Charlie's Angels

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Charlie's Angels Page 7

by Cheryl St. John


  “I can take care of that, too.”

  For the next couple of hours they enjoyed the movie and the popcorn, and then he showed her the extra footage and behind-the-scenes features and how to operate the remote.

  “This is great,” she said. “Do you even have to go the movies anymore?”

  “Rarely. I buy these online and have them delivered to my post office box in town.”

  She shook her head. “I remember when it was a big deal to go to a movie.”

  “I remember when my mom used to make popcorn in a big kettle on the stove,” he said.

  Starla grinned. “My aunt made popcorn balls.”

  Charlie scooted the bowl aside with his foot and propped both feet on the coffee table. “So you do have some good memories of your childhood?”

  She nodded. “I had fun with my cousins when I stayed with them. We used to run through the sprinkler and set up lemonade stands. Sometimes we’d just lay in the grass and stared at the clouds.”

  “And picked out animal shapes,” he guessed.

  She looked at him. “Yes.”

  His eyes were dark with an unspoken sadness. “I want those things for Meredith.”

  “What makes you think she won’t have them?”

  “My two adoptive brothers live a few hours away, but she sees her cousins only occasionally. Five boys, by the way. I wanted to live out here to be away from people, but sometimes I wonder if that was such a good choice.”

  “The town isn’t that far,” Starla pointed out. “What is it, about eight miles?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “And she goes to kindergarten. She’ll have friends. Looks to me like you’ve made good choices for her. She’s extraordinarily smart and inquisitive. It’s plain that she adores you and that the two of you are quite happy together here. I’d have given anything to have had a home like this when I was a kid.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Charlie stood. “I want to throw another coat of tung oil on a piece before I turn in.”

  He had just closed the subject, and Starla felt as though she’d been prying. She wanted to ask him if she could come along and see his shop, but she sensed his need to be by himself.

  “Do you mind if I look through the pantry and cupboards?” She got to her feet, as well. “I’d like to fix breakfast tomorrow if it’s okay. In fact, while I’m here I don’t mind cooking all the meals. No insult intended, of course.”

  “I’m not insulted, but I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. You’re our guest.”

  She carried her cup toward the kitchen, set it near the sink and turned to find him behind her carrying his own. “It would just give me something to do and make me feel useful.”

  He set down his mug and met her eyes. “Okay, then. If you like.”

  She gave him a warm smile.

  His gaze caressed her hair and her features and made her heart flutter. Starla’s breath hitched beneath Charlie’s warm perusal. He seemed lonely, hungry, enigmatic in those moments before he turned his attention away. “Okay then,” he said again and disappeared through the doorway to his shop.

  Starla set their cups together in the sink and stared at them, just then noticing that her heart had to catch its natural rhythm.

  From Charlie’s bedroom she gathered her clothing and toiletries and carried them upstairs. One bedroom was furnished with a twin maple set, like something either Charlie or his wife had brought from their childhood home. The other held a full-size bed with a mahogany sleigh-style headboard and footboard and matching dressers, a comfortable chair and a desk and television. Starla selected that room, stored her few belongings and showered.

  She dried her hair, dressed in her white silk nightgown and dressing gown, and stood before the enormous windows to watch flakes of snow swirling in the darkness. She couldn’t help imagining what Charlie had been like when his wife was alive, his family had been complete and when he didn’t have that lonely, haunted look in his dark eyes.

  She ached inside for his loss and obvious grief. And she envied the woman who had inspired such love and adoration. Sometimes she wondered if she was fated to live out her life as a single woman, never knowing the assurance and completeness of a husband to love her, children to nurture and watch grow.

  She had made up her mind to accept her life and be fulfilled in whatever the future held. And except for a lonely day or night now and then she’d been secure in her independence and self-sufficiency. Why she felt more vulnerable and isolated than usual while being here with the McGraws she didn’t know. But she wasn’t going to give in to the emotions and she wasn’t going to let her optimism slip.

  In a few days the Silver Angel would be pulled out, she’d be on the road, and this experience would be behind her. Until then she would keep in contact with her friend and assistant manager via phone and handle any problems that came up with the final preparations for the Hidden Treasure’s grand opening.

  She would just enjoy this unexpected vacation and its pleasant diversion and not let herself think too much. Or feel too much—she could feel a lot for the McGraws if she allowed herself. She wouldn’t.

  Chapter Six

  Waking early, Meredith peeked in her daddy’s room to find him sleeping in his own bed. The angel lady must be upstairs. She wished she could read her favorite book but she wasn’t allowed to have it for one week. One week was a very long time, but her daddy said it was fair for what she’d done and she believed him. He didn’t like to punish her.

  Silently she tiptoed up the stairs. The door to one bedroom was standing open, but no one was in there. Starla, the angel lady, must be in the other one. She wasn’t supposed to open a door without knocking, but the other door was open a little, so it probably didn’t count as all the way shut.

  Meredith pushed open the door.

  The beautiful lady was sleeping in the sleigh bed that used to be in daddy’s room before he got a new bed. The sun that streamed through the part in the curtains touched her hair and made it look like a halo. It was as pretty and shiny as the angel’s hair.

  Daddy told her Starla wasn’t a angel. He just didn’t know. Starla said she wasn’t a angel, too, but she prob’ly had to keep it a secret in case everybody wanted miracle dust and there wasn’t enough.

  Starla’s shiny white robe was hung on the corner of the headboard, and as Meredith crept closer, she saw the white gown the angel wore to sleep. She didn’t know angels slept. Maybe she was dreaming about what she had to do.

  Meredith’s gaze darted to the tubes and bottles on the counter in the nearby bathroom. Did Starla keep her miracle dust in one of those? Meredith tiptoed into the bathroom and peered at the containers and the open zippered bag. A little tube of something glittery caught her attention.

  But she mustn’t get into other people’s stuff, that was a naughty thing for sure, so she just studied it closely, then backed away.

  Starla opened her eyes and sat up as Meredith moved back into the bedroom. “Meredith? Is anything wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t touch nothing.”

  Starla glanced at the clock. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I was done sleeping,” she said with a shrug.

  The angel lady’s shiny hair fell over her shoulders as she stretched and got out of bed. “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded.

  “Let me dress and I’ll come down and start some breakfast, okay?”

  “You can cook?”

  Starla’s smile was so pretty it made Meredith feel warm and happy inside. “I do okay,” she replied.

  Meredith wanted Starla to smile at Daddy and make him feel warm and happy inside, too. “Are we going to wake up my daddy?”

  “We’ll let him sleep a little longer. You can help me cook, okay?”

  Meredith moved to the door. “Okay!”

  Charlie dreamed he was at a party. It was one of those elusive shape-shifting dreams where people morphed int
o others and it made perfect sense.

  Starla was there, dressed in a shimmering white beaded gown with clusters of diamonds at her ears and throat. She was the most beautiful woman in the room and she had eyes and smiles only for him. He felt ten feet tall. An orchestra played “Winter Wonderland” and he held her in his arms and they danced effortlessly, fluidly. As the music was playing, Charlie was kissing her, stroking her velvet skin and lustrous hair and she made sexy little sounds of appreciation and arousal.

  The room and the others fell away and he and Starla were inside the sleeper of the Silver Angel, the radio still playing Christmas music. Snow fell outside, but the two of them were wrapped in a heated embrace and he was preparing to slip himself inside her warm moist welcoming heat. He’d never been so turned on or so hard.

  Beneath his hands, her body changed, her hair darkened, and Starla was replaced by another woman. A woman he recognized instantly. Charlie now held his dark-haired wife.

  Kendra’s eyes revealed how stricken she was at his betrayal.

  Charlie shot away from her quickly, backed into the cab of the truck and fell instead out the door and into the freezing snow.

  He jolted awake.

  He had a hard-on the size of Toledo.

  His heart was beating as though he’d been running.

  Christmas music floated from the other room.

  Pushing out of bed, he stumbled into the bathroom, ran water and stared at his blurry eyes in the mirror. What a hell of a dream. He’d known it would be trouble sleeping in that bed after she’d been in it. He shaved, showered, dressed and had his lust under control when he found his daughter and their guest in the kitchen.

  Starla was wearing a pair of baby-blue jogging pants with a wide striped waistband that rode low on her hips and a small fitted sweatshirt that exposed an inch of skin at her waist. The inch might as well have been a mile for the direction in which Charlie’s thoughts revolved at the sight.

  He made an immediate left turn to the cupboard and the coffeepot and busied himself pouring a cup.

  “Daddy, look what me an’ Starla are doing! We made scones and we’re cutting up fruit!”

  “Scones? I don’t think I’ve ever had one.” He took a seat at the counter.

  “Morning, Charlie,” Starla said.

  Just her voice brought back the dream and the image of pressing her down on the mattress in her sleeper, warm flesh against warm flesh…. He lost his grip on his mug. “Shit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Er, sorry. Good morning.” He grabbed a paper towel from the counter and wiped his sleeve.

  “Give your daddy his plate, sweetie,” Starla said to Meredith.

  His daughter reached on tiptoe to push a plate of fruit and a wedge-shaped biscuit thing in front of him. “Thanks.”

  The scones, filled with nuts and dried fruit, were delicious and he ate three. “Where’d you get the recipe?” he asked Starla.

  “It’s not difficult to remember,” she replied. “Basically just flour and soda and fruit.”

  Starla ate a scone and sipped tea. A brief glance at her lips against the cup and he ticked off something else that would have to be replaced once she’d gone.

  Meredith had nibbled on her scone, but instead dug into a bowl of cereal. “Is your work done now, Daddy?” she asked, milk dripping from her chin.

  He nodded and wiped her chin with his napkin. “I finished up last night. Now I just sit by and wonder if anyone will have their presents for Christmas.”

  “It couldn’t be helped,” Starla said. “You did your part.”

  “Can we do something together today, then?” Meredith asked.

  Charlie studied his daughter’s hopeful expression and felt guilt slice through him. “What would you like to do besides work on Grandma’s present?”

  “Can we go find our Christmas tree?”

  Charlie got up to go look out the patio doors at the weather. The sun was shining and the snow seemed to have let up, though the accumulation was deep. “Looks like an okay day. You know we have to walk through the snow? I’ll have to get out that old toboggan to carry the tree home.”

  Meredith squealed, jumped down from the stool and ran to throw her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you. We’ll have the very bestest Christmas tree ever!”

  “I’ll help you dress,” he told her. “You don’t have any thermals, so you can wear a pair of pajamas under your snowsuit.”

  “That’s funny, Daddy,” she said with a giggle. “Wearing my jammies to go outside.”

  “How about you?” he said to Starla. “Do you have clothes you can layer? I can find you something if not.”

  “I do happen to own thermals,” she said with a smile. “A trucker is always prepared for a winter emergency.”

  “Good. Meredith, eat your breakfast so we can go get ready.”

  His daughter was pleased to obey, finishing her cereal before she darted toward her room.

  “I’d better go supervise this,” he said and headed after her.

  Fifteen minutes later, the three of them, bundled in hats and coats and boots, made a stop at the garage for Charlie to locate the toboggan, mix gas and oil to fuel his chainsaw, and acquire a length of rope. Meredith settled herself on the sled and Charlie stowed the chainsaw behind her, then he and Starla trudged through the knee-deep drifts, Meredith riding behind.

  They had all worn sunglasses to ward off the glare of the bright light, and Charlie noticed what a disappointment it was not seeing Starla’s eyes. Even so, she was unbelievably beautiful, even with her hair hidden under a red-striped stocking cap, a pink flush on her cheeks. He really liked that old leather coat. Shame he’d have to give it away now.

  “How much of this land is yours?” she asked.

  “Five acres is all.”

  “All? Sounds like a lot to me.”

  “I’ve had a couple of offers to sell a piece here and there, but I like the idea of having no neighbors.”

  “You don’t seem like the hermit type, Charlie.”

  “I’m not a hermit.”

  “You just want to avoid people.”

  “The hassle,” he replied. “I avoid the hassle.”

  “People are a hassle?”

  “Some people.” They trudged onward and she didn’t say anything more. She probably didn’t want to pry, but he felt like he needed to give her more of an explanation. He didn’t want her having the wrong idea about him. He wasn’t antisocial. “Did you ever feel that you just weren’t up to others’ expectations?” he asked.

  She seemed to think a minute. “You mean that I didn’t live up to their expectations?”

  “No, I mean that you couldn’t deal with what they expected of you anymore.”

  “Well,” she replied, “my dad wanted an entirely different life than what I wanted. I just had to live his way until I was old enough to be on my own. Even then, I guess, I was hesitant to break completely away from him, since he’s the only family I have.”

  “Your life doesn’t seem all that different now than it was then, though,” he said. “Your dad was a trucker and here you are a trucker.”

  She laughed a little. “I guess that’s how it must seem. The rig is my dad’s. I was just doing him a favor by running this load. I’ve been away from the road for a few years.”

  “Oh.” That information caught him by surprise. “So what did you do over that time?”

  “Went to school. Settled down in a place of my own.”

  Now that made more sense. Starla seemed to want roots. “Where is your place?”

  “Maine.”

  A world away from his life. “I’ve never been there.”

  “It’s incredible. The freshest air. The best seafood.”

  Her voice held a passion he envied. He hadn’t felt passionate about anything for too long and his apathy had begun to concern him.

  “There’s lot of trees over there, Daddy!” Meredith called from behind.
r />   Charlie focused his attention on the task at hand and surveyed her findings. “We couldn’t fit those in the house, goose. We need something a little smaller.”

  Starla pointed to a stand of younger trees along a frozen stream. “How about one of those?”

  “Those are more like it.” They changed direction and he called back to his daughter, “Which one do you like?”

  Meredith jumped off the toboggan and found a path to walk where wind had blown the snow away and it was only ankle deep. “I like this one!”

  “Of course you do,” Charlie said with a smile frozen on his face. “It’s the biggest one.”

  “It is the prettiest,” Starla added.

  Charlie unwrapped the chainsaw from its canvas covering, removed his sunglasses and his coat, and walked toward the spruce his daughter was admiring. “Stand back by Starla,” he told her.

  Delightedly, she dashed away to stand with Starla, and the two females watched as Charlie donned a pair of protective goggles. He pulled the cord and the saw came to noisy life. Meredith squealed and covered her ears. Charlie found an appropriate angle on the trunk and started a cut.

  Several minutes later the blade cut through the last shred of wood and the tree toppled over.

  He stopped the saw and his ears rang. The scent of evergreen and fresh wood bit his nostrils. His senses seemed more alive than usual today.

  Meredith scampered over and delightedly admired the tree. “It’s smells so good!”

  “Let’s toss all the loose stuff,” he said, scraping away dead needles from the lower branches with his gloved hand.

  Meredith got more needles stuck in her mittens than she moved to the ground, but she helped and within minutes they had the tree on the toboggan and tied down.

  “There’s still room for me, Daddy!” Meredith pointed to the front, where only the freshly cut trunk lay on the front curl of the sled.

  “Okay, but you hold on,” he told her and settled her in place.

  Starla reached for the rope and shared the towing with him, which placed them side by side on the walk toward home. He carried his coat over his shoulder.

  A hill they’d gone down on the way took a lot longer to climb going back, and when they reached the top, Starla asked, “Can we take a breather?”

 

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