understand how important that is, but trust me. I know what it’s like to love a son. I don’t think I would ever be able to give you up like that. If you haven’t put up the’ n—nat—Angela, what’s that word?”

  “Nativity.”

  “Oh. ‘If you haven’t put up the nativity scene yet, think of me while you do. If you did already put it up, that’s okay. Just know that I was watching you with the world’s biggest smile on my face. I always am. I love you, Charlie. Give everyone a bunch of hugs and kisses for me. Love, Daddy. P.S. Uncle Mitch will break the pieces, so don’t let him help.’”

  There wasn’t a dry-eyed adult to be seen, but Charlie delighted in the encouraging words from his father and dished out the hugs and kisses as instructed. “I know Daddy said Christmas isn’t all about presents, but does that mean I can’t have mine now?”

  Angela laughed and pressed her lips to Charlie’s forehead. “No, you can still have your presents. But do you understand what he said?” He nodded. “Good. Go ahead, then. But not all of them. We have to save something for your aunt to watch you unwrap okay?”

  “I have presents for you and Uncle Mitch, too!” Charlie remembered. “Auntie Jen brought me to the store and let me pick them out. I used my allowance.” He dove deep under the tree and pulled out two messily wrapped boxes that he’d managed to hide from Angela.

  They waited until Charlie was opening his own gifts until they opened theirs. “Oh, Charlie, I love them,” Angela said of the drugstore gemstone earrings that would probably turn her ears green. “I hope you didn’t spend too much. I know you work hard for your money.”

  Charlie didn’t look up from the toy he was inspecting. “They were a lot but it’s okay.”

  “Wow, you managed to find a Cubs hat I don’t have yet. Thanks, kiddo,” Mitch said, ruffling his nephew’s hair.

  The rest of the morning passed by in a torrent of wrapping paper, ribbon, and cardboard boxes, some of which served as more fuel for their toasty fire. It took a few cups of coffee for Mitch to catch up with the rest of the world, but once he did, he was down on the floor, putting together the dreaded toys that needed assembly.

  Angela’s heart warmed whenever she saw Mitch and Charlie together. Though it made her feel Vince’s loss a little more every time they were in the same room, she knew it was good for Charlie to have some sort of father figure in his life. The morning was made even more heartwarming by the fact that Mitch had acted with complete maturity around Jenna, offering no snide remarks, being as cordial as he could without appearing fake. Angela could see right through him, but what was important was that Jenna didn’t feel like a pariah when she joined the Hawkinses and the Glassers to open gifts as one big family.

  A year ago, Angela never thought she would have looked forward to walking inside a church. But she would have been a fool to ignore the fact that almost all of her prayers had been answered over the last several months. The prayers that hadn’t been answered seemed like ones she shouldn’t have made in the first place. If she had gotten her wish of a baby with Vince, for example, leaving an established job and her loved ones wouldn’t have been so easy. She wouldn’t have been able to handle a newborn on her own in a new job that kept her at the office past dinnertime most nights. Following Charlie to Madison might not have been as simple as it had been. And the countless times she’d prayed for Vince’s healing, she’d done so knowing that she wasn’t likely to get her way. God wouldn’t intervene to spare the lives of everyone that was being taken too soon. He could, but he wouldn’t.

  No matter how He had come through, the God by whom Angela had felt abandoned for the better part of her adult life had not let her down in her darkest hour, instead listening to her, rekindling the faith she had once known, even coming to be with her when she’d needed Him most. So it was with a smile on her face that she rushed Charlie into getting ready for church.

  She was even happier to see Mitch doing more than just attending church these days. She never prodded, just prayed for him, and it seemed like her wishes were coming to fruition when he took in-depth notes during sermons. He would even call her up with a faith-related question from time to time. He wasn’t diving in as quickly as she or Vince had been forced to, but he was certainly off to a good start.

  Try as she might to instill in Charlie the real meaning of Christmas, she knew his mind was on nothing but what lay underneath the tree for him at his second celebration of the day. So she cut him loose after service, watching him run across the bright white snow toward his aunt’s car. Immediately, Angela grew anxious for his return.

  “Sorry about the cheap earrings,” Jenna said as they took a slower stroll across the parking lot. “I asked if he wanted me to help him get you something nicer, but he didn’t want my help.”

  Angela shook her head. “No, I love them even more knowing they’re from him. Thank you for taking him.”

  “Of course. Thanks for the clock, Mitch, and the wine, Angela. You’ll have to come drink it with me.”

  Angela smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that. Have a nice Christmas.”

  “You, too. Come on, Charlie.”

  —

  Upon returning to the house, Mitch continued the adventures in putting together a remote control dinosaur as well as other toys Angela figured she would regret buying for Charlie. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” she said. “He’ll have more toys than he’ll know what to do with that can keep him occupied till the fancy stuff gets put together. I’ll get around to it.”

  Mitch shook his head, a screwdriver between his teeth. “It’s all good,” he said.

  “Oh, stop it,” Ruth chided him. “Come play a game of gin rummy with us.”

  Mitch relented to Angela’s mother; Angela had warned him ahead of time that obedience might be wise.

  “So, how are things back home?” George asked Mitch as he dealt.

  “Same old, same old,” Mitch said with a shrug. “Actually, that’s a bit of a lie. I met a really great girl, hoping it goes somewhere.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” Angela said. “I’m so glad to hear that. You should’ve told me sooner.”

  “I would’ve, but I just met her the other day. Trust me, you haven’t missed much.”

  But that didn’t stop Angela and her mother pestering Mitch for more details. Angela’s parents were only good for a couple of games, however, before they deemed themselves in need of a midday nap. Angela didn’t stop them. With dinner in the oven and Mitch off to a convenience st
ore for some forgotten vanilla ice cream, the moment alone was too nice to pass up. Not because Angela was sick of people or because she wanted to wallow. She just wanted time to reflect on the past few months, and if her mind drifted off to Vince, she didn’t want to have to apologize to someone else for it.

  When Charlie got home well after dinner, laden down with toys with which he was too tired to play, he asked to sleep in Angela’s bed. “What’s wrong?” she asked as he climbed in without waiting for an answer. The rest of the house was already quiet.

  “Nothing, I just wanna sleep in your bed tonight,” Charlie said, scooting over to make room for the dog.

  “You don’t want to go bug your uncle?”

  “Nuh-uh, I missed you,” Charlie said.

  “Okay,” Angela said with a serene smile, cocooning Charlie in her arms and planting a kiss on the back of his head. “Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Charlie was out in practically no time and Angela knew she wasn’t too far behind. Lying there with her strongest connection to Vince, she slipped into a pleasantly dreamful slumber.

  “Nice fire today,” Vince said to her. They sat on the couch together in her living room, the fireplace lit brightly a few feet away. “You’re getting better at it.”

  She giggled softly. “My dad did most of it, but thanks.” She sighed, finding his fingers and lacing her own through them. “I like having the portable one in my room. That was a good purchase. Sorry if I laughed at it. I think I did at first.”

  Vince neither confirmed nor denied that. He just waited for Angela to turn in his arms so he could see her face. She finally did, her eyes open wide to his silence.

  He gave her a tender kiss. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you doing so well.”

  “I still miss you…”

  “I know.”

  That hadn’t been the answer Angela had expected. “Do you miss me?” she asked pathetically.

  A pause. “No.”

  Angela’s mouth downturned as she searched the endless depth of Vince’s eyes for an explanation. Nothing hid within them, nothing that she could find. All she saw was pure, unadulterated love.

  It was with perfect simplicity that he said, “I see you every day.”

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  Look for C. M. Newman’s next novel, Tuck, in 2014. Stay connected with C. M. Newman for an official release date!

 

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