WindSwept Narrows: #13 Charity, Faith & Hope

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  Nico stood up after she made her bow and vanished. He wasn’t interested in the rest of the review. He’d been greeting her each morning since she began working at the resort. Always colorful, always cheerful as she seemed to dance down the stairs from her unit to the ground. At least now they were introduced.

  He heard the music for the next number beginning and tapped lightly on the open door, meeting the wide blue eyes. She had most of the excess make-up off and had her own clothing on again.

  “Are you here to yell at me?” Charity asked, turning back to the mirror and quickly uncovering her face once more with a long sigh. “I don’t think I was too nervous…I didn’t miss the words…and I didn’t fall…that’s a good sign.”

  “You didn’t tell them,” he said quietly, leaning against the door jamb.

  “No.” She turned to look at him. “Tonight was the first show…so I guess it’s alright.”

  “Alright?” A boisterous voice came out of the hall, nodding at Nico. “I told you before – you are amazing out there, Charity. You could make a small fortune…”

  “I’m not interested, thank you,” she lifted her purse and went past him. “I said I’d do you this favor. Three shows a week for four weeks. That’s all.”

  “How about dinner?” Nico asked, pushing away from the wall and walking with her. She seemed to know he was there and moved much slower than he was used to seeing her walk.

  “I think I’d like that, thank you,” she said with a nod. “But someplace quiet, please.”

  “I got the impression he’s been pressuring you,” Nico commented, his hand out and taking hers, leading her to the quiet, casual restaurant.

  “It’s weird…I can’t remember his name, but I know I don’t like him. I…get this…creepy feeling…like he’d do anything he could to convince me to change my mind,” Charity felt a shiver race down her back. “Stacy is his lead…” She sighed. “And I haven’t the faintest idea how I know that…this is really going to get old…”

  “At least you’re making a little more sense,” he commented, meeting the eyes of the maitre de. “Two please…as quiet as possible.”

  “No problem, sir,” he said, checking his table sheets and lifting two menus and guiding them among the tables.

  “The fireflies made perfect sense,” Charity said when they were seated, frowning over at him. “They really did…and still do…if I close my eyes…it’s like all these bits of information swarming around…but nothing is…” her hands were up and clasping. “Nothing is…coming together…”

  “You went through those routines with a headache,” he commented, absently pushing his glasses along his nose.

  She frowned at him and put both hands on the goblet of ice water, turning her attention on the menu.

  “Are you here as a date or a doctor?” She finally asked, closing the menu and watching him.

  “It’s hard to stop being a doctor, but believe me, I was a potential date in the audience,” he told her, a small laugh when she blushed. “I just have a real hard time reconciling you and the person I saw on the stage.”

  “It’s all an illusion…like this is probably a really mixed up dream,” she stopped when the waitress approached.

  “Whoa…on the other end tonight, Charity,” came the cheerful smile from the girl.

  “I’ve been kidnapped,” she said with a crooked grin. “Fettuccine, please with prawns…no dressing on the salad.”

  “If you’re gonna get kidnapped,” the girl nodded in approval before meeting the look from her date. “And what would you like tonight, sir?”

  Charity looked down at the table, studying the ice in her glass as he gave his order, a rich spicy dish of pork and vegetables.

  “Would you rather go home, Charity? I don’t carry pain killers with me, but…” he met the eyes she raised to his, her head shaking slowly.

  “I’m okay…it’s mostly eased off…I think food will help…”

  “You haven’t eaten all day?” He took a wild guess.

  “I think I was distracted…and busy…and I really wasn’t hungry,” she sighed but kept her eyes on his. “Do you always lecture?”

  “Only when provoked,” he returned, sitting back and drawing in a long breath. “You should have stayed in the center today.”

  “I shouldn’t have got smacked in the head with a rock,” she countered testily. “If you’re going to do the what should have been game, let’s go for the right one to begin with. Besides…I’m not sure where I live or how to get there,” she admitted slowly.

  “I’m sorry. I can help with the last part…you’re on the fourth floor above my unit in the dorms,” he told her, reaching over and taking her hand, isolating her thumb. “And you get in using your print.”

  “I was worried I’d have to sleep in the locker room,” she whispered, relief evident. “Thank you.”

  “That was an impressive first show,” Nico said, watching her expression.

  “You were watching?”

  “Both numbers,” he admitted casually.

  “You were worried about me,” she said softly, studying him closely.

  “Considering your head injury…yeah, a little…those are extremely vigorous routines you put yourself through, Charity,” he told her.

  “I gave them my word I would help,” she said honestly. “The girls worked so hard on those routines…”

  “No more lectures…” he met her gaze with a half smile. “Tonight.”

  “I knew it was too good to be true,” she mumbled, sitting back and letting the food be placed on the table. “Thank you.”

  “If you need anything, let me know,” the waitress told them, grinning at Charity as she walked off to her other customers.

  “You know…” Charity lifted a prawn and bit down in thought. “It’s going to be all through the resort staff within the hour…”

  “That you ate dinner?” Nico met the wrinkled nose with a grin.

  “That I had a date…with a doctor,” she whispered before taking a bite of the creamy pasta. “I love pasta…if it wasn’t for the red hair, I’d think I was Italian.”

  “Hmmm…the red hair and blue eyes do make it a little difficult to claim that nationality,” Nico agreed.

  “Since it’s best I not discuss my fireflies,” she began, peeking up through thick pale lashes.

  “What can you remember?” He asked, trying not to sound too clinical.

  “That’s the tricky bit,” she shrugged. “Until I’m in the middle of a conversation or…or a thought, I don’t know…information just kind of flits into my brain and my mouth is saying things before I realize what I’ve done,” Charity frowned. “That really does sound bad. So…I guess we talk about you…did you come here for the resort or did you live here?” She asked brightly.

  “Grew up here,” he answered, enjoying the spicy sweet potatoes and cabbage on his plate. “My father has a car repair shop in Des Moines,” he saw the unknown in her eyes. “It’s a little north of here about thirty minutes. And my mother teaches high school math.”

  “No doctors in the family?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Did you always know?” She asked quietly, staring for a long minute at the prawn between her fingers. “About wanting to be a doctor, I mean.”

  “I think I did…it seemed to gel a lot more when I was about ten and there was an accident just outside the garage,” Nico recalled the memory as if he were seeing it right then. “I had basic first aid and it all just seemed to fit.”

  “That’s a gift everyone should have…a path…a direction,” she said softly, distracted as the fireflies pulled together a memory. “What good is having a quick brain when no one can show you where you’re supposed to go with it? You know things you’re good at….and you know things you enjoy…but you feel like you’re just a waste…there’s no genuine passion to guide you…” She snapped her head up abruptly, shivering. “Ignore that…please…I think the fireflies took over again. But you
are lucky…I think I envy that gift in anyone.”

  “Do you think you grew up here?” Nico asked, considering the lost little girl he’d glimpsed for a moment.

  “Oh, no…San Francisco…and some boarding schools in France and England,” Charity tried to swallow, coughing and reaching for her glass of water. “Oh god…” she waved him back down when he moved to stand up. “I’m okay…I think I need a firefly trap, but I’m good…” Pale lashes were wide as she met his gaze, the candle from the table flickering in the lenses that covered the pale blue eyes. She watched him gesture to the waitress, requesting refills for the ice water while she was studying her pasta. “Thank you.”

  “Is everything alright?” The woman asked brightly.

  “Oh, it’s delicious, thank you.” She took another bite, looking up to find him watching her. “So…your name…it’s not American…”

  “Greek,” he answered proudly. “My father traveled with his parents when the wars were going on in Europe. They settled here and he met my mother one afternoon when her car broke down. Very romantic story,” he whispered, hoping for a little smile and relieved when she offered one. “He was only a little disappointed when I showed absolutely no talent for machines.”

  “I bet he’s very proud of you,” she told him with a nod. “Nico is short for…” She almost laughed when he looked slightly uncomfortable. “Nicolas?”

  “Nicodemus…sounds like something out of a barbarian movie,” he admitted.

  “Hmm…so it does…a gladiator…” Charity chewed thoughtfully. “Do you know much about amnesia?” Finally asking the question eating at her all through their meal.

  “I don’t, I’m sorry…but I have resources, Charity, I’ll be checking with them over the weekend,” he promised her, accepting the little nod she offered. “Can you remember anything about San Francisco?” He asked after a long silence.

  “I can…little things…my father and grandparents…” She ate but stared off into the darkness through the window at their side. “But not my mother…she died when I was four. I remember she had red hair…my father married another woman. Tall, black haired…she looks like the wicked queen in Snow White,” she said quietly, blinking rapidly, her gaze shifting to his. “I’m not sure that should have been said out loud.”

  Chapter Three

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” he promised. “Interesting image, though.”

  “I can see her…she likes wearing black and dark colors. Her hair is always pulled back into a tight weave at her neck,” Charity frowned, her eyes on his throat but her vision completely different. “She put me in boarding schools. Told my father it would be best for the family…that I be taught how to behave and proper manners for social gatherings…god, people are always lecturing me,” she realized with a frown.

  “I’m working on changing my ways,” Nico told her in mock seriousness that brought a crooked grin to her face.

  “I’m going to make a guess here,” she said, one finger up and pointing thoughtfully. “I bet the review tonight would definitely not fit into her idea of proper deportment.”

  Nico had to laugh and nod. “Probably not.”

  “But it pays really well,” she confided, a little of the natural cheerfulness returning. “That was delicious. Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Nico.”

  “Thank you for accepting. It makes a much nicer Friday evening than sandwiches or pizza.” He leaned back while their plates were taken away, a dessert menu laid on the table for them. “Dessert?” He asked, accepting the shake of her head. “We’re ready, thanks,” he reached into his jacket and pulled his wallet free.

  Charity slipped her jacket on, her lower lip pulled between her teeth as she waited for him to join her.

  “The memories are bothering you,” he commented, his hand on the cane and the other at the indent of her waist as they walked out of the resort and into the dry, cold night.

  “I’m trying to sort them…find places for them,” she admitted, unconsciously moving closer to him when the cold winds whipped around them. “I can see the schools as clearly as I can see you and me, Nico. Probably shouldn’t admit this, but I can see the detention rooms…I can hear the scolding and lectures…” She stopped talking, suddenly realizing they were walking in the parking lot toward the employee dorms. “I…don’t you have a cart you use…I remember seeing you…”

  “It’s by the west gate,” he told her. “I parked it there before I went to watch the review.”

  “Are you okay? I mean…you use the cart for a reason, Nico,” she said logically. “I know you said it doesn’t hurt, but…”

  “It’s not that far and I’m okay. The distance from the dorms to the health center is a little over a mile,” Nico told her easily. “Too far for me to walk in a decent amount of time and too short to use a car all the time. So they gave me the cart to use.”

  “Does it hurt? Honestly?” She peered up at him, watching the winds whip the straight blond hair over the rims of his glasses.

  “It throbs,” he admitted, shrugging.

  “What would you do if it was normal? What’s your very favoritest thing to do?” She asked, shivering and putting her arm around his waist as they walked, her face resting in the warmth of his jacket.

  “Run the beaches,” he answered immediately.

  Charity groaned. “Why did I know that was the answer? I have friends who think they’re cheetahs. You could do laps…in the pool…and it’s heated…and there’s a hot tub…”

  “Huh…the pool might be good,” he admitted with a slow nod, unsure why he hadn’t thought of that before she mentioned it, until he remembered having to wear swim trunks instead of the long work out pants he wore to the gym.

  “You haven’t had to deal with it very long, have you?” She asked after a quiet few minutes. “Were you angry?”

  “Pissed off, to be honest,” he said quietly, puzzled at how easy it was to answer her questions without anger bubbling out at her. “You go over and over it in your mind…what should have happened, how it should have been different…but in the end, what you have – is what it is.”

  “Kind of like my fireflies,” she nodded, understanding completely, even when he laughed. They came to a stop at the wide gate.

  “Use your thumb, Charity,” he told her, watching as she studied the keypad, placing her thumb on the small covered glass plate.

  “Colton, Charity. Dorm building D, unit four-twelve,” she read the screen that came up, the lock clicking and the gate swinging easily inward. “This place is totally teched out…it’s great.”

  They entered the elevator, a shudder running through her when the warmth met the cold. She read the numbers beside each door as they left the elevator, walking to the far end of the unit. Following the same procedure, she pressed her thumb to the glass plate, her hand up and cautiously turning the handle on the door. She wasn’t aware she was holding her breath until the lights slowly came up around her.

  Charity heard the door click behind her, her feet refusing to move very far into the room. “Looks a little unfinished,” she said slowly, two stacks of small cartons sitting unopened.

  “Just moved in?” Nico suggested, dropping his jacket to the chair and stretching out on the cushions with a grimace as his knee protested.

  “Or preparing to run away,” she countered softly, her fingers tracing the bold writing on the top of one of the boxes, one hand up and rubbing the side of her head.

  Nico pushed himself to his feet, turned to the left and went into the bathroom, hands opening drawers and the mirror cabinet until he found some pain relievers. He dumped a few into his palm and carried them to her, dropping them into the palm he lifted.

  Slim fingers curled closed, her feet absently moving over the carpeting to the kitchen for some cold water.

  He stretched out on the sofa, extending his leg and relaxing while watching her move around the large unit, touching things.

  Reading over the tops of the various b
oxes. She let her jacket fall from her shoulders, draping it over one of the stacks of cartons before moving quietly through the unfamiliar one bedroom apartment. She was shaking her head at the nothingness inside her mind when she looked over to see Nico on the sofa.

  He had fallen asleep. She cautiously eased his glasses free, setting them on the table. Some instinct led her to the closet where she quietly brought out two thick quilts and covered him, lowering the lights before going into the bedroom and finding a pair of comfortable pajamas on the bed. She changed, peering into the mirror with her head twisted to the side, trying to see the long cut he had stitched closed. But her hair covered it so she gave up and climbed into bed with a long yawn.

  Charity woke slowly, disoriented. Her cheek and stomach were warm, and there was a band of pressure along her side and down her back. She snuggled into the warmth. As she slowly became more aware of herself she realized that she was curled over Nico's chest while he cradled her against him. She froze in horror.

  After craning her head up agonizingly slowly she saw that he was still deep in sleep and relaxed a little. Instead of getting off him, she lay there for a second, enjoying the feeling of being held there. She could hear his steady heart beat and his intriguing scent made her want to press her nose against his collar bone and taste him. There was a dark shadow forming on his cheeks and chin and she wanted to run her hand over the skin to see what he felt like.

  His breathing suddenly changed and Charity realized that he had slowly come awake. She panicked, throwing herself off him. She meant to land on her side of the bed. Instead she used too much energy and threw herself off the bed entirely. Her feet were tangled in one of the quilts, making it impossible for her to find her footing.

  Instead, she landed on her behind on the floor and she sprawled there, doing her very best impression of a woman with absolutely no sense of balance or grace. Nico's face and shoulders came into view over the side of the bed.