looked at her. Then, sadly, she put her hands back to the earth. His heart ached to go outside—but how could he? She’d seen the video. She had seen him at the blinds, longing for her, wishing to be outside with her, even in the rain—he didn’t care.
How embarrassing.
Charlie watched her hands pick at the weeds on the ground, but . . . she wasn’t really doing anything at all, just like Maddie had told him. He’d never noticed. She looked at his porch again, and then slowly got to her feet. After she caught her balance, she removed her gardening gloves, and ambled towards her house.
She likes you, he heard Maddie’s voice in his head. She likes you too, you know.
Vera was opening the screen-door when she heard a sound behind her.
“Hello there, Vera.”
She turned. “Charlie!”
He was standing by the fence, holding a bottle of wine.
“Charlie, I’m—”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I saw the video. Would you like to sit on the porch with me and have a glass of wine?”
It was the first time he’d ever asked her to come over. It was the first time they weren’t pretending to accidentally cross paths. She wasn’t pretending to pick at the weeds, and he wasn’t pretending to walk outside unknowingly.
She wanted to tell him that she’d been doing the same thing; sitting at the blinds on those rainy days, wondering if maybe he was going to walk outside. And she would tell him, today, over a glass of wine.
Vera nodded. “I would like that very much.” She had a glass in her hand, and she dumped the water on the ground.
“Leave it there,” Charlie said. He lifted his other hand and he was holding two stemmed wine glasses. Vera smiled and blushed, and she walked to the gate, and they sat on his porch sipping wine.
“That’s a pretty necklace, by the way. The one you wore yesterday.”
“Thank you, Charlie. It was my mother’s.”
A week later, Charlie was leaving the market, with a small bag of groceries in his hand.
“Hey, Charles!”
He recognized the voice of the punk kid.
“Hey, Cindy, it’s the guy from that video again.”
The young blonde girl turned to see him. It was only the boy and girl this time, the other hoodlums were off somewhere, probably smoking cigarettes behind a different store, or setting the world on fire. “Hey, it is. Hi Charles!”
Charlie scowled at them, and walked on. He stopped a few feet away and paused. He exhaled a deep breath, and then turned back around.
“Hey kid, come here,” he said.
The boy walked over, dragging the tail of his battered jeans behind.
“Hold this.” He shoved his bag of groceries in the kid’s arms.
“Uh, sure . . . why—”
“Be careful with it.” His daily bottle of wine was inside. “Stay there.”
Charlie went into the grocery store, and five minutes later he came out carrying a bouquet of flowers. Cheap flowers from a grocery store, but still . . .
“Give me my bag.” He took his groceries from the boy, and flopped the bouquet of flowers in the kid’s arms.
“What’s this?”
“Give it to the girl,” he motioned to the skinny blonde girl. “Don’t be a dummy. Girls like flowers, and when you like a girl, you give her flowers. You treat women right, you hear? And you do like the girl, right?”
“I-I . . . umm . . .”
The kid’s face went red, which Charlie thoroughly enjoyed watching. The girl looked embarrassed too, but she was smiling uncontrollably.
“I, uh . . . thanks, Charles,” the kid said, staring dumbly at the flowers in his arms. When the boy looked up at the girl, he saw that she was smiling, and that made him smile too.
“My name is Charlie, not Charles,” he said, walking off. “Dumb ass.”
“Yes, sir.”
A moment later, the kid yelled, “You’re cool as shit, Charlie!”
Charlie didn’t look back, but waved his cane as if to say enough already.
“Cool as shit isn’t a nice way of giving someone a compliment,” he yelled back. “And get yourself a new pair of pants. You look dumb as shit.”
The kids were silence for a moment, and then started laughing.
When Charlie was far enough away he smiled, and even let out a laugh himself.
Maybe Maddie was right: change wasn’t so bad after all.
About the Author
Brandon Zenner was born and raised along the coast of New Jersey, just a stone’s throw away from the beach. When not writing, his wife, daughter, and two dogs keep him well entertained. If you enjoyed this story, you can find Brandon Zenner’s other works here: https://www.amazon.com/author/brandonzenner.
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Thank you for reading Wine With Charlie. And thank you for still reading, down to the very last line.
Sincerely,
Brandon Zenner
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