Breathless

by Sullivan, Francis

  "Ow," she murmured to herself, rubbing the tender spot. But when she looked beside her to see what she had hit, her eyes widened. Laying there, in their perfect spot, was her precious stock of books all in order, as if nothing had ever happened to them. Breathless, she reached for the nearest one, throwing it open. And there were all the pages all in place, pasted back into the binding from the night she had torn them out.

  Charlotte laughed happily, knowing that Jack handsome early to work on them. She bolted from her bed and began to run to his room, but not before she noticed that all of the photographs she had shut up in the draws has all been taken back out and placed around around the edges of her mirror once again. She smiled at the photographs of her and Helen dressed up at the party, at the sight of Luc's cold face in Cherbourg, at the pictures of she and Jack looking very uncomfortable standing together at the gala. How lovely it all was.

  She grinned and ran across the hallway to Jack's room, throwing open the door. "Thank you, Jack!" she said happily, throwing herself into his arms as he stood at his desk. "I can't tell you what it means to me to have everything back to how it was!" She pulled away and her smile faded as she looked at him. "Why are you so dressed up?" she asked, staring at his crisp, clean shirt and pressed pants.

  He smiled at her. "I'm going to enlist today."

  Charlotte frowned in shock, pulling away. "Today? Why the hurry? Lewis only gave you permission last night..."

  "Why should I wait?" he asked, bending to tie his shoes. "What would I be waiting for?" Charlotte's heart lurched but she knew there was nothing she could do. This was what he wanted. He straightened up. "Will you come with me?"

  Charlotte frowned. "Come where?" she asked in confusion.

  "To enlist," Jack replied, grabbing his wallet from the desk.

  "Oh..." Charlotte said uncertainly. "I don't know, Jack..."

  "Please, Char." Jack looked at her solemnly. "I'd really like you to be there with me." HIs eyes plead with her.

  She sighed but nodded. "Alright. Give me a few minutes to change and get something to eat from the kitchen." He smiled gratefully at her but she could only return a small smile. It was hard to believe that this all was really happening. She didn't want to lose him yet.

  She quickly changed into a light summer dress and heels and pulled her hair back from her face with a matching blue ribbon. Blue, she had learned, was Jack's favorite color.

  Walking down to the kitchen, she noticed that Lewis' study door was open. She frowned. She hadn't seen it opened ever since...but now it was, and the lights on. She timidly knocked at the doorway. "Lewis?"

  He looked up from his desk. "Oh, come in, Charlotte," he beckoned for her, shuffling some of the papers on his desk. "I was meaning to send for you. There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

  Charlotte smiled nervously and pulled a plush chair up to his desk. "That sounds rather ominous," she confessed. She leaned her elbows on his desk, resting her chin in her hands.

  Lewis looked at her, concerned. "What's wrong?"

  Charlotte shrugged, but couldn't keep it from him. "Did you know that Jack was planning on enlisting today?"

  Lewis smiled at her gently. "Of course. When Jack sets his mind to something, he can't think of anything else until it's done. I knew he'd go in the morning. Has he already gone?"

  "No. He's waiting for me. But I'm not sure that I want to go," Charlotte confessed. "Is that terrible of me? I don't want him to go."

  "But you'll still go with him, won't you?" Lewis asked her. "I'm sure he wants you there."

  "I know," Charlotte sighed. "And I'll go. But this is just all moving really fast. If he enlists, one day he'll be gone, and I'll be left here doing nothing of great consequence."

  Lewis smiled at her sympathetically. "For what it counts, Charlotte, I'm really glad you chose to stay in England and continue performing."

  "If anyone wants to hire me for a job after this one," Charlotte corrected him.

  "So I'm taking it that you don't want to continue with the run of this show?"

  Charlotte shook her head. "No. It doesn't seem right without Helen. She brought so much life to it...and now that she's gone, it won't feel the same. And I couldn't do it without Wesley, either. So I suppose I'll just wait to see if something else comes up."

  "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Lewis said, standing and leaning against his desk, looking at Charlotte very seriously. "Helen had already booked her next show before she...before she passed away. It would mean so much to me, and I'm sure it would have meant a lot to her, if you were to consider filling the role for her." Lewis looked at her with his sad eyes. "Please, Charlotte. It would mean so much to me," he repeated.

  Without even thinking, she nodded. "Of course," she agreed. "Of course I'll do it for the both of you." She hugged him. "Can I ask just one thing, though?"

  "Of course."

  Charlotte looked solemnly at Lewis. "I only want to do it if Wesley is cast as the male lead." Immediately sensing his hesitation, Charlotte protested. "Lewis, you know he's a good actor. Give him this chance. Please."

  "I know he is, Charlotte," Lewis said. "And I'll do my best to have him cast. I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best."

  "Thank you," she said, embracing him once again. "I love you," she added. It was something she didn't say nearly enough. She wasn't sure if she had ever said it to Helen, and now the weight of it burdened her. There was no time for unsaid words. She wouldn't take them for granted anymore.

  Jack pulled the car to the curb and turned the ignition off. He sat back in his seat as the two of them silently surveyed the enlistment booth.

  "This is it," Jack breathed, as if not quite believing it.

  Charlotte nodded, looking at the line of eager, young men. "Is it everything you dreamed of?"

  Jack took a moment, but then nodded. "Yes. It's even more since you're here with me." He turned and smiled at her, but his smile faded. "Are you okay?"

  Charlotte sighed and looked at him. "Jack...I know I've asked you a hundred times before, but I need to ask you one last time...are you sure you want to do this?"

  Jack nodded, looking at Charlotte in the eyes. "I'm positive," he told her with certainty, as if trying to convince her of what he already believed. "I need to do this, Charlotte. For Joey, for my mum, for your mum and your brother. This is my way of making things better. I have to."

  His words were so final. Charlotte nodded and looked ahead. "Well," she said taking a breath, but everything felt so shaky. "If that's what you really want," she looked back at him, "then I'll forever support you in it." She gave him a small smile.

  He smiled back. "Thank you, Char." He gave her hand a final squeeze before climbing out of the car and walking over to the booth. And then it was done. And Charlotte couldn't help but feel as if she had lost him already.

  "It's by Thorton Wilder," Lewis told Charlotte, pouring her a glass of water. "Have you heard of it?" Charlotte shook her head.

  "Our Town?" Jack asked, taking a serving of potatoes. "I've read it. It's an amazing piece of literature. I can't believe you secured the rights to perform it. Apparently it's going to be the next American classic."

  "What's it about?" Charlotte asked interestedly.

  "It's a play in three acts," Jack told her with a smile, leaning across the table. "About a small American town. The story is told through the everyday lives of the townspeople. The moral of the play is," he said, glancing at Lewis, "that you should never take life for granted. That you should savor every moment as if it were your last."

  "So who am I to play?" Charlotte asked.

  "Her name is Emily," Lewis told her. Charlotte noticed that Jack looked up in surprise. "It's not too old of a role for you. The story begins when she's a young teenager until she's in her early twenties. She starts as a precocious young girl with a schoolgirl crush, falls in love, gets married, and dies."

  Charlotte's eyes widened. "She dies?" she repeated. "Oh, Lewis
. I'm not sure I'm right for this role. It sounds so complex, something that someone like Helen could do. Or maybe Lizzie. Have you asked Lizzie? I'm really not sure that I'm ready for something like this."

  "Charlotte," Jack interrupted her. She looked across the table at him. He was staring at her with his calm blue eyes, and somehow they were able to relax her. "Charlotte, I've read the play. Over and over. And I know, without question, that you are perfect for this role. No one could play it better."

  Charlotte bit her lip and looked over at Lewis, who was looking back at her with an expression of agreement. "I know you can do this, Charlotte," he told her. "I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you could."

  Charlotte nodded. "I've already agreed," she told him. "I'm not about to back away now."

  He grinned at her. "Good. Because I also have wonderful news. The producers have agreed to cast Wesley as George, Emily's childhood sweetheart and husband."

  Charlotte's face broke into a grin. "What? That's wonderful news, Lewis! Thank you so much! I can't thank you enough!" She leapt up from the table to embrace Lewis. "I promise that together we're going to make this such a wonderful show! I know I can do it if Wesley is acting alongside me!" She gave Lewis another smile before returning to her seat and picking up her fork. "What?" she asked, noticing Jack's quizzical face.

  He paused for a moment but then shook his head. "Nothing," he told her, picking at his food. "I'm really glad Wes is getting back onstage," he said after another moment. "I can tell he loves it almost as much as you do." He gave her a short smile before continuing his dinner.

  Charlotte looked at him in confusion, wondering what had changed his mood so quickly. She didn't know what she had done now, when everything had seemed perfect between them, but whatever she had done had left her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Lewis had given her a copy of Our Town, and Charlotte had stolen away from the table before they had even finished dessert. She couldn't wait to read the play that Jack seemed to love so dearly and that Lewis cared about so much. She ran upstairs to her room and shut herself inside, jumping onto her bed and opening the script excitedly. But even after the first few pages, she knew that this wasn't just any play.

  "Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you."

  Charlotte ran her fingers over the printed words, tears springing to her eyes. This was really the meaning of it all. Everyone kept talking about how tragic Helen's death had been, how she had been too young and too alive to suddenly have it all taken away. But, Charlotte now realized, perhaps it was better this way. Helen had lived every moment the way she wanted to: onstage, in love, happy. That was much better than living a long life of emptiness.

  She turned to the front of the script, reading the first lines again, this time with an understanding that she hadn't had before.

  "Amazing!" Lizzie exclaimed with a grin after finishing a scene, embracing Charlotte. "I knew you were going to be sensational in this role, but I would never have expected this!"

  Charlotte smiled back and squeezed Lizzie's arm thankfully. She had been thrilled when Lizzie had been cast as her stage mother-with the help of some aging makeup and a gray-streaked wig. In fact, the entire cast had been incredibly supportive over the past month of rehearsals and they had sincerely helped Charlotte through such a difficult time.

  "She's right," Wesley said, limping over to Charlotte and pecking her on the cheek. "You're doing an amazing job."

  "Do you really think so?" Charlotte asked anxiously. "I'm really worried about the ice cream shop scene. It just didn't feel right today. Not...natural enough. And the cemetery scene always throws me off. I can't seem to get it right..."

  "Charlotte," Wesley stopped her softly, a gently smile across his face. "Stop. You are brilliant. I can't even imagine Helen herself doing a better job with this role."

  Charlotte smiled at the sound of Helen's name. After the past weeks, the name was finally no longer haunted, but instead brought a lightness to Charlotte's heart. "She would have, though," she replied with nostalgic admiration. "You know she would have." Wesley smiled back down at her.

  "Wonderful work today, Charlotte!" Mr. Olivier, the new director, announced as he walked up to her. "You too, Wesley. The show is coming along perfectly. Why don't the both of you leave a bit early today. We're just going to be rehearsing the parents' scenes tonight and there's no reason you should waste your evening here watching. Go out and grab an ice cream soda." He gave the pair a wink and walked away, calling to Lizzie and her scene partner.

  Charlotte looked up at Wesley and burst out in giggles as their eccentric but cheery director walked off.

  "You know he truly believes we're really in love," Wesley said, amused.

  "I know!" Charlotte laughed. "I suppose we're doing our jobs right, then! He's such a character!"

  "Yeah," Wesley nodded in agreement, his brown eyes sparkling. He had been in such a good mood lately that he was hardly ever seen without his dazzling smile which always overshadowed the scar that would permanently grace his face. "So," he said. "I don't think the ice cream shops are open at this time of night. But could I walk you home? For old times' sake?"

  "Oh," Charlotte's face clouded with worry. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Wesley. Your leg-"

  "Is fine," he interjected. "I made it through tonight's entire rehearsal without needing my crutches. It's getting stronger," he said, looking down at his leg. "But I promise I'll use them on the walk home."

  "We could just call a taxi-"

  "But it will be so much better this way," Wesley insisted with a grin. And he was already grabbing his crutches and swinging himself out of the wings and down the back hallway at a brisk pace. Even with a bad leg, nothing could slow Wes down. Nothing could dampen his mood. Charlotte laughed and ran to catch up with him as he raced out of the building and down to the pavement.

  "Alright, alright!" she giggled. "You can slow down now!"

  "What? You can't keep up, Martin?" he asked her with a sly smile.

  She playfully raised an eyebrow. "I just don't want to hurt you, Crutchie." He laughed heartily. "I'm really glad we're spending time together again, Wes. I feel like...with this show, we're getting the chance to reconnect. Especially after everything that was happening with Jack. But...I missed you." She smiled self-consciously. "I'm just really glad..."

  "Me too," Wesley replied. "I like spending time with you like this." As they turned the corner, he changed the subject. "How is Jack? And Lewis? I feel so badly that I haven't gotten the chance to visit as much as I should, but with the show and doctor appointments..."

  "No, don't apologize," Charlotte insisted. "We're all busy. My schedule isn't nearly as full as yours is and even I don't see them often. I get home late at night when everyone is asleep and there's always something to do on Sundays. I miss them." She thought of Jack, who would sometimes leave her a quick note under the door for when she got home at night or would send her snacks to the theatre if she were having an especially long day. And Lewis was just as wonderful, leaving new books on her bed and ordering her an engraved nameplate for her dressing room door. Even though she hadn't been seeing them nearly as often, they were still her family. And with how little she had heard of Luc and her mother, they were all she had.

  "Come on," she grinned at Wesley. "I'll race you to the end of the block."

  Charlotte walked through the front doors of the Carey's home the next afternoon after Mr. Olivier had sent her home early. "Darling," he had told her confidently, "you know your lines. You've memorized the blocking. The emotion is there. I don't want you to overwork it. Go home, take a day off, and I'll see you tomorrow." Charlotte had protested but the director had been adamant. So finally she had made the long, hot walk home in the July heat.

>   "Hello?" she called as she stripped the gloves from her hands and pulled off her hat. "Is anyone home?" She sighed at the silence that greeted her and set her things down on the side table, noticing a stack of envelopes laying there. "So Lewis isn't home," she murmured to herself, sorting through the stack of letters addressed with his name until she stopped, startled, recognizing the very familiar handwriting across the face of one of the envelopes, addressed with her name. She ran her fingers over the writing, not daring to believe it, but then greedily ripped it open, unfolding the letter with shaking hands.

  "Dearest Charlotte," she read to herself, her voice trembling and tears sprouting in her eyes. "Everyone is well." She laughed to herself, the tears now freely streaming down her cheeks. "I'm always wishing, always hoping that we'll be together again soon." Charlotte shrieked happily, jumping to the tips of her toes at the sight over her brother's scrawled signature, and turned to race up the stairs. She ran down the hallway with a grin on her face. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" She darted to his bedroom and wrenched open the door. "Jack, look what I got-!" But then she stopped dead in her tracks, not quite believing her eyes.

  There he stood in his brand new army uniform, his hair perfectly slicked to the side, his posture tall and proud. He had never looked more handsome to Charlotte, but the sight of him in his uniform made her feel sadder than she could ever have imagined. Seeing the startled look on her face, Jack's eyes turned concerned. "What?" he asked self-consciously, tugging at his jacket. "Do I look alright?"

  Charlotte opened her mouth but nothing came out. She couldn't find the words. But finally, taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Yes," she breathed. "You look wonderful."

  A proud smile bloomed over Jack's face and he bashfully looked down at his hands. "So, uh," he began quietly, "what were you about to say? You got something?"

  "Oh, yes," Charlotte remembered, fumbling with the letter in her hands. "Luc. He sent a letter. He says everyone is alright."

  "That's wonderful news, Char!" Jack exclaimed, reaching for the letter with a grin. He looked at her, his eyes shining. "I'm so happy for you. Truly." Charlotte smiled back at him, but was afraid it didn't quite reach her eyes. "So what are you doing home so early?" Jack asked quizzically. "We weren't expecting you home tonight at all. Tech week is always so hectic."