“Coming from you, that is a high compliment.”
They sat in silence for a few precious minutes, neither of them wanting to break the embrace.
“Charlie, what was your childhood like?” she whispered, wanting to prolong the intimacy and needing to change the subject.
She listened to his soft breathing as he hesitated for a moment. “You want to know about me starting that far back?” She heard the playful tone in his voice.
“I want to know everything about you, Charlie,” she replied seriously, then added, “I think you’re a remarkable man, and I’m sure your parents must have been wonderful to have instilled in you such integrity. Why don’t you start by telling me about them?”
He sighed deeply, while continuing to stroke her hair. “My mother,” he exhaled, with a thoughtful pause. “Well, let’s just say, if she’d been Catholic, she probably would have been a nun. She was a fine woman.”
“Irish, and you weren’t Catholic?” She was surprised.
“No, I was born an only child into a Protestant family, and had a privileged upbringing. My father was a gentleman, although, quite frankly, he did a bit of gambling… none of us understood just how seriously he was involved in it until after he died.”
“How old were you?”
“I was attending Trinity College in Dublin when I received word, so I suppose I was around twenty.”
“That’s still a young age to lose a parent. I’m sorry, Charlie.”
“Thank you,” he said, wrapping his arms more snugly around her.
After a moment of silence, she encouraged him. “Please continue.”
“Indeed, his death was sudden—taking us all by surprise, but I learned more about him after he was gone than I’d ever known while he was living. You see, when I came home for his funeral, just the day after he was laid to rest, my mother and I were confronted by my father’s… let’s say, for lack of a better term, dubious creditors, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I understand. Go on.”
“Well, they took everything, as my father’s debts exceeded our estate assets. There had already been a lien placed on the property, which my father had kept secret for quite some time. In the end, even the house furnishings had to be sold to satisfy the creditors. It all happened so suddenly. My mother was forced to go live with her sister in Westport and, after I saw her settled, I couldn’t afford to continue my schooling, so I headed for the coast and took the first ship to America I could get.”
She was fascinated, as this was the first time he’d opened up about his life, and she wanted to know everything about him, to put together all the pieces, for one day she would tell Matty about this incredible man who came into their lives just when they needed him most. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
“Actually, I’m not,” he answered, squeezing her and planting a kiss on the top on her head. “I’ve had quite an adventure, you know. I think had I gone on in the lifestyle to which I’d become accustomed, I would have eventually become an unsufferable bore.”
“Oh no. Not you,” she protested. “I can’t imagine you being like that.”
He laughed. “Oh, you should have seen me then, Suzie. I was quite the dandy. I’m not sure you would have even liked me. I started out with the attitude that only the best would do. Yet before I even stepped foot on this continent, I learned what it was like to be without.”
“Was it a rough journey?”
“Well, not so much the journey itself. You see, I was suddenly cast into a class distinction I hadn’t really been exposed to before. As far as anyone on board was concerned, I was nothing more than a poor emigrant, looking for a new start in America.”
“Were there a lot of people coming here then?” Her own question made her realize she was getting a first-hand history lesson from a person who lived through actual events. It was a fascinating thought, even if a bit daunting; for to know this incredible man and his story was far beyond anything she’d ever been taught or had experienced. And she wanted to know all of him.
“The ship was full, or nearly, to the best of my knowledge, yet how many were emigrating, I’m not sure. I’d say most of the passengers aboard in first class were probably made up of tourists and those who had business affairs to conduct in America. I could only afford a single bunk in a steerage cabin, which I shared with five other men.”
“Ah,” she interjected knowingly. “That’s where you met Mitch.”
“Yes. He was younger, more green than myself, and I sort of took him under my wing. Not that I was much better, mind you, but if I put on my best manners, I could talk to the stewards, and finagle an extra ration of dried beef on the occasion. You can’t imagine what steerage was like. Dreadful. But we decided we would make our fortune in this grand new land and filled ourselves with fairy tales of wealth. Such were the stories bandied about of America’s opportunities. And we believed them, every one of us. When we landed in New York, we thought for certain we could attain good positions and better ourselves. There were signs everywhere: ‘No Negroes or Irish need apply.’ I found out what it meant to be Irish in America. And an Irishman without money was even worse.”
Listening, Suzanne could almost see it in her head. Steerage. Hope. Disillusionment. Slums. Prejudice. She had never really paid attention to what her ancestors, everyone’s ancestors, went through to come to this country and make a new life. What courage it must have taken just to leave everyone and everything familiar, to cross an ocean and venture into the unknown. She was uncertain about leaving the state!
“We heard there was work in the coal mines for the Irish, but neither Mitch nor I could see ourselves digging in the ground to stay alive. It took some time, but I eventually got us associated with a group of fellows who were moving on west, for the slums of New York were horrendous. Some of the boys were worse off than the Irish at home. But I remembered everything I had learned while I was in New York. I could see where there was money to be made. A day out of New York and I saw land, so fertile and rich with potential. I actually could see, in my mind’s eye, the acres of apple and peach trees. I wanted it. I wanted to make it happen. It’s what drove me as Mitch and I made our way west, working at ranches, being drovers for cattle drives. But there was no real money in it unless you owned the herd, so we came back east. Then Prohibition hit. I saved every bit that I could running bootleg whiskey and I invested in the stock market—in the Edison Light Company, Bell Telephone, railroads, and the oil fields of Pennsylvania and Texas. Regular Western Union dispatches kept me informed of my earnings.”
“Your scoundrel days,” she said with a smile.
“Yes, lass, my scoundrel days,” he said, patting her back in agreement. “I’m not too proud of that time, but I did what I did, and I’ll not apologize for it now.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think you have to, since the law was repealed. You weren’t a gangster, like Al Capone, were you?”
He laughed. “A gangster? I drove a truck.”
“And Mitch was with you?”
“We were living in Jersey City. Whereas I was saving everything I could, Mitch was living the high life—spending it as fast as he made it, and there was plenty of money to be made. I was driving a truck of whiskey across the Canadian border when word came to me that Mitch had been arrested. It was only when I arrived back in New York that I found out what had happened. He was always the fool when it came to drink, and had been bragging about the small fortune he was making. It wasn’t long before he was being followed and when he was making a delivery, he was arrested. After a quick trial, he was sentenced to two years, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. But I felt guilty, for I had gotten him into it, filling his head with my own dreams.”
“Charlie, it’s not your fault he was caught.”
“I know that now, but by the time he was released I had already purchased the land here in Mount Laural, and I wrote to him, asking him to be my partner, just like we’d alw
ays planned.”
“Then what happened? Why did he shoot you?”
“I don’t know. Greed, perhaps. Spending those two years in jail had hardened him. I could see it when he finally showed up. He was a changed man and he’d lost everything. I bought him a new suit. Grace even cut his hair. We did what we could…”
“Grace? That was the woman you were going to marry?”
He didn’t speak for a few moments, and Suzanne patiently waited.
Finally he said, “Yes. I had asked her to be my wife.”
“Can you tell me about her? It’s all right if you don’t want to. I’ll understand.”
Sighing deeply, he said, “She was a good woman. She had a heart of gold and would take in a stray cat or an injured bird. I guess that’s why she tried so hard with Mitch. She could see he was injured inside. She had the gentlest hands. That day, the morning all this happened, she had given me and Mitch a haircut, and again I was reminded of how gentle and sweet she was.”
“You must have loved her very much.” It was okay to say it, to admit to herself that Charlie had loved another.
His hand stopped stroking her hair. “It was time for me to dig in roots and settle down, to become the man I knew I was capable of becoming. I wanted a family. I wanted stability… and Grace loved me. It’s hard for me to admit this, but I don’t think I loved her. I know I didn’t love her the way she loved me, but I was sure that given time I would grow into it as we made our home and family together. She was a good woman. And I’m sorry I must have hurt her by disappearing from her life.”
He didn’t think he had loved Grace. That admission stirred threads of excitement and gratitude. She allowed him his moment of reflection, stroking his arm and shoulder with compassion. She knew what it was like to lose and how hard it can be to let go. They sat in silence, listening to the crackle of the burning wood as memories came alive and then faded.
“So when did Mitch shoot you?” she asked gently.
“The third day after he came. I took him to the land I had recently bought, telling him all my plans for this grand orchard. Informing him of the contacts I had already made for distribution. I sketched out everything. Within five years I knew I could make a profit.” He paused, as though willing himself to relive a painful experience. “We were walking across the railroad trestle when he suddenly pulled out a gun and demanded the deed to the land. I couldn’t believe he was serious, but when he shoved that gun into my chest I knew he wanted everything. He wanted my life. So I jumped, figuring I’d rather take my chances in the water. I heard a shot. I felt a burning at my temple. I guess the bullet grazed me. I saw this light as I fell and the next thing I knew I was looking into your eyes.”
He sounded so sad, she raised her face and smiled. “And then you came into my life. I’m so sorry you lost everything and Mitch betrayed you, but I’m so grateful, Charlie, for you being here now.”
“Yes,” he whispered with a smile. “Here and now. Wherever I find myself. That’s where my life is… in this twenty-first century, with all these marvelous inventions and—”
“With me?” she asked hopefully, unable to stop the big grin from appearing on her face.
He shook his head and laughed. “You never give up, do you?”
“Not when it’s something this important,” she answered.
“I’m still going to leave, Suzanne. I’ve made up my mind.”
“I understand that. I think you should go out there into the world and see if you can find what you’re seeking. I know now I can’t keep you here and you’d be unhappy if you remained. Just promise me you’ll stay in touch. Call me. Write to me.” She took a deep breath and added what was in her heart. “Come back to me, if you can.”
“I won’t ask you to wait.”
“So you’re not asking.”
“I want you to get on with your life.”
“Do you think I have any other choice, with Matty in it now? I have to keep going.”
“I’ll miss the lad,” he whispered, looking at the dying flames of the fire.
“We’re going to take pictures tomorrow,” she pronounced. “I want Matty to remember you. And I guess I’m selfish too. I want them for myself.”
“Whatever you want, love. Now let me throw another log onto the fire.”
She moved, allowing him to get up and tend the flames. Watching him, she smiled, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. He called her his love again. She didn’t want to make a big deal of it. It could be just an endearment, but it sounded heavenly to her ears.
So he was leaving. The thought settled into her mind as she rose from the sofa and walked up behind him. No longer did she feel she had to hold back, for she didn’t know when or if she would ever see him again. Slipping her arms around his waist as he looked into the fire, she leaned her head against his back and whispered, “It’s okay to say I’m going to miss you, isn’t it?”
He turned around and took her into his arms. Looking deep into her eyes, he smiled sadly. “I’m going to miss you, too. More than I can ever express. You’ve been my savior, my teacher, my mentor… my friend. Perhaps the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“I don’t want to be your teacher or your friend right now,” she said, lowering her body and pulling on his hand for him to follow her. “I want you to hold me tonight. I want to be as close to you as you’ll allow. Give me tonight, Charlie. Give me this memory.”
He came to her and gathered her into his arms as they laid in front of the fire. She could feel the heat from the flames on her back and the length of his body as he pulled her into him. Leaning up on his elbow, he stroked her hair and looked down to her. “I’ll not make love to you, lass,” he murmured. “For to do so would break my heart when I left.”
“Then just stay here with me like this. It’s enough… for now.”
They spent the night in each other’s arms, talking, sharing stories, sharing a lifetime of memories. She fell asleep and awoke when she felt a slight draft at her back. Turning her head she saw that the fire was out. Slowly she turned in the other direction and saw him sleeping—so soundly, so peacefully. The light from the kitchen illuminated his face, and she gazed at his features. He was the most handsome man that had ever been in her life. But it wasn’t his great looks that had attracted her. It was his soul. He wasn’t perfect. He was a good, decent man, who knew how to be a scoundrel when he had to be. She knew, somehow, that he would be all right when he left. After listening to his stories, she was confident that he would make it. She only hoped that he found whatever it was he was seeking and came back to her one day.
For she now knew she loved him.
He must be chilled, she thought, and realized how protective she was of him. Even if she had to let him go in less than two weeks, she was going to spoil him until then. Easing out of his embrace, she crawled away and forced herself into a standing position. Her muscles ached from sleeping on the rug, and she stretched them as she quietly walked toward the stairs. She would check on Matty and then bring the down comforter from her bed. Grinning as she walked upstairs, she thought she hadn’t made out and cuddled with a man like that since college. Somehow it was even better than making love, for the closeness they had achieved was remarkable, surpassing any other relationship, male or female, in her life. They were friends who loved each other.
Although he hadn’t said the words, and neither did she, it was love they had shared last night. She would cherish the memory and fold it in along with others they had made.
Matty was fine and, as she tiptoed from the nursery, she thought back again to Charlie’s story. What an exceptional man, and she knew now why he understood her loss and the pain of betrayal. He had lost a friend and left a woman. Grace. It was a common enough name, yet as she was about ready to pull the comforter from the bed, she turned instead to her closet. In the bottom of it, in the corner, was Kevin’s grandmother’s chest. It was a tad small, so Suzanne never really used it. The sweet old woman had giv
en it to her, filled with the most beautifully embroidered pillowcases. She had always meant to use them, but wanted, to save them for a special occasion… and then she had forgotten about them.
Realizing she wanted to pack it to take with her, for it was Matty’s great-grandmother’s, Suzanne picked it up and brought it to the bed. She wrapped the big comforter around it and took it all downstairs with her into the kitchen.
She set the oak chest on the kitchen table so she would remember to have Charlie pack it and took the comforter into the living room. Spreading it over him, he shifted his position and murmured, “Where did you go?”
“I just wanted to check on Matty,” she whispered back, crawling in next to him and snuggling into the warmth of his chest as she pulled the comforter around them both.
Held in his arms, listening to his breathing and the sure beat of his heart, Suzanne closed her eyes and knew, no matter what happened, right here, right now, she was happy. It was with that thought she fell back into a dreamless sleep— sure of the love within her heart.
“Suzanne!”
Startled, she jerked awake, her heart pounding, trying to figure out where she was. The fireplace was dark and cold. The light was coming in through the windows.
“Suzanne!”
“What?” she demanded, recognizing Charlie’s voice. “Is it Matty?” she asked, throwing off the comforter and trying to get up. God, she must be out of shape for her muscles to be rebelling so much.
“Where did you get this?”
She attempted to focus on him and what he was holding. It was the chest she had put on the table last night. “I’ve had it for years. I wanted to have it packed. Is Matty all right?”
He was staring at the box as though he couldn’t believe what he was holding.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to wake up completely and coming closer to him when she saw his hands were shaking. “Charlie, what is wrong?”
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