by Alison Ryan
Henry shook his head, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. You should be doing those things, you’re young and healthy, with all your life ahead of you. And more money than sense. You’re living the dream. And I’ll be dead soon, so you won’t have to feel bad about doing any of it.”
“Stop it with that bullshit,” Declan said. “What, you think you’re going to die and I’m going to suddenly have this need to go on a debauched rampage?”
“I would hope so,” Henry grinned. “It would make me proud.”
Declan laughed, “Well, in that case…”
They had a rare moment of peace between them.
“I just,” Henry continued. “I want you to be happy. Do the things you want to do, not the things you have to.”
Declan looked at his father, “Since when the hell do you care about anyone being happy? They must have really hit you up with the morphine today.”
Henry laughed, and to Declan it sounded a little like the past. It was a deep, guttural chuckle from the well of what was left of his father. Declan had forgotten that, despite his misgivings toward Henry, he really loved the sound of his laugh. It had a low and hearty timbre to it. It was one of the world’s most pleasant sounds.
“Maybe so, son,” Henry said. “But I always cared. I just thought I knew what was best for you to get there. Apparently I was wrong. You’re richer than any DeGraff has ever been in the history of our family.”
Declan rolled his eyes, “Fuck money. It doesn’t mean I’m happy.”
“Spoken like someone who’s never been poor,” Henry replied.
“Ha!” Declan laughed. “And like you would know what that was like? You were born with a silver spoon up your ass. And so was Granddaddy.”
“I don’t have to experience poverty to understand how shitty it is,” Henry said. “Just like you don’t need to have cancer to know how insidious it is. You can see me with your own two eyes, can’t you?”
Declan looked away for a moment, unable to say anything.
“It’s fine, son,” Henry said. “And I know you’re right. Money doesn’t always mean you’ll be happy. But it’s not even just about that. You built something, on your own. You saved our asses in the process. We were about as close as it gets to going bankrupt and losing this house and our reputation in this town.”
Declan looked at his father again, “What would that have mattered anyway? What is the deal with ‘reputation’? It’s just another word for ‘I care way too much about what other people think.’ I didn’t bail us out financially for that bullshit. I did it because I love my family.”
They sat quietly for a moment, neither of them saying a word.
“I know,” Henry finally spoke. “You did it for your mother.”
“No, Dad,” Declan said. “Mom is dead. I did it for you.”
They’d never had a conversation like this before. Declan’s conversations with his father tended to be short and were always punctuated with a slamming door or angry last word. But both men were realizing there wasn’t time for that anymore.
It weighed heavy on them both.
“Thank you, son,” Henry almost whispered. “I don’t know if I ever said it.”
“You didn’t have to,” Declan replied. “You never will.”
********
They spent the rest of the morning watching Sports Center and The Price is Right while Henry’s nurse administered his pain medication and tried to get him to eat something.
“I’m not eating a damn thing,” he scoffed. “I’ll just throw it up anyway. The thought of it alone makes me nauseated. Give me some alone time with my son.”
The nurse sighed, “I can make you a smoothie if it would be easier. But you need some calories, Mr. DeGraff.”
“I said no!” Henry yelled, throwing the remote control across the room.
The nurse didn’t even blink, “Fine. We’ll try later.”
“The fuck we will,” Henry muttered as she swiftly walked away, tray of lunch in hand.
“Dad,” Declan said. “Was that necessary?”
“She’s always pressuring me,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t like it. I told you to let me fire her.”
“She’s doing her job,” Declan pointed out. “Despite you treating her like shit. You’re lucky she doesn’t quit. I would.”
“Yeah, well,” Henry said. “You don’t know what it’s like.”
“I know,” Declan said, leaning forward. “I don’t. I’m sorry to give you a hard time. Just let her take care of you. That’s all she wants to do. Don’t take your anger out on her. Hell, take it out on me if you want. I deserve it.”
“No,” Henry shook his head. “You’re a good son.”
“I’m not a good person though,” Declan sighed, sitting back against the chair again. “You know; I saw Charlotte yesterday. She’s in town.”
“Charlotte?” Henry asked. “Sanders? From college?”
“Yep,” Declan said. “Our paths have crossed yet again.”
“You know,” Henry sat up a little bit. “You never really told us why you ended it with her. You really loved that girl, didn’t you?”
Declan nodded, “Yeah. I did.”
“So, why?” Henry asked. “Too young?”
Declan shook his head, “No. It wasn’t that. It just wouldn’t have worked out.”
“Why, because she’s not from here?” Henry asked. “You never cared about that shit. Much to my chagrin.”
Declan laughed, “Yeah. That’s true.”
“You know,” Henry said. “I almost broke up with your momma when we were engaged. Did you know that?”
Declan shook his head, “No. I never knew that. Why?”
“Well, your grandma wasn’t a big fan of her. Said she was too… What was the word she used? Whimsical. That and she said your momma was too quirky. That she thought too deep.” Henry laughed at the memory. “As if that’s a bad thing, to have depth. Said I should pick someone simpler. But no. The thing she didn’t like about your momma was the thing I loved the most. Anna was complex. Beautiful. She took things to heart. Too much to heart.”
Declan had never in his life seen his father cry, but Henry DeGraff had tears in his eyes, “I let her down in the end. Really, it was me who she shouldn’t have picked. I was too hard on her. Tried to mold her into what I wanted. Who could take that?”
Henry’s lip quivered and Declan did the closest thing to hugging his father that he’d ever done - he placed a hand on his gaunt shoulder.
“Dad,” Declan said. “It’s not your fault. Momma was sick… She wasn’t well. People don’t do what she did because of just one thing or one person. You can’t blame yourself. I’ve spent plenty of time thinking of what I could have done differently, or what warning signs I missed, but it’s all a waste of time. In the end, I don’t think there’s anything we could have done to keep her from making the decision she made. Sometimes the world is just too much for a person to handle.” Declan was trying his best not to cry. Not now. “But I know she’s okay, Dad. Wherever we go after this, whatever happens, it’s a place where she can be okay again. The pain of living inside her head is gone. She’s free. And she’s waiting for us. You know that?”
Henry nodded, “It’s the only thing that gets me through this cancer shit. That and the narcotics.”
********
Henry drifted off after that. After watching his father sleep for a while, Declan walked out to the carriage house to have a moment alone and drown himself in nostalgia.
Once Charlotte left Charleston years ago, Declan could never bring himself to go back into the carriage house. Even now, as he entered it 10 years later, he swore he could still smell her in the curtains, in the sheets. He walked into the room and he could see the apparition of her leaning over the vanity in her underwear, putting on lipstick, yelling at him to stop ogling her ass.
But you’re so beautiful, he would have said.
God, he still loved her. His muscles hurt
from the pain of missing her. The previous night was both a dream and a nightmare. Running his hands up and down her body had been a piece of heaven returned to him.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, the same bed on which he’d first made love to her so long ago. There had to be a way to fix all the wrongs.
Fate had conspired to have them physically collide with each other. Twice. One collision could be dismissed as something random. A second felt more like grand design.
Declan had tried to forget about her through booze and a buffet of other women, women who couldn’t come close to equaling the intensity of his passion for her. None of it worked.
He couldn’t let her leave this city without one more chance.
Ten Years Ago…
Nothing could quite equal their night on Capers Island. But they’d tried many times to replicate it.
The best nights were the ones in the carriage house. Charlotte loved being romanced and surprised, but if she was honest she preferred the comfort of the little home they’d made that summer and her most treasured memories lived there.
She’d come home from work and Declan would already be in bed. Usually in just a pair of boxers with a takeout order of Thai food on the nightstand.
“Is it terrible that I never get sick of Thai?” she’d ask as she’d leap on top of him. His hands would wander down the curve of her back to her ass.
“Is it terrible that I never get sick of your body?” he’d say as he kissed down her neck. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’m hungry.”
Charlotte would laugh. “My clothes aren’t stopping you from eating, Mr. Hungry.”
“Oh yes they are,” he’d say. “I prefer my dessert first.”
Their routine was heaven. She’d let him slide off her jeans while she pulled off her shirt and bra, leaving her naked except for a very tiny pair of panties.
“Ah, pink,” he’d say. “I like pink days.”
She’d squirm, “Please. Take them off.”
He’d slide them off slowly and then place his face inches from her sex, reverently inhaling her scent, the feel of his breath on her clit being absolute torture.
“What do you want?” he’d ask. His voice lowered a couple of octaves when he was aroused. She loved that about him. He was all man.
“You,” she’d plead. “Your mouth on me. Make me come.”
Before she’d have to ask again, he was devouring her, coaxing an orgasm out of her with his tongue. She felt like she was being opened up by him, slowly, and with such intensity that her heart would race. Before she knew it, she was screaming out his name, letting him know he was giving her exactly what her body so desperately needed.
She’d ache to have him inside her by then, and beg him for it, but his unquenchable thirst for her demanded a series of her climaxes on his face before he’d seek his own pleasure.
Eventually, he’d have to fuck her. His cock would become so hard that it was painful. Her luscious curves drove him insane and he’d enter her with such force that she would cry out from his girth. But her wetness welcomed him, enveloped him, and he would fuck her hard at first, needing to pound her so she could feel his desire for her.
“Fuck,” she’d cry. “You’re so hard, baby. My pussy can barely take it.”
“Good,” he’d growl. “I want you to feel it tomorrow. So you’ll remember.”
She came so easily for him, so eagerly, and he got so much pleasure out of knowing that he was the man making her come. He’d throw her legs over his shoulders to penetrate her more deeply, watching her eyes roll back in her head from the ecstasy, making it so hard for him not to release into her right then.
“I love you,” she’d whisper, running her hand up his muscled abs. “Baby, I love you so much.”
It was his cue to take it slower. He’d put her legs down and lay over her, thrusting slowly in and out of her as she sighed, her hips raising to meet his rhythm.
“I love you too,” he’d say. “I always will.”
It was what she needed to hear to come again, and it was what he loved to say to her. He’d never meant something so much in his entire life.
“Please come inside me,” she’d say, her eyes sleepy and content. “It makes me feel like I belong to you.”
“You do, Charlotte,” he’d say, quickening his pace. “Completely.”
“I love you, Declan. God! I’m coming again!”
Her cry echoed throughout the house and it was met by his roar, the orgasm flooding from his shaft, his seed spilling into her wet and eager body, a pleasure like nothing he’d ever felt before. It felt like she was pulling his very soul out of him.
And it was like that every time.
Afterwards they’d lay together, tangled up in sheets and sweat. Neither could believe how happy they were; the post-love bliss was like being drunk or high off something cosmically good, a drug no company could ever invent.
“I never want this to end,” Charlotte would say.
“It never has to,” Declan would reply, kissing her head.
If he’d been told any different, he would never have believed it.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte had watched Declan leave, grateful to see his car pulling out of the driveway. She needed to get out and she hadn’t wanted to risk leaving the house if he was watching her.
She’d contemplated leaving Charleston. And she was still thinking about it. But for now, she’d wait and see. She’d paid for the rental house and it was non-refundable. Though she wasn’t hurting for money, she didn’t want to waste it. She could avoid Declan. And he probably wanted to avoid her too. If he knew what was good for him, anyway.
So she’d gotten dressed, fixed up her hair and headed downtown to King Street for some retail therapy.
It was so different being back in this city with money. She felt like she had arrived in a way, and after valeting her car at Charleston Place, she’d walked around for blocks, strutting her stuff in her Givenchy skirt and YSL top, a pair of sensible but stylish Tory Burch flats on her pedicured feet.
Much to her dismay, The Dixie Garden had been replaced by a Starbucks, but everything else looked almost exactly the same. It was a beautiful day, albeit hot as hell, and Charlotte couldn’t help but be temporarily boosted in her mood, swept up in the hustle, bustle, and energy of King Street on a sunny summer afternoon.
Despite the bombshell dropped on her head last night, she could choose to be happy today. After all, she’d come to Charleston to find that place again, the part of her heart and spirit that was capable of joy, even after being hit with life’s worst.
As she walked down the narrow sidewalks of King she noticed a woman walking toward her who looked incredibly familiar. But how? Charlotte barely had any friends or acquaintances when she’d lived here. So how…
Allyn Legare. It was obvious as the woman got closer. It was her old roommate. Damn.
Charlotte was tempted to duck into a store to avoid her. But then part of her wondered if Allyn would even remember her. And another part of her wanted to show her how well she was doing now. She was torn.
Ultimately, the decision was made for her. Allyn locked eyes with her once she was about ten feet away, and though Charlotte felt like she looked different, Allyn recognized her almost immediately.
“Charlotte?” Allyn said, her drawl still as syrupy as it had been ten years ago. “Charlotte Sanders, is that you?”
Charlotte feigned surprise, “Yes! And… Allyn? Is that you?”
Allyn nodded vigorously, a huge smile lighting up her face, something that caught Charlotte off guard. “Yes! Oh my GOD! Charlotte Sanders! What are you doing here? My Lord, I can’t believe it. Where are you going? What are you doing? Do you have a few minutes to catch up?”
So many questions at once, and Charlotte was still in shock to even be standing here talking to Allyn after so long.
“Well, sure,” Charlotte said, smiling. “Want to grab a coffee?”
“Yes! L
et’s do it!”
A small coffee and pastry shop was across the street and the two girls sashayed their way around stopped traffic to get to the other side.
“I guess we just jaywalked but to hell with it!” Allyn laughed as they both entered the café. “I just can’t believe I ran into you. Wanna sit down?”
“Um, yes,” Charlotte agreed. “Sounds good.”
The two women, who had only known one another as girls, sat across from each other in a narrow booth, both awkwardly quiet for a time. Neither knew what to say.
“Charlotte,” Allyn finally started. “I’m really glad to see you. What brings you to Charleston?”
Charlotte smiled, “Just a little vacation. I’m the partial owner of a practice in Nashville and I needed a break. A sabbatical.”
“Practice? Are you a doctor?” Allyn asked.
“Yes. An obstetrician.”
“Just like you said you would be,” Allyn said. “Wow. That’s fantastic.”
There was something so different about Allyn Legare now. The condescension was gone, the snobbishness. The grown up Allyn Legare was bright eyed with a kind smile and seemed genuinely interested in how Charlotte was doing. Charlotte had no idea what to make of it.
“And you?” Charlotte asked. “How are things?”
Allyn smiled, “They’re okay. I’m a stay-at-home mom to twin girls. They’re in school right now, but I’ll pick them up in a bit. They go to the Baptist school down on Meeting.”
“Oh, nice.” Charlotte wasn’t sure what else to ask.
“So,” Allyn said. “I should probably say something so it’s not so awkward.”
“Okay…” Charlotte said, suddenly nervous.
“I really need to apologize to you,” Allyn said, somberly. “I was a real shithead to you when we were roommates. And I’ve felt bad about that for a long time. Especially after you ended up leaving town. I felt like I might have had a part in that, and I can look back and really acknowledge what a bitch I was to you.”
