by Anne Conley
Les continued speaking, but Charlie didn’t hear him. He was talking about her. That knowledge sent bubbles of apprehension floating up her insides. She reached for her glass of water, gulping it down, signaling for more from the wait staff on the perimeter of the room.
It was a powerful name, a strong name. They talked about her, probably standing around the water cooler, extrapolating answers about her life from the little information they’d managed to glean. They thought they had her all figured out.
She felt the flush of righteous indignation rise in her at the idea of strangers discussing her very private life as if she were a Sunday afternoon Cowboys game.
Would Les ever be able to understand why she did what she did? Would he still want to be with her once he knew? Everything inside Charlie told her he would, even though the fear of telling him nearly paralyzed her.
Charlie managed to sit there, smiling vaguely until the speeches were over. Then she excused herself to go to the restroom. Once behind the closed door, she stood in front of the mirror, hands on the sink.
“Charlie, you can’t tell him. He won’t understand. It’s time to end this once and for all.” She washed her hands, giving herself the stink-eye until someone else came into the restroom with her. It was Rachel.
Wearing a simple black sheath with her brunette hair pulled up in a twist, Rachel oozed understated elegance. She’d been friendly enough the entire meal, but Charlie had still been wary of her. Especially since she was the only one who had a chance of knowing who she was.
“You haven’t told Les, have you?” Rachel’s eyes were kind, not accusatory, and Charlie warmed toward her slightly. But she still kept her guard up.
“Told him what?” Choosing to play innocent, Charlie moved to dry her hands. The bathroom was large, modified to be a public restroom, probably an old bedroom, but she still had to scoot past Rachel.
“You’re The Liberator. I saw you once, a couple of months back, when you dropped off Alicia.”
As if she knew their names. She scoffed. “I wish.” She turned her back to the woman, afraid her lie would show. “I’m no hero.”
“Whatever.” Rachel turned on the water. “I think he would understand.”
“Nothing to understand. I’m not her,” Charlie mumbled as she opened the door to leave.
“Wait!” Charlie turned, her eyebrow raised in challenge.
Rachel stood there, her hand on her hip, water still running. “We all have pasts. If you love him, you’ll let him in. If he loves you, he’ll understand and accept it. I think you’re half-way there.”
“Don’t pretend to know anything about me, Rachel.” Charlie stumbled out of the restroom, mind whirling. She didn’t understand anything anymore. Her carefully constructed life was crumbling around her all because of one man.
She had been born into drug-addled poverty. She had managed to climb out of the shittiest of shitty situations, and learn from her past mistakes to mold herself into a respected business owner, a woman with a good life, making a good living, rescuing girls. Her therapy had been working. She’d managed to make something of herself, despite her upbringing.
And then she’d run into Les. Les, the nice guy with the shiny smile and all the friends, who everybody loved. Les, the musician, the humanitarian, the builder, the man she couldn’t keep out of her head, or her panties. Les, who brought a torrent of repressed memories and emotions flooding to the surface.
She didn’t have room for him in her life. If she let him in her life, she’d have to let him into everything, or else it wouldn’t be fair to him. He would give her his all, like he did everything else, and she wouldn’t be able to give it back to him.
With an unbelievable feeling of impending doom settling in the pit of her stomach, Charlie walked back to the table, watching Les laugh and chatter with his friends. His smile was a beacon to her, drawing her nearer to a fate she didn’t deserve. She sat, feeling like an outsider, despite Les’s arm around the back of her chair. It was all so surreal. Charlie had never had a close group of friends like this. Never really wanted one. She’d always been happy enough alone, she thought. She sat there, not really participating, just watching everybody joke and tease each other. It was almost as if she wasn’t even inside her own body, just floating above the table, as she was able to follow each of the three or four conversations happening around her at once.
“Next month? At the new place? Awesome!”
“We’ll be at the Gin Saturday. Come out and watch.”
“Shut. Up. You did not catch one that big. There aren’t even any catfish that size around here; you need a dam for that.”
“You got that dress here in town? It’s gorgeous!”
“When are we going for another slice of pie? I need me some lemon icebox in the worst way.”
All friends, making plans, telling stories, and sharing connections she’d never had, couldn’t relate to. Occasionally, her eyes would drift over to Rachel, watching her interact. She never gave any clue to their conversation in the bathroom, for which Charlie felt nothing but relief. Thankfully, the subject of the Liberator didn’t come up again.
When the crowd began to disperse, there was a small torrent of people standing and walking past her chair, just before someone whispered in her ear. The voice froze her in time, and she closed her eyes as it grated across her skin.
“You are my diamond in the rough.” Not someone. Him. His voice sounded weaker than she remembered, but it was unmistakable.
Her head and body spun around to see The Man while her heart stopped. There was nobody behind her, where the voice had come from.
Les asked her, “What’s wrong, Charlie?” When she turned back to her front to face him, her eyes caught on her empty place setting, where the servers had cleared everything away.
The raccoon was sitting on the table in front of her. He’d left it for her.
“He’s here…” She whispered it to herself, but Les heard her.
“Who? Charlie, you’re so pale.” He grabbed her hand and saw the small child’s meal toy on the table. “What’s this?” He picked it up, and she smacked it out of his hands. It bounced across the table, where Les’s friends were all looking at her, mouths in various stages of openness, silently staring at her outburst. Charlie didn’t care.
“Don’t touch it. It’s evil. He put it there.” She wasn’t making any sense, but didn’t see how she could. Her vision was tunneled on the innocent looking creature, lying on its side on the other side of the table, a child’s toy that represented a childhood she’d never had.
Her heart pounded in her ears, a loud whooshing sound that wiped out all ambient noises. Her bowels loosened and she could feel the blood drain from her face. She knew she would pass out if she couldn’t get her body under control.
Charlie stood, her entire body shaking, as she spun around, trying to find The Man. She knew he was here, and she was angry that he had reduced her to a trembling mass of fear. She suddenly wanted to kill him.
If she could find him.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” Les’s arms were around her. “Oh God. You’re shaking like a leaf. Let’s get out of here.” He tried to turn her, to lead her away, but Charlie resisted.
“Find him, Les.” Black started creeping around the edges of her vision, and she knew the night wasn’t going to end well for her and Les.
“Who?”
“The Man.”
Les’s face was fading away into a fog, but she saw concern clearly etched on his features, as he asked the final question of the night. “What man? Charlie?”
Holding her limp body in his arms, Les felt impotent. Frantically looking around, he found Rachel’s astute gaze on them.
“You know something about this?” She shook her head.
“Not really, but I think I can find out. Let me go make some calls.” Rachel stood and stoically left the table, while her husband, Sam, came around to take Charlie’s pulse.
“She’s okay,�
� Sam said after a quick examination. “She’s just fainted. She might need some oxygen, and I’ve got a tank in my Jeep, but other than that, she’ll be fine.”
Les scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her out of the crowd. “Move back, please. I just need to get her some fresh air.” He heard the command in his voice and honestly had no clue where it was coming from. He was scared shitless. Somebody had come into his function and scared the life out of his girl, and he was going to find out who it was, and what had her so terrified.
Renae followed him to Sam’s Jeep while Sam unlocked it. Rachel had disappeared when he’d given his instructions to find out what Charlie was talking about, and Les knew she was on the job. Her tireless efficiency and endless resources were a boon to the Refuge, and Les would use them to his advantage.
Renae’s voice broke through his fog. “I saw who it was, Les. I mean… I didn’t know him, I’ve never seen him before, but I got a look at the man who was talking to her when she… reacted.”
Sam had the Jeep door open and Les deposited Charlie on the seat. “Get with Rachel. She may want you with one of the composite artists to get a picture. I want this guy.”
Putting the oxygen mask over her face, Sam asked, “Who do you think it is?”
Les raked his hand through his hair in a gesture of complete and utter frustration. “I have no fucking clue, but he’s the key I need to unlock what the hell has happened to her. And I’m going to find him.”
When Charlie came to in a strange vehicle surrounded by familiar faces, she latched on to the one who could do the most damage to her already broken psyche. The one she needed the most.
Les was holding her hand and wiping her face with a cool cloth. Memories rushed back at her while he removed the mask from her face. So she’d passed out after all.
She knew she had to talk to Les, because now there was no way she’d ever be rid of him. And she wasn’t sure she really wanted to at this point.
“Take me home, please, Les?” Silently, he gathered her in his arms.
“Of course.”
“I can walk.”
“Of course you can. Let me do this,” he grumbled at her as he walked over to his borrowed truck and deposited her in the passenger seat.
When they go to her home, Les opened the door for her and walked her to her front porch. Charlie turned to him awkwardly. “Will you spend the night with me?” This was the most difficult thing she’d ever had to ask anyone. Ever.
His eyes lit up warily. “Of course I will, Sweetness, but why?”
Well, of course he would want to know why. She swore he had a vagina down there somewhere. Any guy would have jumped at the chance without needing to know her reasoning behind it.
“Because I’m scared, that’s why.” She tried not to pout the words out, but sounded churlish nonetheless. Thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, after she let him in, he walked around and checked the locks on all her doors and windows before turning to her.
“I wasn’t going to let you stay here alone anyway. Thanks for asking me.” She shrugged, all out of energy to argue anymore.
Upstairs in her room, she changed in front of him and watched as he carefully removed his tux. This was something they’d done before, but tonight it seemed more intimate somehow, and not in a sexual manner. It was as if tonight was the start of something different. Something meaningful.
But Charlie was still full of The Man and the fact he’d actually put in an appearance. She took note of the fact that Les checked his cell phone before laying it carefully on the side table and slipping under the covers.
Wordlessly, she climbed in next to him and allowed him to cuddle. He didn’t even try to make a pass at her, and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
When she awoke the next morning, the list of things she had to do that day weighed heavily on her mind. Charlie’s body felt like it was made of lead. Everything felt heavy, and she knew it was because she had a lot to do today, and none of it was pleasant. Lots of words needed to be said, for her sake as well as others. Words were heavy in her heart, and the only way to lighten her insides was to get rid of the words.
So the first thing she did was call her shrink to make an appointment. Pauline was eager to help, and said she could stop by later that afternoon to talk. Relief mixed with trepidation filled Charlie, but she had more words to let out.
Last night had been intense, and Les had been with her the whole time. She had to give the man credit. He’d seen her during some pretty low times, and stayed with her without knowing why. As scary as it was to let him in, she knew deep down that she needed to. He could help her. Maybe even save her.
Now, to find him. He had to be around here somewhere. As if reading her mind, Les appeared in her doorway, two steaming cups of coffee in his hand, looking sexy as sin in his tuxedo pants from last night and a white undershirt. He’d used her shower, and tiny droplets of water speckled his shoulders where they’d dripped from his hair.
“Good morning, Sweetness.” God love him. His face had unasked questions written all over it, but he apparently knew better than to ask what he undoubtedly was dying to know. Charlie knew she had to tell him what happened last night, but the words she needed to say were heavy, and she didn’t have the strength to let them loose yet. She had other words to say to other people, easier words that would lessen the burden enough to hopefully tell Les what he needed to know.
“You brought me coffee? Thanks.” She scooted over while he came and sat next to her on the bed, handing her the mug.
“Um… I don’t want you staying by yourself today, not after whatever happened last night.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek and continued, “I’m not going to ask what the hell happened that scared you so badly, because I know better. I can only hope you’ll tell me on your own someday. But it scared me too, Charlie. I want to help. And your safety is very important to me.” He sighed heavily, as if he was afraid of her reaction, and it made her smile.
“I know it is. And I appreciate it. I’ve got stuff to do today, though; I’ll be out of the house. I’ll be fine.”
“You were out of the house last night, too. Let me come with you.”
Charlie shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.” She tried to reassure the uneasy man sitting next to her. “I promise I’ll be okay. He’s just trying to scare me; he caught me off guard last night, is all. He won’t hurt me.”
“How do you know that? I might feel better if I knew who he was, Charlie.” His eyes were pleading with her to open up to him, but she stood firm. She would tell him, but she didn’t feel like flaying herself alive this morning.
“He’s someone from my past, someone I didn’t think I’d ever see again.”
“Is he Adam?”
The name sent a shock through her. “No. He’s not. Adam wouldn’t scare me like that.” Although Adam might have more information about when The Man got out of prison. Maybe she should call him today too. Ugh… More words.
“Will you keep in touch with me today? Let me know you’re okay?” His brow furrowed, and Charlie reached out her hand to smooth the wrinkles there.
Desperate to change the subject, she forced a light-hearted smile on her face. “You did a great job last night with your speech. I didn’t realize you were the key-note.”
Looking sheepish, Les smiled at this lap. “Yeah, well, that’s my purpose for being on the board. They told me they needed somebody affable, sort of a liaison between the organization and the community.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been dreading that for months.”
“You did well. I wouldn’t have known you were nervous. Everyone was captivated,” Charlie tried to reassure him.
“Yeah, well it helped that you and the gang were there.”
“Did y’all go to high school together?” Charlie needed to change the subject, get Les talking about himself. She settled back into her covers to listen to his soothing voice wash over her.
“Some of us.
Um, Brent, Max, Dalton and I were real close. Renae’s Dalton’s sister. And Brent’s little sister, Summer, who wasn’t there, was best friends with Casey. So yeah, most of us have known each other our whole lives.” She tried in vain to put names with faces, but the only one she could really remember was Rachel and the conversation in the restroom.
“So, how did Sam and Rachel come into the picture?” She was trying not to be obvious in her curiosity about Rachel, but she really wanted to know how close Les was to her. Did they tell each other everything? Or would Rachel keep her suspicions about Charlie to herself?
“Well, Rachel lived here awhile, and kept to herself mostly. But when Sam moved here a couple of years ago with his daughter, they hooked up and he convinced her to make her advocacy more local. She’s been volunteering with us for about six months, I guess. She works with the girls on a pretty personal level, counseling them about STDs and stuff. You wouldn’t believe some of the things these girls have been through, and none of them come out of it unscathed. Some of their afflictions are more physical, and she helps them deal with repercussions of STDs.”
“What an odd niche for a town this size…” Charlie mused.
“Rachel’s HIV positive. She works with the Health and Human Services office here in town, as well as several other non-profit organizations. She also runs a blog. That’s how she earns a living. She’s pretty cool to talk to about it.”
Well, that explains what she meant about letting Les into her past. She’d apparently had to do that with Sam. Suddenly, she was more interested in Rachel than she cared to admit. Was there actually a kindred spirit here in Serendipity? Someone who would understand her on a friendship level? The idea of mani-pedis with another woman wasn’t really her style, but someone she could invite over to share a six-pack of beer might be cool. Someone she might be comfortable around? Sharing some of her past?
