Charlie's Angels

by Cheryl St. John

  Now he was frightened to think maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with him after all, but that he’d simply never met a woman who made him feel strongly.

  He led Starla into his bedroom, undressed her in the pale light coming through the skylight and knelt in front of her, pressing his face to her satin skin and holding her close.

  She locked her fingers in his hair, and her body trembled.

  He made love to her with urgent desperation, using his hands and lips and body to convey the things he could never express in words. He woke during the night to find her gone, the other side of his bed empty and the door slightly ajar. One more night. One more night and even the brief pleasure he’d known tonight would be a memory.

  Charlie stared at the stars in the wintry sky and pressed every souvenir into his aching heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Starla woke early and placed her roast in the oven. After showering, she dressed in the black pantsuit she’d worn for the Christmas program, anchored her hair on her head and wore her all-purpose gold earrings and bracelet. She regretted not having more of her wardrobe here to select from, but Charlie’s parents didn’t seem the type to judge on appearance, and hopefully his brothers were the same.

  Glancing at the clock and knowing her dad was an early riser, she picked up her phone and called. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Merry Christmas, Star. Are you doing okay?”

  “Just great. Merry Christmas to you.” After telling him about the activities in town and about Meredith’s program, she filled him in on the latest preparations at the Hidden Treasure.

  “So, you’ve been keeping in touch with Geri, but I’ll bet you’re chomping at the bit to get back and get your hands dirty in that kitchen.”

  She stood looking out the window at the acres of sparkling snow. “It’ll be good to get back. I’m invited to the Phillipses’ for the day, but I had to talk to you before things got underway.”

  “Love you, Star.”

  “Love you, too, Dad. Tell Edith Merry Christmas for me.”

  “I will. Call when you get out of Iowa tomorrow.”

  Starla turned off her phone and returned to the kitchen. She prepared a quick breakfast of muffins and fruit and had them waiting when Meredith appeared from the hallway, her eyes alight with excitement. “Santa came! Look, Starla, Santa came! Where’s Daddy?”

  “He must be asleep,” she replied. “Go wake him.”

  He hadn’t been asleep, because when Meredith returned with Charlie in tow, he was dressed in slacks and a sweater and his hair was wet from the shower. “What smells so good?”

  “My mustard-glazed pork roast,” she replied, “and breakfast.”

  Meredith tugged him toward the Christmas tree. “Can I open ’em now?”

  “Go for it,” he replied.

  Starla took him a cup of coffee.

  Charlie looked her over appreciatively. “You’re beautiful this morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  Their eyes met and the idyllic night before was revealed in his warm gaze. Not having the freedom to move into his arms was a restriction that saddened her.

  Paper ripped and Meredith squealed.

  Starla turned and Charlie joined her to watch Meredith open packages.

  A mound of paper, books, skates and toys later, Charlie pointed and said, “That one’s from Starla.”

  Meredith picked up the gaily wrapped box. “You got me a present, Starla? Thank you!”

  She peeled back the paper to reveal a Barbie. Looking up with wide blue eyes, she said with all seriousness, “I wanted this my whole life.”

  Touched by her childish sincerity, Starla grinned and helped her open the box. After Starla unfastened the doll from all its packing restraints, Meredith took it and hugged her around the neck. She placed a damp kiss on Starla’s cheek.

  Starla held her warm, sturdy body close and discovered a feeling she’d never known. The little girl was unrestrained in her affections, honest and open, her innocence a sweet unaffected quality.

  With a lump in her throat, Starla experienced a glimpse of the responsibility Charlie bore. Raising and protecting the child was a weighty obligation, one Charlie took seriously. She admired him all the more for his bravery in taking on such a huge life task.

  Meredith pulled back. “We have a present for you, too.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh.” She turned and crawled under the low tree branches. “Is it here, Daddy? Here it is.” She showed the package to her dad first. “Is this the right one?”

  He nodded and she handed it to Starla.

  When had they had time to buy her a gift? The wrapped rectangle was heavy. She placed it in her lap and tore away the red paper. Inside was a wooden box. The top was carved with a star design, and the wood had been painstakingly stained and polished. She recognized Charlie’s detailed carving, and her heart fluttered with surprise. She caressed the finish reverently, thinking of Charlie’s gifted hands working the wood.

  “Open it,” Meredith prompted.

  Starla raised the lid. The interior was lined with purple velvet, and a pink plastic ring lay on the fabric.

  “I helped Daddy made the box, but the ring is only from me,” she said proudly.

  Starla took out the plastic ring and slipped it on her little finger. “I love pink.”

  She glanced at Charlie, who was watching with obvious self-consciousness. “It’s lovely, Charlie,” she said, her voice not as strong as she’d have liked. “I truly love it. Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “My gift for you isn’t nearly as thoughtful.”

  “You didn’t have to give me anything,” he said.

  She handed him a small package she’d placed under the tree that morning. He opened it to discover the corkscrew and set of wine markers she’d found at the grocery store.

  “I didn’t have much time to shop,” she said.

  “They’re great, thanks.”

  “When did you have time to make this?” she asked, still touching the wooden chest.

  “We worked on it when we made the gifts for my folks. Meredith, you did a good job of keeping our secret.”

  “I never told,” she said with a broad smile.

  An ache welled in Starla’s throat and jaw and she suppressed the sudden urge to cry. He must have spent a few hours during the night a time or two, as well, in order to create the intricate design and sand the wood to such perfect smoothness. Projects like this weren’t done as quickly as he let on.

  In a way she wished he’d never made it, never given it to her, because it would forever be a permanent reminder of what she’d had to leave behind. And she would keep it forever, she knew.

  On the other hand, she was grateful for a tangible reminder of their time together, no matter how painful. She would treasure the handmade gift and be comforted by thoughts of Charlie and Meredith making it just for her.

  Starla received another hug from Meredith. Over the girl’s shoulder, she looked at Charlie. He got up and picked up wrapping paper and bows.

  “I made muffins,” Starla said, standing then, and moving toward the kitchen. “And sliced fruit.”

  If things were different, if they didn’t have to hold themselves in check around Meredith, she would have moved into his arms and thanked him properly. Instead, their exchange seemed incomplete, as if resolution was dangling out of reach.

  Starla forced herself to put aside the thought and make preparations for the day.

  Charlie’s brothers were nothing at all like Charlie in looks, of course, being slender with reddish brown hair and receding hairlines. But along with their wives and children they were a friendly, jovial bunch, and Starla recognized similarities in their senses of humor and interaction with one another that linked them as a family.

  Jacob, the oldest brother, was a computer programmer in Des Moines. His wife, Donna, was short and plumpish, with an infectious giggle, and they had two boys, Randy fourteen and Craig,
twelve.

  Sean and his wife Robyn had three boys. The oldest, Lance, from Robyn’s first marriage was thirteen, Andrew was ten and Nathan eight.

  Meredith, as the only girl, was naturally the darling of the family. Her cousins doted on her, and her aunts and uncles showered her with attention. Nathan was the only one who seemed the slightest bit jealous, occasionally taking a toy from her or one-upping her with accounts of his accomplishments in school and listing the toys he’d received for Christmas.

  Of course the children begged to open gifts first, so there was a flurry of ripping and crackling paper and a chorus of oohs and aahs as presents were revealed. Charlie’s parents treasured their wood gifts. Each of the children received something from their grandparents. Marian had wrapped a gift for Starla, as well, and though Starla knew the sachet and soaps were one of those gifts kept on hand for the last minute, she adored Marian for including her.

  Marian opened a digital camera that Sean and Robyn had given her, and Sean showed her how to use it. “You can send us pictures in e-mail now,” he said.

  Immediately Marian had the children pose, and the adults were chased down next. She took a snap of Starla and Meredith looking at Meredith’s new interactive alphabet game.

  “Give me your e-mail address, and I’ll send you these pictures,” she said cheerfully and ran for a paper and pen.

  Starla jotted down her e-mail address, and Marian continued with her picture taking until she claimed it was time to get dinner underway.

  Charlie’s sisters-in-law were gracious, including Starla in their tasks and conversation and showing genuine interest in her business venture in Maine. The women moved to the kitchen while the guys picked up the mess.

  “You must have to fight the guys off with a stick,” Donna said to Starla, “what with your looks and cooking skills.”

  Starla stirred the gravy she’d been assigned to tend. “I haven’t had that problem so far.”

  “Well, I admire you for going after the career you wanted,” she said sincerely. “You’re still young and have plenty of time to marry when you’re ready.”

  “Assuming she wants to marry,” Robyn said. “She could be enjoying her independence too much to sacrifice it.”

  “It just hasn’t been an issue,” Starla said, stating the plain truth. “There hasn’t been anyone I would have considered marrying. But I’m definitely not closed to the idea.”

  “You must be mighty selective,” Donna said, “which is a good thing, because I’m certain that men will be lining up outside your restaurant just to get in and have a peek at you.”

  Starla felt her cheeks warm.

  “You’re embarrassing her,” Marian said from the sink.

  Donna finished brushing butter on a pan of rolls and slid them into the built-in oven. She moved over to where Starla stood at the cooktop. “Did I embarrass you? Jacob claims my mouth engages before my brain. I’m sorry.”

  Starla shrugged. “That’s okay.”

  “I didn’t mean any insult. I’d give anything to look half as good as you.”

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” Starla replied.

  “Tell her to clam up while she’s ahead,” Robyn said.

  They all laughed then and at the sound of Craig shouting for help, Robyn shot toward the door. “I’ll bet one of mine has him in a headlock.”

  Starla’s roast was a smashing success, along with the sweet potato soufflé she whipped together at the last minute. Both were complementary to Marian’s turkey and stuffing, Donna’s gelatin salad, and Robyn’s green bean casserole.

  Marian produced pumpkin and pecan pies along with a chocolate cream for the kids.

  After dinner, Charlie helped his mom with the dishes, washing while she put away leftovers. Starla tried to help, but Charlie shooed her off. She was soon embroiled in an enthusiastic game of Monopoly with all five boys.

  Meredith napped with her head in her aunt Robyn’s lap. Starla watched as the young woman repeatedly threaded her fingers through Meredith’s dark hair. Robyn glanced up. “I always wanted one of these,” she said with a smile.

  Charlie walked out of the kitchen just then. “You can borrow mine anytime you like.”

  He stood behind Craig and placed his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Who’s winning? Andrew, is that you with all the houses on Boardwalk and Park Place?”

  Andrew nodded.

  “If I land there once more, I’m done for,” Starla told him.

  On the next roll of the die, she did just that and gave all her money and property to Andrew before bowing out of the game.

  Charlie found an open spot on one of the sofas and gestured for Starla to sit beside him. She wished she could lean into him, snuggle into his embrace or reach for his hand. Not touching him made her feel strangely empty.

  Sean was talking about a situation at his job at an insurance company. Before long, the conversation shifted and he started telling tales about his brothers while they were growing up.

  “Tell the one about when you hit Jacob’s head through the tent with the baseball bat,” Lance said. The boys had ended their game and came in to join the adults.

  Without prompting, Sean got up as though he were about to give a performance. Starla knew why once she saw the moves that went along with his storytelling.

  “I was walking along swinging my bat and saw the lump sticking out the back of the tent,” Sean said, pretending he had a bat in his hand and swinging at the air. “I just gave it a whack.” To emphasize that word, he made a hitting motion with the invisible bat. “Mom screamed.”

  The others chuckled.

  “I shot inside the tent and there was Jacob, knocked out cold. Mom didn’t know what was wrong with him, but I did.”

  The boys all laughed and Jacob said, “Yeah, real funny.”

  Starla couldn’t resist joining the laughter. Listening to their stories and jokes, she envied them their sense of family and their shared memories. They were close-knit, but not exclusive, because she was treated as a part of them. They held to tradition, but weren’t too rigid to accept a guest and make her welcome.

  Afternoon stretched into evening and the feelings of acceptance and companionship only grew stronger. By the time night fell and Charlie’s brothers and their families gathered gifts and coats and prepared to leave, Starla felt a loss at seeing them go.

  After much kissing and hugging, they settled into their vehicles and Starla stood in the cold on the porch with Charlie and his parents, waving as everyone drove away. Charlie held Meredith in his arms and carried her back into the house. “We’d better get our things together, too.”

  Starla picked up a coffee mug and tray and carried them to the kitchen. Marian was wiping her eyes with her apron when Starla set the tray on the counter.

  “Sorry,” Charlie’s mom said, flattening her apron over her waist. “I get a little weepy when everyone leaves. Having all the kids here reminds me of when mine were all at home. I miss my Kendra all the time, but terribly on days like this.”

  Starla didn’t know what to say to comfort her. “She must have been very special.”

  Marian nodded. “She was our little darling, just like Meredith is now, doted upon, what with three brothers. But she never acted spoiled or took advantage of her position.”

  “Do you mind me asking how she died?”

  “I’m glad to talk about her. People outside the family act like they don’t want to bring up the subject around me for fear I’ll go to pieces or something. And Charlie won’t talk about her.”

  Starla nodded.

  “She was killed in an auto accident on her way back from town. She’d just gone for groceries. Meredith was with me that day, thank God. A truck crossed the center line and hit her head-on. She was killed instantly.”

  “That must be a small comfort.”

  Marian wiped her eyes again. “Thank you for asking about her.”

  It felt natural to take her hand. “You have a wonderful
family.”

  Marian nodded. “Yes. I do.” She smiled through her tears, then collected herself. “So, you’ll be leaving tomorrow, dear?”

  Starla’s heart dipped at the reminder. “Yes. The tow truck is coming sometime in the morning. We should be on the road by noon at least.”

  “Well, it was a pleasure to have you here with us for Christmas,” Marian told her and squeezed Starla’s hand. “I’m so glad we got to meet you.”

  Starla gave her an impulsive hug. “I’m glad, too.”

  “Now, you know,” Marian said, straightening and leading her back to the living room, “if you’re ever through this way again, you have to stop by and see us.”

  Starla couldn’t imagine a reason for her to be this way again, but she appreciated the woman’s sincerity.

  “I’ll e-mail you those pictures.”

  “Thanks.”

  Charlie was waiting for her. Meredith hugged her grandparents, and the couple waved from the porch as Charlie drove them away.

  Sitting in the passenger seat of the Cherokee, a feeling of loss and sadness swept over Starla so strongly that she fought back tears of her own and wondered if Marian was crying again.

  Meredith kept up a constant chatter from the back seat, and Charlie replied occasionally. Starla thought of the gifts she received that day and knew she would treasure them as part of the memory of her stay with Charlie.

  The log home welcomed them with the twinkling multicolored lights of the Christmas tree blinking in the great-room window. Charlie hit the garage door opener and pulled inside. Starla felt as though she was coming home.

  But she was merely a visitor. And she’d be gone tomorrow.

  “Can I take a bath in your tub with my new bubbles?” Meredith asked.

  Starla could almost smell watermelon, and the remembered scent triggered a memory that made her heart skip a beat.

  “Sure, then it’s bedtime,” her father said.

  Starla put away the dishes she’d taken and watched the news while Charlie gave Meredith a bath. Cheeks pink and skin smelling like bubble gum, Meredith padded out in her new Power Puff Girl pajamas to give Starla a good-night hug.