I decided then to name them after Scarlett and Rhett, from Gone With the Wind.
They were the only ones who slept in our house that night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
* * *
Reese
The Friday after the conference, I finally got time alone with Charlie again.
“This is so nice,” Charlie said, carefully sitting down on the blanket I’d just laid out for us.
She tilted her head up toward the sun, the rays of it casting her face in a warm glow as she peeled off her light scarf and extended her legs. They were bare under her flowy skirt, one that was modest, cut under the knees. But she hiked it up a little, getting some sun on her thighs, and I couldn’t help but stare as I took a seat next to her.
“I’m just glad I could steal you away,” I said, opening the reusable bag I’d packed for us that morning.
She glanced at me, her eyes softening. “Me, too.”
It was a beautiful day, a sneak peek of what spring would be like once it was in full swing in Pennsylvania. The sun was warm, though it was chilly in the shade, so I packed a picnic for Charlie and me and convinced her to eat outside with me.
It’d been too long since I held her.
Five days shouldn’t feel like forever, but with her, it always did. I knew she was going home to Cameron every night, and while hearing that he was barely talking to her should have made me feel better, it didn’t. Regardless of how he used his time, he still got to have every night with her, while I only had the minutes I managed to steal her away at school.
Blake living with me made it nearly impossible to see Charlie after school.
And though we spent as much time as we could together while we were at Westchester, there wasn’t much time to go around. We’d get to school early when we could, have our coffee together and talk, and then we’d see each other at lunch — but even then, we were surrounded by other teachers.
Yesterday, I’d scouted the campus until I found a sunny spot behind the music center — one no one would walk by unless they were cutting behind the school, which wouldn’t make sense. It was shorter to go the front way, and the back didn’t have any sidewalks or paths to walk. It was just a little sunny hill with a few trees lining the fence.
It wasn’t much, but it could be ours.
I only unpacked the grapes before I couldn’t resist touching Charlie any longer.
Popping the top on them, I offered a red one to her, and once it was in her mouth, I pulled her into me. She giggled, adjusting herself until she was comfortable in my grasp, and then, we both sighed.
I’d seen her. We’d had a little time together. But it wasn’t the same as this — having her in my arms, in a place no one else existed, with no one else watching.
“How’s this?”
She sighed again, folding her arms over where mine held her. “Perfect.”
“Yeah?”
Charlie leaned a little to the left, just so she could tilt her eyes up to meet mine. “Yeah. It’s nice to get outside, to be away from everyone.” She shrugged. “Especially since being at home isn’t exactly easy right now, either.”
I kissed her nose, holding her in my arms as I balanced my chin on her head. She picked up another grape and her eReader, and I held her as she read, letting my mind wander.
I knew she was having a rough week.
She was still going home to Cameron every night, but from what she’d told me, they barely talked. He was more of the man he’d been when I first showed up, and while that worked in my favor, it seemed to kill Charlie.
Which, in turn, killed me.
I didn’t know how to help her. Sometimes I’d let her talk about him, about how she was feeling, and pretend it didn’t feel like she was dragging a rusty blade down my back. Most of the time, I’d tell her I was sorry and that it would all be okay, all the while secretly wishing Cameron would continue to be a dumb ass.
Charlie was sticking to her word, giving him the time she’d promised, and he was wasting it.
I wasn’t surprised.
It couldn’t have felt good, seeing Charlie in my arms that day we’d come home from the conference. I remembered what it felt like the night I saw him kiss her at her parents’ house after we’d had dinner, and that was only my first week back in town.
But I wasn’t sorry, and I refused to back off to give him the comfort and time he wanted. Just like he wasn’t going down without a fight, neither was I.
“How are the birds?” I asked after a while.
Charlie put her eReader away, sitting up to face me. “They’re so sweet. I love them. They remind me a lot of Jane and Edward, but they have their own personalities.” She chuckled. “I’ll say this — Scarlett is even more feisty than Jane was, and she’s definitely the leader. Wherever she goes, Rhett follows.”
I smiled, though it hurt. She was happy — those birds made her happy — but I hadn’t given them to her. They’d been a gift from Cameron, along with an entire aviary.
I couldn’t do things like that for her.
Not yet.
But, one day, I vowed that I would. I’d build her the house of her dreams, and fill it with whatever she wanted — books, birds, baby grand pianos. Hell, if she wanted a moat, I’d dig it myself — just to make her feel like the queen she was in my eyes.
“Are you ready to eat?”
She nodded. “I’m starved.”
Smiling, I dug through the bag, pulling out the sandwiches I’d made us. I passed one over to Charlie, and she laughed as soon as she unwrapped it.
“Stop it! Is this a Fluffernutter?”
“What else do you have at a picnic?” I asked incredulously.
Her eyes were wide as she unwrapped the rest of it, giggling as the white marshmallow goo dripped onto her fingers. “Oh, my God. I’m so excited. I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
I unwrapped mine as she took her first bite, and as soon as she did, her eyes rolled back until she closed them completely, a sated moan leaving her lips.
“Ohmahgawd,” she said around the mouthful. “Thish ish heaven.”
It was my turn to laugh.
I took my own first bite just as she smacked her lips together. “It’s stickier than I remember.”
Digging into the bag, I pulled out another old favorite — a little plastic bottle of red Kool-Aid.
Her eyes lit up again, and she snatched it out of my hands eagerly.
“I feel ten again!”
“But with bigger boobs.”
She laughed, almost spitting out her first sip. When she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a grin was left behind it.
“Best picnic ever.”
“I’m glad I could make you smile. I just wish I could see you more.”
Her eyes softened then, and that very smile I was thankful for slipped away.
She took another bite, an easy silence falling between us. And I knew in that moment, she was thinking about him.
It was killing her, being torn between the two of us, and I hated that I couldn’t take that pain away. He’d asked her for more time, and she was giving it to him. All I could do was hold her hand through it, and remind her that — if she chose me — happiness was less than a month away.
So, I reached over for her eReader, pulling back up the book she’d been reading, and with a mouth full of Fluffernutter, I picked up with the top line.
Charlie laughed, swatting at my leg, but then she leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder as I continued reading in a more serious tone.
And that’s how easy it was.
We just sat there in the sun, eating sandwiches and reading together, and it felt like everything was right in the world. Charlie was my home, and I was hers. It was that simple, even though the world we lived in seemed so chaotic.
As long as we were together, it didn’t matter what we did.
I just hoped we’d actually be t
ogether in the end.
***
Charlie
That Sunday, I took advantage of the nice weather and spent the day in my garden.
The flowers and plants we had adorning the front of our house were beautiful, and I loved the way they drew eyes to our home, but it was my garden in the back that was my pride and joy. Only Cameron and I got to enjoy it, along with our close family and friends, and that was what made me love it even more.
It was like our own little treasure, reserved for our guests and ourselves. We didn’t need to show it off, and for that reason, I could do whatever I wanted back there.
Our back garden expanded throughout the yard, but my favorite part was the little corner near our sunroom. It was where our patio furniture sat, complete with a fire pit that we loved to use in the summer, and it was where I got the most creative with my plants.
In the winter, I watched most of my garden die, knowing only half of it would return once the weather was warmer. Most of it, I’d have to replant, but I didn’t mind. That was what I loved most about gardening — it was a never-ending task.
My garden always needed me, no matter what season it was. Whether it was for sowing, clearing weeds, watering, or just being there to enjoy its beauty, I was necessary for the garden, just as it was necessary for my soul.
Though spring was still far from being in full bloom, I spent that Sunday clearing away the dead plants and flowers, tilling the soil, and using the compost we’d saved to enhance the soil. I still wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to plant for spring and summer, but I had ideas, and I knew that no matter what I chose, the soil needed to be primped and primed.
My mind was free to wander as my hands worked, and as always, it seemed to drift back and forth easily from Reese to Cameron. There was so much to look at and do in the garden that, thankfully, my thoughts couldn’t run too deep. But like a shallow creek, they filtered through me soft and quiet, an ever-present hum within me.
Cameron had pulled back into himself.
After coming home to the aviary, I thought he would open up to me again. I thought he would let me in, continue the connection we’d managed to find during our weekend getaway. But he’d been hurt by seeing me with Reese — and though I couldn’t blame him for that, I also didn’t see it as an excuse.
I had to see him with Natalia, after all, and I’d survived.
But Cameron wasn’t like me. It was hard enough for him to talk at all, and just when he was opening up, he’d seen me in the arms of another man.
I knew it killed him, and that killed me.
But where he receded like the tide, Reese came crashing in to fill the void like the biggest wave.
Though we didn’t have much time together, the time we did, he took full advantage of. I smiled as I spread more compost over the soil, recalling our picnic on Friday at Westchester. It was something so simple, so easy, and yet it had made me feel like I was on top of the world. The warmth of the sun on our skin, the taste of childhood favorite foods, the sound of his voice as he read my book out loud — it was perfect. It was a glimpse of what our life could be like, in the future, and I clung to that glimpse like the last vine that stopped me from falling into an abyss.
As much as I loved the way I felt with Reese, I still couldn’t get over the fact that Cameron had built me an aviary. I couldn’t let go of the fact that he was seeing a therapist — which he was with right now. He hadn’t spoken much to me since the conference, but I knew just by looking at him that he wanted to.
And so, my heart remained severed. Because how could I turn my back on him when he still had time, when I’d promised him I’d wait?
As if my thoughts were calling to him, the sliding glass door connected to our sunroom opened, and Cameron stepped out onto our patio with a smile on his face.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he said, eyeing where I was working with the soil. “The weather is perfect today.”
I leaned back on my heels, looking up at him from where I was on my knees in the garden. His smile was genuine, the first one I’d seen him wear in a week, and I returned it.
“It’ll get cold again, but spring is teasing us.”
“As it often does in Pennsylvania,” he said. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of me, rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt. “Can I help?”
“I’d love that.”
He picked up where I’d left off, digging into our compost with his bare hands where I had my gloves for protection. He never was afraid of getting dirty — it was something I’d always loved about him.
I watched him for a moment longer before leaning forward to help, and a silence fell over us, though it wasn’t the comfortable one that I was used to. Now, it was strained, riddled with unsaid words that hung between us like lasers that would singe our skin if we touched them. Every now and then, I glanced up to watch him work, but I never knew what to say.
Words were becoming as hard for me as they were for him.
“How was your session with Patrick?” I managed after a while.
Cameron kept his eyes on his hands, and I watched my own, trying to relieve the tension.
“It was fine.”
Fine.
I swallowed, thinking of how complicated my relationship with that word was now. It was how I’d described my state of being for so long, what I’d told people when they asked how I was — or how Cameron and I were. But fine didn’t mean everything was okay. It meant I didn’t want to talk about how things really were.
It meant I was surviving. I was breathing. But that was all.
“That’s good,” I said.
Cameron nodded, glancing at me just as I came across an ugly, thick weed buried deep under where I would plant new flowers soon. I leaned back on my heels, grabbing my farmer’s knife.
“It’s hard,” he said, voice soft as I started working at the weed. “Talking to him. Sometimes. He just… he likes to talk about my dad.”
I stilled, the knife hovering under the weed. I stared at it before pulling up gently, freeing part of it.
“I can imagine,” I said. “We never talk about him. Not since we were in college, that one time, when you told me what happened.”
Cameron scratched his jaw, marking it with soil as he did. “Yeah. But it’s good, even when it’s hard. I have a lot of… feelings toward my dad, I guess. That I never knew about. Or rather, that I never dived into.” He cleared his throat. “I think he’s part of the reason I have such a hard time talking.”
I yanked at the weed, my heart in my throat. I could sense it, something big building with Cameron’s every sentence.
“I could see that.”
I tried to give him his space to feel out his next words. He seemed frustrated, like the words were right within sight but blurred by a glass he couldn’t break through.
“The night you came home from the conference, there was something I wanted to tell you. But, it’s not easy to talk about.”
The sun slipped behind a cloud then, making me shiver with the chill of the shade.
“And I want to tell you, but you just have to know that—”
“Shit!”
I dropped the knife, that hand coming up to press hard into the palm I’d just slashed with it trying to cut the last of the stubborn weed. Blood poured through my glove, and I cringed against the pain.
“Oh, shit,” I said again, this time more resigned than panicked.
Cameron was already on his feet and pulling me up from my knees. He carefully rushed me inside and straight to our kitchen sink, peeling off my glove and running water over the cut. I watched the clear liquid turn red as he rinsed me, the sight of blood always making my head spin.
I gripped the counter.
“It’s deep,” Cameron said, and I just nodded. “We should go to the hospital. I think you need stitches.”
I held onto the counter with my free hand, holding the injured one under the water as Cameron slipped away to grab our
first-aid kit. He dried my hand when he returned, wrapping it in gauze and checking that it wasn’t too tight before leading me to the front door.
“I’ll grab you a light jacket from upstairs. Here,” he said, swiping his keys from the table in our foyer. “Let me start the car first, get it warmed up.”
“It’s nice out,” I reminded him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Well, we don’t know how long this will take. Let me at least get the jacket.”
He was already three steps up when I called his name.
“You were going to say something,” I said, nodding toward the garden. “Outside.”
Cameron swallowed, offering me a small smile. “It’s okay, it can wait. Let’s get you fixed up first, okay?”
My stomach sank, but the stinging pain in my hand echoed Cameron’s sentiment. I nodded, and within five minutes, we were in the car and on our way to the hospital.
I held onto his promise that we’d talk later, but when we were back home, my hand stitched up and well on its way to healing, no words came.
They didn’t come the day after, either.
Or the day after that.
As Cameron slipped back into his silence, I slipped back into just being fine when I was at home.
And the only time I felt happiness was when I was at Westchester.
With Reese.
***
Cameron
The night that fell after Charlie cut her hand, I dreamed about my father.
He was standing over my mom’s lifeless body, a snarl in his lip as he shook his head at me.
“I told you you were worthless,” he sneered. “She will move on. She will be fine without you — happier, even. She doesn’t want you. Just like we didn’t.”
That same scene, those same words, played on repeat. Over and over he said them, and over and over I tried to shake myself from the nightmare. I couldn’t wake up, though I knew I was dreaming. I was aware of my body, of where I laid in the bed next to Charlie, of where her body touched mine.
Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series Page 39
