Kissing Charlie

by Elsa Winckler

  But Lindsay pointed toward her watch and left with a wave.

  “Is this Charlie Wilson, Bowen therapist?” a woman asked.

  “That’s right. Can I help you?”

  “My name is Anna Davis and I want to make an appointment for my boss for tomorrow, please?”

  Charlie opened up her calendar on her laptop. “Of course. What time? And your boss’ name, please?”

  “Any time in the afternoon?”

  Charlie chewed on her lip. She’d hoped to take tomorrow afternoon off because Gavin would be here. “It’s not possible in the morning?” she tried.

  “I was hoping you have an opening around four o’clock?” Anna insisted. “If that is at all possible?”

  Charlie swallowed her groan. “Of course.”

  “That sounds perfect, thank you. I’ll send you the details!” And before Charlie could respond, Anna had ended the call.

  Charlie typed in “Anna’s boss” on her calendar before she got up. But now she wanted to find out why Lindsay didn’t want to go back to the self-defense classes.

  It was late Thursday afternoon when Logan got back to his office. He was tired and irritated. Meetings were the one aspect of his work he could really do without. Why was there always an idiot hell-bent on sharing his ideas, whether it was on the topic under discussion or not?

  Anna and most of the others had already left. He loosened his tie and sat down, pulling his computer closer. He wanted to get home so he could go for a run. Even if it was only a short one, it should help improve his mood. But first, he wanted to check his calendar and see what his day would look like tomorrow.

  This morning he’d woken up with just one thought, and that was Charlie. He wanted to see her, touch her. He’d been contemplating returning to Alisson again. A crazy, stupid idea, he knew. He couldn’t leave now; he probably had back-to-back appointments and meetings tomorrow. Besides, hadn’t she told him in no uncertain terms he wasn’t part of her plans?

  Since he’d contacted Charlie late Saturday night, he’d forced himself not to send another message or to try to phone her again even though he’d caught himself countless times, grabbing his phone, wanting to share something with her. He had this ridiculous idea that after a few days he’d have forgotten all about her. As if anyone could ever forget Charlie once they’d met her. Just another thing this week that hadn’t worked out as planned.

  A few minutes later, he jumped up, scowling and cursing a blue streak. Damn interfering woman! Anna had scheduled his first meeting for seven o’clock, damn it to hell. She knew how he hated those very early meetings. And she’d cleared his calendar for the rest of the day. There it was in black and white—he had an appointment with Charlie Wilson, Bowen therapist in Alisson at four o’clock.

  His phone rang. It was his mother. For a minute, he considered throwing his phone against the wall. The trouble of replacing it would be considerably easier than having to deal her.

  “Mom.” He was curt and rude but at this point he didn’t care. Why the hell was everyone suddenly interfering in his life?

  “Oh, dear. It’s your I’m-the-boss voice. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Why are you phoning?”

  “Can’t I just phone my son?”

  Exasperated, he rubbed his face. “Yes, Mom, of course you can.”

  “That’s much better. I’m so happy you’re coming home this weekend! That’s why I’m phoning. It was so lovely to hear from Anna! We didn’t see her the last time we were in Seattle. And I can’t tell you what a relief it is to know your back is better. You are absolutely doing the right thing by returning for more sessions with the lovely Charlie. I’m so thrilled. I’ve bought all the ingredients today and will be cooking your favorite chicken pie tomorrow.”

  “Mom, please, no!” he finally managed to get a word in. His mother, bless her soul, was the worst cook, not that this technicality ever stopped her from trying.

  “You don’t like my cooking?”

  “It’s...not that,” he managed. “Let me take you and Brooke out to dinner and—”

  “Oooh, that sounds absolutely divine. A fabulous new restaurant has just opened. I’ll book a table for us right away. Have a safe trip!” And before he could say goodbye, she’d put the phone down.

  He sighed, realizing he’d been conned again. By his own mother. She’d probably made the booking already. He walked toward the big window. The view from here, over the city, was breathtaking, but today he barely noticed anything.

  Charlie. She was all he thought about. He’d missed important details in the meeting that afternoon, all because he wasn’t paying attention the whole time, a first for him.

  He was going to see Charlie tomorrow. He’d be able to touch her, smell her. kiss her, hold her...

  Swearing, he grabbed his jacket and car keys. What the hell was he thinking? It had been four whole days. He should’ve been over this damn crush by now, because a crush was all it could be. But here he was, dreaming about Charlie in broad daylight!

  He should remember what she wore, her cluttered, colorful house, the countless bangles, for crying out loud. But as he drove home, all he could recall were her smile, the look in her eyes after he’d kissed her, the soft curve of her breasts, and her long, silky arms around his neck.

  Swearing loudly, he sped home. And just before he turned into the block of apartments where he lived, he was finally able to give a name to the emotion in his chest—he was excited. He was going to see Charlie tomorrow and he was thrilled. Go figure. Resigned, he shook his head.

  Chapter 9

  Charlie checked her watch as she hurried home. It was nearly six o’clock. Lindsay had finished earlier that day, and when Gavin phoned to say he’d be arriving around five o’clock, her sister had taken the car so someone would be at home to welcome him.

  She loved walking. There was a time, right after the accident in which her parents were killed, when she hadn’t known whether she’d ever be able to walk again. But with Lindsay’s encouragement and the help of a wonderful Bowen therapist, she’d beaten the odds and had found her true calling.

  As a nursing sister, she’d seen so many people struggling with pain and after she’d discovered the many ways in which the Bowen technique helped relieve pain, she’d known that this was what she’d wanted to do with the rest of her life.

  It was another gorgeous summer’s day, and smiling, Charlie inhaled the fresh air. After sunny South Africa, the harsh long and cold Montana winters were something she and Lindsay struggled with at first. Although they’ve learned to embrace the joys of winter, she always looked forward to summer.

  She loved the long, gentle days—they reminded her of the simpler times of their childhood—when their parents were still alive, before abusive boyfriends and big decisions changed their lives forever.

  As she briskly walked home, she encountered several people along the way who were either running or walking. Some wanted to chat; others waved while continuing their exercise.

  When she and Lindsay had arrived here two years before, the town’s people hadn’t immediately accepted the two strangers in their midst, but slowly and with Eleanor and Brooke’s help, they now finally felt as if they belonged here. They were happy.

  But now, within the span of a few days, their peaceful new life had been thrown into turmoil. Although Lindsay hadn’t heard anything again from her ex-boyfriend, she was on edge. The telltale dark circles under her eyes confirmed she wasn’t sleeping properly, and she never quite relaxed—her eyes kept darting around.

  And then there was Logan. After Saturday night’s messages, she hadn’t heard from him again, but to her utter dismay, she’d caught herself checking her phone every so often. It was driving her crazy.

  She’d been trying all week to understand why someone so completely unsuited for her would fill her mind and thoughts to such an extent she hardly slept, she had no appetite and—and this was the pits—she missed him. How could that be possible?
She’d seen him four times. Four. Okay, each encounter had been...exceptional, but still. Pining for a man was so not something she wanted to be doing.

  Still deep in thought, she turned to walk down the street where she and Lindsay lived. Something cold touched her spine. She stopped. Something was wrong. A strange uneasiness settled in her gut. Quickly she glanced up and down the street.

  It was quiet. There was no movement and she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary except... A small white car was parked on the opposite side of where she was walking. It didn’t belong to anyone living in the street. It didn’t look as if there was anyone in the car, but the windows were dark, so it was difficult to be sure.

  Quickly, she crossed the street. As she neared the car, however, it started and before she could reach it, it sped away. Startled, she stared after the car. Who would...? Cold fingers clutched her throat. Mark Taylor? She wouldn’t put anything beyond that horrible man.

  Looking over her shoulder, she hastened home. She was so glad Gavin was here, and hopefully he could help her persuade Lindsay to continue with the self-defense classes. For some or other reason, her sister was very adamant about not going back, but hopefully after she’d heard about this incident, she’d realize how necessary it was for her to continue to learn to defend herself. What a dreadful notion, though, that it was necessary to learn to defend oneself against a man.

  Why did men hurt women? Not always with violence, but also with words. Mark’s abusive language had nearly destroyed Lindsay’s self-image, and the way Toby had dismissed Charlie because she couldn’t give him kids was hurtful, even now. He’d been so nice, initially. His true colors had only been revealed when he’d discovered she couldn’t fall pregnant.

  The front door opened as she neared the house and there was Gavin. She laughed, and opening her arms, she ran toward her brother. Her brother was one of the good guys. Like their dad, he was a caretaker and a nurturer. Next time she fell for someone, she was going to make sure she picked a man like him.

  He hugged her tightly against him and for a moment she inhaled his familiar aftershave. “I’m so, so glad you’re here.” She sighed and gave him another hug before she smiled up at him.

  But he knew her too well. “What happened?”

  Lindsay appeared in the hallway behind Gavin.

  “Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you about it. But I think we all need a glass of wine.”

  “I’ve made lasagna, Gavin’s favorite,” Lindsay said, turning away but not before Charlie noticed the worried frown.

  Charlie ached for her sister. Maybe she shouldn’t tell Lindsay about the car she’d seen. But she quickly dismissed the thought. Her sister needed to know what was going on. Maybe then she’d consider continuing with the classes.

  “Great. Gav—will you pour the wine, please? Take a seat when you’re done; I’ll quickly make a salad.”

  Gavin poured the wine and soon they were sitting around the table, enjoying Lindsay’s lasagna.

  “Okay, so why were you freaked out when you got home?” Gavin asked.

  Charlie put her hand on her sister’s arm. “I’m not quite sure what I’ve seen, but yeah, I think I’m a little freaked out.” She told them about the white car in the street.

  “But maybe it’s nothing,” Charlie added quickly when Lindsay inhaled sharply. “It could be an innocent visitor who was taking a drive around the village—it happens.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  “I’m not sure...” Before she could complete her sentence, the doorbell rang. Charlie looked at Lindsay. “You’re expecting anyone?”

  Lindsay shook her head. “It could be Brooke or Eleanor...”

  “It would be lovely to see them.” Charlie smiled. “Gav, get more glasses; they’re probably here to check you out.”

  “Who’s Brooke and Eleanor?” Charlie heard him ask Lindsay as she quickly walked to the front door.

  It was indeed their two friends and little Connor. Brooke had a bottle of wine in one hand. “Mom insisted on coming to meet your brother.” She grimaced.

  “Come in, come in. We’re still eating, but there’s more than enough for you, as well.” She bent down to the little boy. “I’m so glad you’ve come to visit. Come say hi to Lindsay.”

  “You still have the cars I can play with?” the little boy asked as they walked back to the kitchen.

  “Yes, of course I have; they’ve been waiting for you. Let me get them for you.” She pointed toward Gavin. “This is my brother Gavin. Gavin, meet Connor.”

  Gavin stood up before he extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Connor.”

  After hesitating for a second, the little boy put out his hand. “My daddy died,” he said.

  Brooke gasped. “Connor...”

  Gavin looked solemnly at the little boy while they shook hands. “I’m sorry. That hurts, doesn’t it? My daddy also died.”

  Connor stepped forward and put his arms around Gavin’s legs. A little awkwardly, Gavin patted his back.

  “Gavin,” Lindsay said, “this is Connor’s mom, Brooke, and his grandma, Eleanor.”

  Gavin bent and picked Connor up before he extended his hand. “Lindsay has just been telling me how you helped them when they arrived here.”

  But Eleanor ignored his hand. She rushed forward and embraced him. “It’s wonderful to meet you! We’re so glad you were able to visit now.”

  “Mommy, you should also hug Gavin,” Connor demanded, his one arm placed around Gavin’s shoulders.

  Everyone laughed while Brooke stepped forward and gave Gavin a quick hug.

  Lindsay brought extra plates, Gavin poured more wine, and Charlie found the box of old toys she kept when friends with kids visited. They’d barely begun to eat when the doorbell rang again.

  Lindsay’s eye’s widened, and Charlie put her hand on her sister’s shoulder as she got up. “He’s too much of a wimp to knock on our door, relax.” Quickly, she walked to the front door and opened it.

  “Hi, Charlie.” It was Blake Davidson, the martial arts instructor.

  “Blake?” Charlie got out, surprised and a bit wary to see him. Why was he here?

  “You and Lindsay weren’t at the dojo tonight. I...uhm, I wanted to check whether everything is okay? I believe there have been some trouble. Eleanor mentioned—”

  “Blake!” Eleanor called out from behind Charlie. “Come on in—I’m sure there is more than enough food for you as well.”

  Charlie’s suspicion evaporated, and she smiled. If Eleanor didn’t find it strange that Blake had knocked on their door, then it was okay. “Come on in,” Charlie said, much friendlier than before.

  “Oh, but I didn’t...” he began, but Eleanor pulled him inside and closed the door.

  “Come on, you can try and persuade Lindsay to continue with your classes.” Charlie uttered the last words as they entered the kitchen again.

  “Gavin, meet Blake, the new martial arts instructor in town. Lindsay, explain to him why you don’t want to continue with his classes. Blake, there’s an empty chair next to Lindsay,” she motioned. “Wine?” she asked as he sat down.

  “Thank you, yes. But let me help?”

  “It’s fine.” Charlie smiled, glancing at Lindsay, who had had gone very quiet since Blake’s arrival.

  Connor had been playing on the carpet, but with a car clutched in each hand, he approached the table again, his eyes on Blake. “Who’s the man, Mommy?”

  Blake got up and crouched down in front of Connor. “I’m Blake. I’m new in town.”

  “I’m Connor.”

  Blake also shook the little boy’s hand and Charlie quickly glanced at Lindsay. Growing up, they were used to gentle, caring men. And of course, initially, that was the only side of Mark they’d seen when Lindsay had introduced him to her for the first time. It had only been afterward that he’d gradually started chipping away at her self-confidence until she’d lost every ounce of her self-esteem.

  Gavin wait
ed until Connor was playing with the cars again before he cleared his throat. “I assume you all know about the threatening message Lindsay received from her psycho ex-boyfriend last Friday?”

  “Gavin, no, please...” Lindsay interrupted.

  “I’ve told Blake what has happened,” Eleanor said. “This is a small town and we all look out for each other.”

  Gavin stretched out his hand and patted Lindsay’s arm. “The more people know what’s going on, the better. This is not something you should be ashamed of, sis. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

  Charlie hugged her sister. “Gavin is right, Linds. It makes sense to tell our friends so that everyone can be on the lookout.”

  Blake held up his hands and turned to Lindsay. “I don’t think I fall under the category of friends...yet. Would you prefer it if I leave?”

  Lindsay threw her hands in the air. “I seriously don’t see why you’d be interested—”

  “I’m...interested,” Blake interrupted curtly.

  Not even trying to hide her irritation, Lindsay sighed. “It’s an ex-boyfriend from South Africa. He...didn’t like it when I broke it off.”

  “And he’s an abusive son of a—” Gavin began heatedly.

  Lindsay put her hand on his arm to stop his rant.

  “The message you’ve received—it was from him?” Blake asked her.

  Lindsay nodded.

  “And then tonight,” Gavin said, “Charlie saw a strange car on this street. When she approached it, it sped away quickly.”

  “But I don’t know if it was Mark,” Charlie added quickly, worried about Lindsay’s pallor.

  Eleanor, bless her heart, lifted her glass. “Let’s talk about happy things. I’ve booked a table at the new restaurant for us for tomorrow evening and I’m hoping you’ll all join us?”

  Brooke raised her eyebrows. “What a lovely idea, Mom.”

  Charlie turned to ask Lindsay what she thought, but her sister and Blake were in a heated, whispered discussion. Before she could ask Lindsay if she was happy to go to dinner the following evening, Blake stood up. “Thanks for the wine, and dinner. I have to go.”