A Hero's Homecoming

by Havel, Carlene;

  “I don’t know how I became the father confessor,” he said thoughtfully. “Obviously she couldn’t ask you or Lottie.”

  “What do you mean obviously?” Charlotte huffed. She had bent over backwards to hide her feelings for Rich.

  He gave her a long, appraising look. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?” Was he trying to be evasive?

  Rich leaned his head on the back of the chair and laughed heartily. “Thank you, Charlotte. I haven’t had that good a laugh in weeks.” He chuckled again.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “If you don’t want to tell me what you did to make Belinda cry, say so. It’s none of my business anyway.”

  “How I made her cry?” Rich laughed again. “Not you, too.”

  “As I said—” Charlotte began.

  Rich interrupted. “Joanne actually accused me of having an affair with Belinda. Can you believe that? She’s only a couple of years older than Karen and Kathy. Do you know what I’d do to a man my age if I caught him sniffing around one of my daughters?” He finally took a breath. “Never mind the specifics, but you can believe I’d put a stop to it in a heartbeat. Anyway...” He started grinning. “Belinda already has a steady beau.”

  “She said there was a special man she wanted to impress,” Charlotte said slowly. Was it possible Rich wasn’t seeing Belinda? More to the point, was it possible he really wasn’t interested in her? “Maybe she’s involved with someone she works with.”

  Rich cackled. “No. No. It’s not anybody at work.” His voice turned serious. “Fascinating. You’re so perceptive about other people. Then, when the situation involves you, the observation meter is stuck on zero.”

  “You can change the subject without dabbling in psychoanalysis.” What pleasure did he find in this silly game?

  “Oh, we’re still on the same topic.” Rich’s smile broadened. “You know, Belinda has lived a pretty rough life. She thinks if a guy doesn’t start pawing on her right away he must not find her attractive. So I commend you, Dr. Phillips. You raised your son to be a gentleman.”

  “My son? What does Chris have to do with anything we’ve been talking about? I’m sure he’s not responsible for Belinda’s tears.” She stopped. Images flashed into her head. Her son and Belinda standing apart from everyone else at the funeral, in earnest conversation. The two of them whispering together at the Philippine feast. “Chris and Belinda?” Charlotte asked. “She said she wanted to impress a man. Chris isn’t a man. He’s, well, he’s...”

  “Your little boy?” Rich finished her sentence. “You might think of Chris as a man if you were twenty. Anyway, he seems to have Belinda convinced. I suspect he may also be aware she’s a woman. Basic science could be a factor. You know, biology, chemistry.” He chuckled again. “You must be the only person north of the Rio Grande River who hasn’t noticed.”

  “Mother doesn’t know,” Charlotte insisted.

  Rich roared with laughter. He stomped his feet and pounded his thigh. “Miss Lottie wired this whole circuit, pole to switch, she and her able accomplice Anita. They’re two of the slickest operators I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing at work and I’ve known some of the best. As a matter of fact, those two should go international. They could run the CIA right out of business.”

  Charlotte recalled her conversation with Lottie and Anita as they had shopped with Belinda. The “he” Lottie and Anita kept referring to was Chris. Of course! No wonder the garbage disposal worked fine when Charlotte checked it. “I need to have a serious talk with my mother,” she said and joined in Rich’s laughter.

  Rich stood slowly. “I think I can face talking with people about my dad again now. Thanks for making me forget about the funeral for a while.” He paused as if to say something else, then quickly turned and left the room.

  Charlotte was relieved to have some time to gather her thoughts, something she could not do when Rich was near. Funerals always made Charlotte remember her father. He worked so hard to keep her from overprotecting Chris to the point of smothering him. What would Daddy say about Chris and Belinda? He would probably hug her and suggest she let the kids have a little fun. Sure, she wanted Chris to fall in love, someday after he’d finished his education. She looked forward to his finding the right girl, getting married, and having children. If only there could be a guarantee he would never have to go through a divorce or have his precious little heart broken by a faithless partner.

  You would die for your kid, Daddy had once told her, but you can’t live for him. He has to do that for himself. Charlotte prayed Chris could avoid repeating her mistakes.

  Even more than heartbreak, Charlotte wanted to protect her son from the loneliness she had endured since Mark left. She thanked God for her family and friends. They meant so much. Still, try as she might, she could never completely extinguish her secret yearning for an intimate partner, a companion to share her life with. That hunger intensified when Chris went away to school, leaving the house so silent and empty.

  Lottie’s position was clear enough. She had started digging into her quiver of Cupid’s arrows as soon as Charlotte and Chris were on their own. Charlotte wondered what her daddy’s advice would be. Would he understand how hard it was for her to risk being hurt again? Probably not. Giving up was never Jim Browne’s option. He expected a zero and five team to play as hard as a championship squad. If they want to play for me, he’d joke, they have to be smart enough to understand the game and dumb enough to think it’s important.

  Charlotte wiped a tear as she thought how much she missed her daddy. He was always so strong, so good to her and to Lottie. And how he could make them laugh! She had thought no one would ever again make her laugh the way Jim Browne had, until she met Rich.

  Buster wandered in and sat at Charlotte’s feet. She thought perhaps his master had sent him to her. Ridiculous, she decided. She rubbed Buster’s fur and stared out the window. She wondered if Rich had met a woman in Mexico. If not, soon enough he would join the singles group at the fellowship and find someone there. She was surprised to find that Joanne, while attractive, was no femme fatale. Charlotte wondered if she deceived herself by thinking there was a glimmer of hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Christmas afternoon found San Antonio’s children wearing shorts and playing outside with their new toys. Tourists strolled the River Walk proudly picking up souvenir sunburns to wear home. The Martino home was as packed as Charlotte had ever seen it. Garlands and decorated trees brought Christmas into every room. A life-size nativity scene graced the front lawn. People who live without the slightest chance of snow must create their own holiday atmosphere.

  Rich gave a formal reception to Scott and Amy as a wedding gift. Their College Station wedding had been small and informal. Rich convinced the Anselmos they should take one last chance to dress up and party with their friends before they left for the mission in the Philippines.

  Charlotte congratulated herself on being early enough to get a parking place along the circular driveway. She smiled when she caught a glimpse of a beaming Belinda in the lavender dress, the one Lottie was so sure Chris would like. There was an explosion of laughter from the area where Chris and Belinda stood.

  Charlotte realized why when Rich caught up to her and said, “Hors d’oeuvre, madam?” He offered a lovely selection of Mexican sail boats. The ugly chip-and-sausage concoctions looked utterly out of place against a pale green linen napkin spread across an ornate silver tray. Charlotte burst out laughing. “Two down and one to go,” Rich said with a flourish, “now to the family room and Miss Lottie.”

  Amy came to stand beside Charlotte. “This cake is bigger than the one we had for our actual wedding.”

  “You know Rich. He always gives a first-class party.”

  “He’s been wonderful to us,” Amy said. “Scott can say ‘Point to where it hurts’ in Tagalog and only a trace of Boston comes through.” She nibbled at her cake. “I can’t bel
ieve Rich is going to come to the Philippines and help us get settled over there. He’s the answer to our prayers.”

  Scott whisked Amy away to introduce her to a late arrival. Charlotte wondered if the familiar caterer was responsible for the beautiful Christmas-themed wedding buffet. Sure enough, she found the same tiny lady ruling the kitchen regally issuing orders, checking trays, and occasionally tasting a dish before letting it leave the room.

  “Good evening, Pacita.” Charlotte spoke slowly and enunciated carefully.

  “Hey. How’s it going?” The caterer’s south Texas twang took Charlotte by surprise.

  Because of the lovely weather, the reception spilled out into the backyard. Groups of people lingered by the pool, on the patio, strolling under the trees. Buster padded up to Charlotte with his tail wagging energetically. He had a black bow tie attached to the front of his collar and a carnation on the back. Charlotte smiled and knelt to pet him. “Buster, are you getting married, you old two-timer?” She rubbed his ears. “You were my last hope.”

  Drifting away from a group of people who animatedly debated the merits of various cancer therapies, she looked for Lottie in the family room, but her mother was nowhere in sight. She ran into the dentist and his wife from her study group at the Fellowship and talked with them for a long time. As the crowd began to thin, Charlotte said goodnight to her friends from church. She found Scott and Amy by the pool and wished them a long and happy married life together. When she could not locate Lottie or Chris, she guessed they had left. Rich was nowhere to be found either.

  Charlotte had parked with the front of her vehicle snug against a huge oak tree. Now there was a car on either side and a van blocking her from the rear. Though she could search for the van owner and ask them to move, she decided she’d rather wait a while and hope the other driver would leave.

  Having already said goodnight to everyone she could find, Charlotte retreated to the deserted living room. Was it only seven months ago she had first seen Rich Martino in this lovely room?

  Nancy Martino must have had exquisite taste. The walls and carpet were ecru. The Chinese area rug had an ivory background with geometric decorations in every shade of blue. The blue and white theme was repeated in the floral sofas and occasional chairs. Throw pillows in a bright shade of cerise provided a sophisticated contrast to the muted blue and white tones.

  “Is this a private party or may I join you?” Charlotte turned to see Rich standing behind her.

  “I was going to leave, but there’s a van blocking my car,” she explained. Rich was handsome in any kind of attire. In his tuxedo he was devastating. It occurred to Charlotte there should be a law against any man looking that delicious. He even smelled yummy.

  “Do you want me to try to find the van’s owner?”

  “Let’s wait a while and see if he moves.” Charlotte took refuge in a navy blue wing chair on the far side of the room. She had to put some distance between her and this man she dared not touch.

  Rich began to pace. He strode the length of the room before turning to face her. “There are some things I have to do,” he said.

  “Yes?” She didn’t want to pry.

  “I’m going to help Scott and Amy for a while. I’ll introduce them to some of my old friends in that area who will take care of them. And I want to see Rocky’s family.”

  “Who’s Rocky?’ she asked.

  “Rocky was my best friend in grade school. He saved my life when we were twelve years old. Seventy-five pounds of human wrapped around twenty tons of courage. It’s a long story I’ll tell you sometime.” Rich seemed lost in thought for a few moments. “It cost a few of Jerry’s green stamps, but my tourist visa is good for three months. I’m leaving next week, expecting to be home in March.”

  “Three months is a long time.” Say what you feel, she thought. “I’ll miss you.”

  “You will?” Rich stopped pacing, his eyes searching her face.

  “Yes.” Leave it all on the field, Charlotte. Make your daddy proud. “Very much.”

  Rich stared at her for a long moment, then resumed pacing. “How good are your reflexes?” He tossed her a round red object slightly smaller than a golf ball.

  She caught the pouch in mid air. It was made of quilted red silk, drawn up with a ribbon. Was she supposed to open it? Keep it for his return?

  “I’ve been carrying that around for weeks, trying to think of a way to give it, to ask you.” He stood very near. “Surely by now you’ve figured out I’m in love with you.”

  Every assumption Charlotte had made concerning Rich was instantly cancelled. He was in love with her? The answer to her prayer was yes!? Thank you, Dear Lord...thank you!

  Come on, Charlotte. Say something. Something clever if possible, but something. Nothing came out. For the first time in her life Charlotte Phillips was speechless.

  He walked away from her. “I understand you will need to think this over and pray about it. I’m not asking you for an answer right now. If you ever decide you could care for me you can put that on.” He nodded toward the pouch. “If I see you wearing the ring, I’ll know you’re willing to discuss marriage with me.”

  Charlotte’s fingers shook as she fumbled to untie the ribbon. Had Rich said he wanted to discuss marriage with her? Inside the pouch was a delicate art deco ring with a huge square-cut diamond. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at the ring in her hand. Could this wonderful thing really be happening?

  “That was my mother’s. She loved jewelry.” Rich peered out the window. “If you remember, Charlotte, I asked you once why God allowed terrible things to happen in the world. Now I understand He didn’t make the mess. We did. People. And I have contributed more than my share. I can’t undo the past, but I can alter my course for the future.” Rich walked closer and looked at her. “I have to help Scott and Amy. After that, there will be another mission. I have to do more than send money. I have to go and try to make a difference. Personally. I hope you can understand.”

  “Yes, Rich, I do understand. I admire your commitment.” Finally she had said something. Charlotte cleared her throat. “I must say, you have taken me by surprise. It appears you’re asking me to become your fifth wife. We’ve never been on a date. You’ve never even kissed me.”

  He smiled ever so slightly. “Are those your only objections, Charlotte?”

  “I think so.”

  That big, incredible smile burst forth as he stepped closer. “Number one. I’m asking you to be my last wife. Number two. We haven’t officially gone on dates, but we know each other very well.” Rich stopped and snapped his fingers. “Wait. I took you to dinner at Tia Maria’s. You can’t deny it—I can produce witnesses. And number three, I would be delighted to fix you up with an old-fashioned kiss anytime you say the word.”

  She stood, almost touching him. “Now.”

  Slowly he put a hand on each of her arms and placed them around his neck. He slipped one hand between her shoulder blades and drew her closer. With the other hand he stroked her cheek. He ran his fingers over her ear to the back of her neck and pulled her into a tender, gentle kiss that lingered and grew more urgent.

  “I love you,” Charlotte whispered when she could breathe again.

  “And I love you, my darling Charlotte.”

  She held up the ring. “Why don’t you see if this fits me?”

  “Let’s do this right.” Rich knelt on one knee, holding Charlotte’s left hand with both of his. “Charlotte, darling, will you marry me?”

  “Yes. I will,” she breathed.

  Rich slipped the magnificent ring on the third finger of her left hand.

  “It fits perfectly.” Charlotte held out her hand.

  “Of course it does.” Rich stood again. “Anita had it sized.”

  “Anita?” She couldn’t finish her question because he was kissing her again.

  The phone in Rich’s breast pocket began to vibrate against Charlotte’s cheek. He held her close with one arm and retrieved his phone wi
th the other. “Caller ID is great,” he chuckled.

  Charlotte nestled her head into Rich’s chest as he put the phone to his ear. “Hello. Yes, ma’am. She sure did. You want to talk to her?” After a short pause, he said, “We’re still in the living room”.

  “Your mother,” Rich said, putting away his phone and showering kisses across Charlotte’s forehead. “She wanted to make sure you said yes.”

  “My—”

  Again he smothered her question with a long, deep kiss.

  “She went to find Martha and tell her.” Rich looked a little sheepish. “I think Martha may already know.”

  “How in the world would Martha—” He kissed her again.

  “This kissing is a rather effective conversation stopper, wouldn’t you say? Nice, too. Martha spends a lot of time with Jerry. I told Jerry when I confronted him about Dad’s will.”

  Pacita stuck her head in and said something unintelligible to Rich.

  “Yes, she knows now,” he responded, smiling at Charlotte.

  “Then I’ll move my van,” the woman said. “Congratulations.”

  “What do I know now?” Charlotte asked.

  “When Pacita caught me giving you a foot massage, she said I was a bad boy. I told her you were going to marry me, but you didn’t know it yet.”

  “You were pretty confident,” she said with pretended indignation.

  “Let’s just say I have great faith in the power of prayer.”

  He led her to the sofa and slung his left arm around her possessively. “Let’s get married as soon as I get back from the Philippines this spring. I want to take you to France for our honeymoon. I’m thinking a car, not bicycles, but everything else you wanted. We’ll start in Paris, take a leisurely trip through the wine country. Cheese, wine—for you—and French all the way to the Riviera.” He pressed her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. “Charlotte, my love, I want to take care of you, pamper you, make all of your dreams come true.” He studied her hand. “Why wouldn’t you need to pray about a decision as important as marriage?”