by Sarah Cole
After a long bath, and a fair amount of shaving, scrubbing, conditioning and plucking, I’m finally looking somewhat less homeless. I put on my pajamas even though its barely dinner time and follow the scent of cinnamon and baking spices down the stairs, hearing the familiar sounds of Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Christmas music floating through the air.
I can hear my parents talking in hushed tones, but as soon as I make my way into the kitchen they stop, both looking at me.
“Hey Charlie girl!” Dad says giving me a bear hug.
“Hi Daddy. What are you guys talking about?” I ask. Yeah its nosy, but I know they were talking about me. Call it intuition and the fact that my Mom is a terrible liar and looks really guilty right now.
“Can’t tell you. It’s a Christmas present of sorts.” He says giving me a wink as he loosens his tie.
“Sure…” I say eyeing them skeptically.
“Come on honey,” Mom says changing the subject like a pro, “these presents won’t wrap themselves and if I don’t get started on this now, I’ll end up handing everyone shopping bags on Christmas morning.” Mom teases, but the threat is there. Yeah Mom, we all remember Christmas 2010.
I follow her into the dining room where she has rolls of silver and gold paper lined out and everything set up in perfect order. My Mom is serious about her gift wrapping – no stick on bows for that woman, and everything always has a theme. I’m not really ashamed to say that quirk has rubbed off on me because it always looks so good whereas my sister just shoves everything into a bag with reused tissue paper.
I’m into the full wrapping and holiday groove – pretty sure my Mom has been spiking my cider, when the doorbell rings.
“Charlie, can you go see who that is? It should be the pizza; my debit card is on the counter.” She says knotting some glittery ribbon.
“Yeah, no problem.” I say
“Coming!” I shout, not wanting the delivery person to think we didn’t hear them.
As I open the door, I trip over the hem of my pajama pants and the entry rug and begin to topple forward, but before I can face plant onto the front porch, I’m caught in a familiar strong pair of arms. His scent washes over me and I look up to meet his concerned gaze.
“Hi baby.” Andrew says, brushing the hair away from my face.
Chapter 22
Andrew:
Over the past week or so when I haven’t been buried in work, I have been talking with Charlie’s father, Richard, and at first as any loving father would, he ripped me a new asshole and hung up on me. What I was not expecting was a call back and an apology for that behavior later in the day. Then we started having a real conversation where I was able to explain myself and ask about Charlie. I promised myself to give her the space she needed, but it was killing me to stay away, so I checked in on her every day. That gave me some small peace just knowing she was safe and with her family.
I was shocked as hell when Richard called me earlier and told me that I needed to come get my girl. He explained that she was as miserable as I was and that his wife, Beverly was worried sick because Charlie wasn’t eating or sleeping. I didn’t have to think about it twice before I hopped in my car to make the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Charlie’s parents’ house.
It’s a little after six when I finally pull up to the house. Its set back off the road a ways surrounded by land and empty fields. As I make my way up the long drive I see the house is a large, ultra-modern farmhouse style, white with a metal roof, and it looks cozy and inviting. Garland with twinkling white lights is swaged all the way around the wrap around porch accented with large burlap bows.
I’m more nervous than I have ever been in all my life as I make my way up the slate stone steps and ring the doorbell.
“Coming!” I hear her familiar voice shout from inside, and a warmth fills my body that I haven’t felt in weeks.
The door swings open as a mess of espresso colored waves and flannel pajamas tumble out, and I reach out and catch her, catching a whiff of her honeysuckle lotion and shampoo. She looks up, her beautiful green eyes widening as she inhales a sharp breath.
“Hi baby.” I say brushing the mess of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“You’re not the pizza.” She says righting herself and pulling away, my body screaming at the loss of physical contact.
“Nope.” I smile at her.
“What are you doing here Andrew?” she asks in an exasperated tone.
“I told you I wasn’t giving up Charlie. We need to talk. If after I have said everything I need to say, you truly do not want to be with me, I will have to find a way to accept that even if it kills me. But until you can tell me with certainty that you don’t feel for me the way I do for you, I’m never going to stop trying.”
She sighs a heavy sigh and steps back into the foyer, and just as I think she’s going to slam the door in my face, she says “Well get in here, it’s too cold out there to talk you dummy.” And I see the faint ghost of a smile on her lips.
I cross the threshold into an inviting foyer that’s decked out for the holidays, the sounds and smells of Christmas are all around. I follow Charlie through the foyer into the great room and kitchen area where we find a petite brunette in the kitchen transferring some cookies to a cooling rack and a taller man with graying hair and black framed glasses smiling at her in adoration.
“Well I guess it wasn’t the pizza.” Her mother glances up, meeting my eyes with a kind smile on her face. Charlie looks so much like her mother, its uncanny.
“No, but I’m gathering that you already knew that.” Charlie accuses, crossing her arms.
“Andrew, these are my parents Beverly, the terrible liar, and Richard, the meddler.” She gestures to each respectively and I stifle my laughter.
“Hey now,” Richard remarks, “I’m not sure what you think we did here.” He finishes, shooting a wink my way.
“Oh please. I knew you two were up to something earlier, but I just didn’t know what. This has your stamp all over it, Father.” She huffs.
I step forward holding out my hand to her father, “Hello Mr. Adams, great to meet you in person.” He grips it giving it a good shake and pulls me in for a hug, surprising the hell out of me.
“Good to meet you too kid, please, call me Rich.” He says, then so only I can hear. “This takes some balls, son. Don’t give up.” I just nod in response before turning my attention to Charlie’s mother.
“Mrs. Adams, I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” I smile and she opens up her arms to give me a hug.
“Hello Andrew! You can just call me Bev.” She winks, and it’s insane how much she reminds me of my own mother, but also of Charlie. “It’s so nice to meet you, honey. I’ve heard some pretty wonderful things about you, too.”
I shake my head at that. “Well yeah, maybe until recently. I would love to continue our conversation, but would you mind letting me steal Charlie for a bit so we can talk?”
“Please take her, she’s driving us nuts!” Her Dad jokes, and I smile because Charlie just rolls her eyes.
“Well since I’m in my pajamas, we can just go into the music room and shut the door. Its sound proofed.” She says giving her parents the evil eye as she slides her hand in mine to lead the way. I hold it tight, not wanting to ever let go, as I marvel at how perfectly it fits in mine.
Charlie:
I shut the door to the music room, and reluctant to let go of his hand just yet, I pull him over to the couch.
“Wow.” Andrew says looking around at all of the instruments and recording equipment. I suppose it is pretty impressive. My Mom records a lot for her lectures and also tutors and teaches students from home. All that combined with my love of playing, the room has just kind of evolved over the years.
“Yeah, it’s my favorite room.” I say straightening a stack of vinyl albums that were tossed on the coffee table in front of me.
“I can see why; it screams Charlie to me. Did you decorate
it?”
“I did. How’d you know?”
“Well it’s kind of obvious it doesn’t follow the theme of the rest of the house, and besides that, pretty much everything in here is black, and the framed photography on the wall…” he trails off, nodding towards the black and whites lining the walls.
“They don’t exactly seem like the types of bands your Mom and Dad would listen to.” He chuckles.
“Well you’d be surprised. Bev and Richard are pretty hip in the music scene.” I laugh.
“Yeah those are all shots from some of my favorite concerts, but my Mom or Dad did take me to most of them.” I smile at the memory.
“Listen, Charlie.” He exhales and turns to look at me with a pained expression. “You know I didn’t really come here to chit chat with you.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. “I know we need to talk, and I know I need to listen. Before you say what you need to say, I need you to know that I am sorry. I am truly sorry for shutting you out and turning you away. I was… no I am hurt, and confused, but I know deep down you didn’t do anything to hurt me intentionally.” I confess. It feels good to admit that not only to myself, but to him. He starts to talk again, but I continue, stopping him.
“Another thing I realized is, I wasn’t so much mad at you, but more at life and the shitty hand I kept getting dealt. I never truly grieved the loss of Abby, and I was holding onto so much hatred of the situation, that I couldn’t see anything else, including logic. I never told you, but for the past several months, I had been getting letters from the man that was the drunk driver the night of our accident. I opened the first request for a face to face visit, but the letters kept coming and I never opened them.” I say, taking a deep breath and tried to distract myself by fluffing the couch pillow.
“Anyways, I was drowning in grief and bitterness, so I finally opened those letters. And you know what I found?” I look at him and he is intently staring at me, slightly shaking his head.
“I found a man, who had lost everything that meant anything to him in his life. He wanted the pain to stop, and he made a terrible mistake. One that he never even consciously made, and he ruined lives. His own and a few others, but I realized he wasn’t a bad person. He was in pain, and wasn’t looking for anything other than to help ease mine. So I went to meet him, and shockingly enough, I actually liked the guy. He reminded me a lot of my own father, and I realized I completely misjudged him based on one single mistake he made in his life. It made me realize that people who make makes aren’t beyond redemption; they are human.” I finish
“Wow. Charlie, I had no idea you’ve been dealing with all of that alone. I’m so incredibly proud of you, baby. That took some nerve, and I wish I could have been there for you.” He says, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear from under my eye.
“I had to do it on my own, Andrew. It also made me realize that I was quick to judge you Andrew. I was quick to judge the one person in my life who never judged or doubted me… not once. I’m so sorry. I know you aren’t a bad person. Maybe you made mistakes, and I know they still torment you, but I just want to know everything so we can help each other.” I say, grabbing for his hands again.
“Thank you, babe. You’re right, though, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, Charlie… ever. I was an ass, and I’ll be the first to admit that I was too chicken shit to just say it out loud. It isn’t something I’ve really talked about to anyone other than my family, and I didn’t want to see you look at me like you did that day so I was trying to avoid it at all costs, but it blew up in my face.”
“Well, Tyler is a real prick… so…”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have had leverage had I just told you from the start.”
“True. Why don’t we just start from the beginning and you can help me understand.” I say, leaning in closer.
Chapter 23
Andrew:
I settle in knowing it will be a long story, and there will probably be a lot of questions along the way.
“My brother, Graham, was my best friend. Hell, he was more than that, he was my savior. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. He is the one that donated the kidney I needed for my transplant.” I say, and I can tell Charlie is shocked my admission. She better get ready, because I’m going to tell her everything.
“Anyways, Graham was just barely a year older than me, and we did everything together. We played sports, did the band thing, had the same friends, and even lived together our first years in college.” Her hand squeezes mine in reassurance and I squeeze back.
“Spring semester had just wrapped up, and we were home for the summer. Most of our friends had been spread around the country for colleges so we were having a summer kickoff party, so to speak. There was a private beach we always went to in high school that was way off the beaten path, so we would have bon fires and drink out there. You know the stupid shit kids do. Well we had it all set up, a shit ton of people including a ton of people we didn’t know. Graham and I had a designated driver and everything lined up.
“I had a beer when we got there, and waited a bit and had another. I wasn’t drinking much and didn’t even intend to because I was going to be job shadowing a family friend the next day. I never was a big drinker, and technically I was underage anyways so I didn’t want to be wasted just in case the cops did show up. So anyways… a couple hours pass by and I realize I haven’t seen my brother anywhere.”
“I went searching for him and found him further down the beach, unconscious, face down in the sand.” I know I’m going to start crying, because I can still picture it, smell it, hear everything about that night. It will be forever burned in my brain, and I can’t forget it.
“I knew immediately that there was something wrong because for one, my brother wasn’t a huge partier either and two it hadn’t been long enough for him to be passed out that cold.”
“What happened?” Charlie asks, when I don’t continue. Her eyes are shining with tears.
When I speak again, my voice cracks, betraying my weakness. “I screamed for help, and finally a few guys I recognized were able to help me get him up off the ground. He was still breathing, but barely. I knew I had to get him out of there and to a hospital or just somewhere, so I went in search of Connor, our designated driver. I wasn’t drunk. A little buzzed maybe, but I knew I shouldn’t risk it. When I finally found Connor, that son of a bitch was plastered, smoking a joint. I couldn’t find one person who hadn’t been fucking drinking. I mean I knew most of them were camping out on the beach, but still…”
“Why didn’t you just call someone or 911?” she asks.
“We were too far out. There wasn’t any service for at least a few miles. Virtually no man’s land. So I finally got Graham semi-conscious enough to open his eyes and help me out enough to get himself to the car. His eyes kept rolling back in his head and I couldn’t get him to form any sentences. I kept asking him what had happened and the only thing I could make out was something about drinks and drugged, but Graham never did drugs. Ever. He was on a football scholarship to play for the Tide. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. He wanted to go pro.” I cry, tears leaking out catching in my stubble. Charlie hands me a tissue she pulls from a box on the end table.
“So I got behind the wheel of that car, and I drove. I drove like hell. I made it about fifteen or so miles and had just got to the county highway when Graham started seizing in the backseat. I was scared shitless, Charlie. I didn’t know what to do. I had so many thoughts running through my head. Should I pull over, or do I hit the gas and go? I was too concerned with what was going on in the backseat that I didn’t see the car that stopped in front of me for some deer. I plowed straight into the back of them.”
“Oh God.” She gasps, hands covering her mouth.
“Luckily everyone in the car ahead of me was fine. Apparently I let off the gas enough I was only going about twenty-five to thirty miles per hour by the time I hit them.”
“I’m so
rry, but I guess I’m confused. The report said your brother passed away in the accident.” She says, the confusion evident in her eyes.
“He died at the scene but not due to the crash. When we crashed, I pulled him out of the car. He had stopped breathing. I tried to perform mouth to mouth. I did everything I could think of Charlie. I tried to make him throw up, I tried fucking everything. Once the paramedics and police officers arrived, he was pronounced dead on the scene.
“It was all my fault. The party was my idea; we wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for me. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I wasn’t even legal. If I hadn’t been, I would have been able to get to him sooner, get him out of there in time, noticed he was gone sooner, or made better judgement calls. I couldn’t save him the way he saved me so many times. He’s the reason I’m alive, but I couldn’t even extend the same fucking courtesy. God, the guilt has been eating away at me for ten fucking years. It should have been me. He didn’t deserve all that.”
“Don’t say that Andrew. You did everything you could. Honestly, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the exact same thing in your situation.” She says, rubbing my shoulder. Her hand and her nearness soothing me, giving me the courage to continue.
“Since I was underage and had alcohol in my system, they cited me with a DUI. Technically I wasn’t even over the legal limit. I honestly didn’t care what they cited me with, nothing was worse than the hell I was going through already.”
“I don’t want to ask, but what about the assault charges?” Charlie prompts.
I scoff, “When I saw Connor the next time, I just saw red. I was so angry at everything, not necessarily even him, but I was still pissed at what he did. His Dad was the mayor, so obviously he couldn’t have people walking around punching his son… so that was the first. The other two, I would commit again… in a heartbeat.” I look her in the eye to gauge her reaction, but sense no judgement.
