by Kristy Tate
“You’ve forgiven your dad and Cindy, though, right?”
“Supposedly, I did. That’s just one of the reasons my brother now hates me.”
“I’m sorry.” She put her hand over his. Her touch warmed him. “Oh, look!” She pointed at the water, and her eyes lit up.
His gaze followed her finger and he saw a whale crest out of the water.
“They’re early this year,” Charlie said with a happy sigh. “Do you want to go closer to the tide? There’s a great lookout from one of the galleries. Sera L’arte has a balcony that hangs over the ocean.”
“Sure. But we should definitely get rid of the food before we go into a gallery.”
“Let’s not just toss it. I mean, I didn’t even touch mine. We should give it to a homeless person.”
“Why didn’t you eat?”
She shrugged, then winked at him. “I guess I was more interested in you than food.”
He snorted, wondering what to make of her. She’d told him her heart was off limits, but every other word from her lips made him want to kiss her until she cried out for breath. “Who do you want to give it to?”
“I don’t know.” Charlie glanced at all the people on the beach: mothers and children, teens with boogie boards, girls in bikinis and men in beards. “It’s hard. Someone once gave my friend money because they thought she was homeless, when really she was just experimenting with dreadlocks. Another time I gave a guy a granola bar and he yelled at me because he wanted money.”
Zach smiled. “I know. Once I gave a homeless guy a bag of peanuts, and he threw them back at me because he said he didn’t have any teeth.” Zach pointed to a violinist on the corner. “Maybe him?” The weather-beaten man’s haunting melody filled the air. At his feet lay an open instrument case with a smattering of coins in the bottom.
“He’s good,” Charlie said.
“His talent should get him more than surf and turf.”
“Here.” Charlie pulled out her wallet and added a ten-dollar bill to the doggie bag.
Zach took out a twenty to up Charlie’s offering.
The tune didn’t falter as Zach placed the food beside the case, wishing he could give Charlie his heart.
#
“Charlie?”
Jeremy Zimmerman. Charlie recognized his voice immediately. It carried her back to college. Suddenly, she was twenty-one and in love for the first time with someone who loved her back. Charlie pasted on a tight smile and slowly turned.
He looked good. Ryan Gosling good. And the tall, beautiful redhead beside him looked even better. But the star of the night was the tiny baby in the stroller, waving her fist at Charlie.
“Wow. It’s so good to see you.” Jeremy pulled her into a hug. She inhaled his familiar scent and her heart tore a little bit more.
“Huh, you too.” She stepped away from him and moved closer to Zach, who stood just behind her.
Jeremy reached for his wife’s hand. “You remember Colleen.”
“Of course.” Charlie flicked her gaze over the beautiful redhead, but settled her attention on the baby in the stroller. “But I haven’t met your baby. She’s beautiful.” Charlie blinked back a sudden tear and hoped no one noticed.
“What are you doing now?” Colleen asked.
Charlie straightened and forced herself to look Colleen in the eye. A wave of painful memories rushed over Charlie as she remembered the long-ago night when she’d first seen Colleen wrapped in Jeremy’s arms. “I’m a nurse.”
“What happened to UCI and the journalism program?” Jeremy asked.
Before she could answer, Zach stuck out his hand. “I’m Zach Walden.”
Jeremy looked small compared to Zack. Pin neck. That was how Grandma Dotty described Jeremy.
“Zach Walden?” Jeremy’s eyes lit up. “The football player?”
Zach stretched his lips into what could be described as either a smile or a teeth-baring. Then he wrapped his arm around Charlie’s shoulders and pulled her close to his side.
Colleen looked Charlie up and down. “Are you two…together?”
An uncomfortable lull fell over the conversation. The sounds of traffic and violin music continuing at the corner filled Charlie with bittersweet memories.
Zach dropped a kiss on top of Charlie’s head. “We are now.”
“No way,” Colleen breathed out. “You can’t be the mysterious woman with Zach’s love child!”
So, they’d seen the news clips. “That baby is my nephew,” Charlie told them.
“Ah,” Colleen said, looking relieved.
“If you must know,” Charlie said, “I took Zach to the cabin so he could enjoy some privacy.”
Zach took Charlie’s hand and squeezed it. “You don’t need to tell them anything.” He added in a harder tone, “Where we go and what we do is none of their business.”
Colleen stiffened. “It was nice to see you again, Charlotte.” She steered the stroller in the opposite direction.
“You, too,” Charlie lied to Colleen’s back and the retreating stroller.
When Jeremy looked over his shoulder for a last questioning glance, Zach cupped Charlie’s face in his hands and kissed her soundly on the mouth.
She laughed and pushed him away. “No more kissing!”
He didn’t look at all contrite. “Seriously? Kissing is the best part.”
So true. He stood too close, and now that Jeremy had disappeared, she took a step back. “I mean it.”
He smirked what may have been an agreement, and they walked to the beach, navigating around the tourists and kids toting boogie boards. She slipped off her shoes and sank her toes into the warm sand.
She felt Zach’s gaze on the back of her neck. “I thought we were going to a lookout near the galleries to watch the whales,” he said.
She shook her head. A part of her wanted to hold onto the Jeremy pain and the bittersweet memories. Another part of her wanted Zach to make her laugh. And maybe kiss her. Just another little kiss would taste so good. “I don’t want to risk bumping into Jeremy and his family again.”
“You want to tell me about him? I thought you’d pledged your heart to Dr. Palmer as a child.”
She hated the snarky way he said Kirk’s name. “There were other guys.” Although paltry few, but she didn’t need to tell Zach that. “Including Jeremy. He helped me see my mistakes.”
“What about journalism?”
“It’s a dying profession.” She sucked in a deep breath. “There’ll always be a need for nurses.”
“True, and you’re a good one.”
His offhanded compliment warmed her.
“But you would probably have been a great journalist, too.”
She cut him a sideways glance. “Why do you say that?”
“Not only are you curious and gifted with language, but you have an ability to read people. That’s probably what makes you such a wonderful nurse, but it would serve you as a journalist just as well. What made you change your major?”
“Like I said, the industry had changed. Millions of bloggers who work for free have rendered magazines and newspapers nearly obsolete.”
“Bloggers can make money.”
“But it takes money to make money. It’s a lot easier to go to work every day and bring home a paycheck.”
“Is it really?”
“It’s super easy for you to be judgmental,” Charlie said.
Zach shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed out over the ocean. “I wasn’t always a billionaire, you know. I worked really hard to get the athletic scholarships so I could go to school.”
And, unlike the stereotypical jock, he’d obviously taken school seriously.
“It’s a shame you can’t remember creating the app.”
“Maybe, but maybe not. You never know. Maybe now I can approach the business from a fresh point of view.”
“You’re amazing,” she said. “This horrible thing happened to you and you’re standing here telling me it might be
a good thing.”
“Well, I don’t know, do I?” He made a face. “Sadly, there’s a buttload of things I don’t know.”
“Any memories resurfacing?”
“I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
In the distance, boats and surfers bobbed in the water, and the early evening sun spread rays of pink and orange toward them.
Charlie watched the tide lick the shore. It washed in, receded, and repeated, gaining ground on each return, sucking sand with it as it pulled away. That was how Charlie felt—like she was being pulled in and under. She knew she should stay away from Zach, but she felt herself being tugged into him.
She looked at Zach’s blue-gray eyes, his chiseled chin and warm brown hair.
Like a degree in journalism, he was exactly everything she didn’t need. But wanted.
#
Zach rolled over and stared at Charlie. Her honey-colored hair fanned out over the pillow and her pale skin looked translucent in the early morning light. He reached out to pull her close. She leaned in and licked his nose.
And then his lips.
She smelled of dog food.
Zach bolted up and ran a hand over his dog-drool-covered face. “Jordy! Augh!”
The dog stood on the bed, his tongue waggling. Zach pushed Jordy and the dog fell and skittered across the hardwood floor. Seconds later, he bounded back onto the bed, eager to play.
“I’m not wrestling with you!” Zach pushed his fingers through his hair and gazed out at the sun glinting off the ocean on the other side of the window. He pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them, thinking.
If Eva was his fiancée, where was she? Why was she never around?
Because she is in love with Clive, a voice answered. Wait. Where had that come from? He didn’t know, but he was sure it was right. He scrambled off the bed as a memory hit him. Eva and Clive sitting at a table, too close, talking too low for others to hear, exchanging glances that told of shared, intimate jokes.
Zach paced across the room. Jordy joined him. He’d created the Wonder Weight Loss app and signed a contract with Ricardo Sanchez. He and Ricardo, despite their obvious personality differences, had become not only great business partners, but also good friends. Zach had been the one who took care of Ricardo after he’d overdosed on Vicodin. He was one of only three people who knew that had happened.
He’d been just as upset as Ethan when their mom had remarried, but he’d since learned to appreciate his stepfather, even though he still resented the fact that his mom had moved halfway across the world. But she was a grown woman and needed to live her own life.
Zach sank onto one of the leather armchairs that flanked his cold fireplace. Random thoughts fired through his mind. He had to break up with Eva and tell Clive that he knew about the two of them. It had been on his to-do list the day he’d gone for the hike.
He wanted to visit his mom. He needed to hug her and tell her that he loved her. He ached to see her again.
And Ricardo—he could update the app, but then maybe he wanted to step away from the Wonder Weight Loss clinics.
And do what?
He didn’t know, but he hoped Charlie would be somehow involved.
Had his memory returned? He wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Bouncing from his chair, he strode across the room to pick up his phone. He scrolled through the calendar app, taking note of all his appointments.
Last Friday, he’d gone to have his teeth cleaned by his dentist, Dr. Flanders, a tall Viking-looking man with fingers like hot dogs. A receptionist named Patty talked with a lisp because of her tongue ring. On Thursday, he’d given a talk on nutrition and health at a local high school for at-risk teens. They’d wanted to pay him, so he’d used their fee—and then some—to make a donation to the school. There’d been a board meeting on Tuesday and a Nordic-looking accountant named Lars hadn’t shown up because his very pregnant wife called Patsy had gone into labor.
Zach savored all of these memories and it hit him that he’d missed himself. The lonely ache that had plagued him had just been him mourning the loss of himself. Now, he wanted to dance, sing, and rejoice at the return of his memories.
He wanted to share the news with someone, but he didn’t know who. After a moment of hesitation, he pressed Eva’s number.
CHAPTER 10
Charlie drove into her parents’ neighborhood on autopilot. Her parents had lived in the same house in Mission Viejo her entire life. The Palmers had moved in when she was only a baby. She vividly remembered the moment she’d decided she was in love with Kirk. If she closed her eyes, she could still see him climbing out of his parents’ old red minivan. His hair had been lighter, his chest thinner, but his beauty had still taken her breath away. Just as it did now.
She pulled into her parents’ driveway and killed the engine. The house looked abandoned and she remembered that her parents were still in Arizona with Uncle Mel. That was okay. She didn’t need her parents asking about the cheesecake.
Charlie climbed from the car and carefully lifted the cheesecake out of the trunk. She had put it in a laundry basket to keep it from sliding around and surrounded the basket with beach towels for extra protection.
She glanced at the Palmers’ white stucco house with its slate blue window shutters, and red carnations in the garden beds. It looked almost as patriotic as Mr. Palmer’s Facebook page. Was Kirk home? She knew he wasn’t—or at least shouldn’t be—working. She’d checked the schedule before leaving the hospital. She didn’t see his car in the driveway, but the garage was open as well as the hood of a vintage Mustang.
Her steps faltered on the used-brick path that led to the Palmers’ front door. What if she had gotten her degree in journalism? Would she be here now?
Whistler, the Palmers’ Cocker Spaniel, barked a welcome before she could knock on the door.
“What have you got there?” Mr. Palmer called out from the garage.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Palmer,” Charlie said when he emerged from beneath the Mustang.
“Is that for me?” he asked as he wiped his hands on his grease-splattered overalls.
Charlie glanced down at the cheesecake. “It’s for all of you,” she lied. “But I especially wanted to thank Kirk for being so great with Ian.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Good. They taped up his finger and it’s awkward for him. He keeps forgetting he can’t use it. But he’s young and it should heal soon.”
“Well, neither Janet nor Kirk is here. They went shopping.” Mr. Palmer shook his head. “I don’t know why a thirty-three-year-old man needs his mom to go shopping with him…”
“I guess that would depend on what they’re shopping for,” Charlie said.
“Or whose credit card they’re using to make the purchases,” he grumbled. “Look, I’m a mess. You can find your way to the kitchen. If there’s not room in the fridge, just leave it on the counter. I promise you, I won’t let it go bad!”
“Thanks, Mr. Palmer,” Charlie said and she let herself into the house.
Ghosts of her younger self, her brothers, and a young Kirk haunted her as she made her way to the kitchen. Very little had been done to update the house since she was last here and it wouldn’t have surprised her to have heard a tune by Barry Manilow, one of Mrs. Palmer’s favorites, bursting out of the stereo sound system still mounted on the family room wall. But the house was still and quiet as Charlie padded into the kitchen.
She tried to dismiss the question of why Kirk, a neurosurgeon, was still living with his parents. As she placed the cheesecake in the fridge beside a plastic-covered lasagna, she automatically came up with excuses for him: he had to have a ton of student debt, housing in South Orange County was hard to find, and as long as he lived with his mom, he didn’t have to make his own dinner or clean up after himself.
Did his mom do his laundry?
Charlie banished all these unwanted thoughts from her mind and escaped from the house—something that Kirk should have do
ne years ago.
She climbed into the car she’d paid for herself while still in school. Her dad had helped with the down payment on her condo years ago, but she’d been able to pay him back after working for only a year. Since then, her condo had appreciated by almost twenty percent. She’d been lucky. The housing market had been kind to her.
Kirk hadn’t been as lucky.
Or as smart, a snarky voice in her head whispered.
#
Kirk let out a wolf whistle when Charlie pulled the door open. “You look hot!” he said. “I’m not talking about the weather!”
“Thanks.” Charlie smiled and tried not to let her irritation show. Although she’d worked really hard to lose weight and she loved her new body, it still rankled when people commented on her appearance. Didn’t they realize that heavy or slim, she was still the same person? She still had the same thoughts and opinions. She still laughed at the same jokes and cried at the same pain. Her body, like her clothes, could be changed and altered, but not her soul.
He had meant his words to be a compliment, so she took his arm, and leaned slightly into him so she could more easily walk in the sparkly high heels from her grandmother’s dress shop.
“I’m serious,” Kirk said as they made their way to his car. “Did you have to get a whole new wardrobe after you lost the weight?”
“As you know, my work clothes aren’t form fitting.”
Kirk paused in front of his BMW, pressed the fob, and opened the passenger door for her. “And that’s a shame. I wonder if I can talk to Mike Rex about that.” He winked at her when he mentioned the president of the hospital.
Charlie settled into the car and tucked her skirt around her, making sure it wouldn’t get caught in the door. She’d promised Maddie she’d return the dress to the shop as soon as she got it dry cleaned. But she was keeping the shoes.
