by A. J. Wynter
She did this for the rest of the week. She walked and cuddled with Timber, slept, ate convenience breakfast food, and lulled herself to sleep with a bottle of wine every day. She was embarrassed but didn't know what else to do with herself.
Then Friday morning came, but instead of Josh at the door, it was Charlotte's cleaning lady. She stepped into the house and Megan could've sworn that she heard the woman 'tsk'. She looked at Charlotte's house with fresh eyes, the dishes were unwashed, boxes of cereal were littered across the counter along with a collection of empty wine bottles.
When Josh arrived, he looked past Megan, "Ah, I see your staff have arrived."
Megan turned to look at the cleaning lady who was angrily tossing the bottles into a recycling bin and muttering under her breath and it dawned on her.
Josh thought this house was hers.
Chapter 10
Megan left Sandy, the disgruntled cleaning lady, clanging pots and bottles in the kitchen and set out for her first walk of the day with Timber. Surprisingly enough, walking the dog was the only time that Megan was able to feel at peace, that her mind wasn't grieving the loss of her relationship, the life that she had imagined for so many years. The crunch of the snow under her feet, the soft panting of the husky's breath, the quiet jangle of his name tag against the carabiner on his leash, all comforted her and helped to quiet her mind. She looked down at her new best friend as he faithfully plodded along beside her, and when they returned home, he would let her dry off his paws and then curl up in a ball beside her. The dog seemed to understand exactly what she needed: comfort and companionship. The walks felt good and he never seemed to tire. She clocked their route and figured out that they were averaging about ten miles a day.
But when she stepped inside the house, all her feelings would come crashing back to her, the weight of her heartbreak so heavy it was all she could do to take off Charlotte's boots and crawl under a blanket in front of the fire. She had been avoiding Charlotte's calls but had responded to a few of her text messages, just so that she knew that she was still alive.
When Megan and Timber rounded the last switchback on the road and turned onto Sugar Peaks Way, she was surprised that the tire tracks in the snow led down the road and up to the driveway. Charlotte.
Shit.
Megan wasn't ready to face her friend. She took a deep breath, “Come on Timber,” she whispered to her friend and headed for the door.
"Ah, there are my boots," Charlotte smiled as she spotted Megan at the doorway. "I was wondering where they went."
"I hope you don't mind. I don't really have any that are appropriate." Megan pulled Charlotte's puffy jacket off and instead of flinging it on the chair like she'd been doing all week, she dutifully hung it in the closet.
Charlotte rushed over and gripped her friend in a bear hug, "How have you been? Are you enjoying Chance Rapids?"
Timber stepped out from behind Megan and nudged Charlotte's hand.
"Whoa, who is this with that cold nose?" Charlotte jerked her hand back.
"This is Timber and we have a walking club,"
"Hi, Timber," Charlotte said and patted him on the head. "Who does he belong to? Please tell me you didn’t adopt a dog."
"His name is Josh, he drops him off her every day while he's at work."
"Josh who?" Charlotte turned and walked into the kitchen, Megan and Timber followed. Charlotte poured a glass of water from the tap and offered it to Megan, then poured her own. Megan took a sip and leaned against the island.
"I don't know his last name, he just drops Timber off in the morning and picks him up when he's done work."
"I didn't know that you liked dogs.” Charlotte filled the kettle and set it on the gas stove. "Tea? Or do you just want to start on your wine diet for the day?"
"I do like dogs, walking him has been the only thing that gets me out of bed some days."
"I was worried about that."
"Is that why you're here?" Megan glanced around the kitchen, hoping that Sandy had been able to get rid of all the wine bottles.
"You haven't been answering my calls, and I've been getting one-word text responses from you. Meg. You need to talk. Maybe sitting up here all isolated isn't the best thing for you."
"No," Megan interrupted, "It's exactly what I need."
Charlotte dropped two tea bags into a red teapot and poured in the boiling water. "Milk?" She sidestepped around Megan and opened the fridge, "What the hell Meg. Have you not gone shopping?"
"I um. I haven't gotten around to that yet."
"What have you been eating?"
"I've just been grazing, snacking, you know."
"No, no I don't. Meg. You're the best cook I know. Your dinner parties are legendary, and here you are, what, eating dry cereal and granola bars?"
Megan looked to the ground. "I haven't had much of an appetite."
"But Sandy tells me you've put a healthy dent in the inventory of my wine cellar."
"Dammit, Sandy," Megan muttered. "So. So, what. My husband just left me. I'm broke. I'm alone. I'm forty-fucking-three years old."
"So, this is your pity party?" Charlotte picked up the mugs of steaming tea. "Let's go sit down."
They made their way to the living room, Timber followed behind and sat at Megan's feet.
"I think that I'm allowed a pity party." Megan picked up her mug of tea and blew on the hot liquid, the warmth of the mug felt good in her hands.
"Meg. You have to grieve, but this isn't you. You're spiraling out of control."
"Easy for you to say." Megan regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips.
"What does that mean?" Charlotte narrowed her brown eyes at her.
"I mean, you're young, you're rich, you have the world at your fingertips."
Charlotte sighed and took a sip of her tea. "You know as well as I do that things look very different from the outside. I have all of this because I worked my ass off. Do you see any family photos on the walls here? Do you see me in a loving relationship? No. I made my decision a long time ago. I wanted to be one of the top realtors in the city, to be able to buy any piece of real estate that caught my eye. I wanted to be able to spoil my friends, but all that came with a sacrifice."
Megan set her mug down on a wooden coaster, "But you have something. All I wanted was a loving husband and a child. That's it."
Charlotte sighed. "That didn't come out right. Megan, you can have whatever you want. I truly believe that. I'm living proof of that, but you're not going to get it moping around my house talking to a dog all day."
Megan reached down and scratched Timber's head. "I get what you're saying Char. I'm just... I'm lost." The tears started to spill down Megan's face. Timber hopped up onto the couch and licked at her cheek, and she giggled. "There's nothing wrong with sitting around talking to dogs though."
"I have an idea." Charlotte jumped off the sofa and returned with a big leather folio. "I was worried about you, which is why I got in the car and drove up here today, but I also have to check on a little project I have going on."
"Project? Here in Chance Rapids?"
"Yep." Charlotte smiled, her perfect lipstick making her impossibly white teeth look even whiter. She pulled out a stack of architectural drawings and artist renderings. "You know how you can't get a good cup of coffee in this town?"
"I've heard." Megan hadn't set foot in the car since she arrived, so she was going to have to take Charlotte's word for it.
"You haven't even been downtown yet, have you?"
"Guilty." Megan held up her hands, "But I have gotten to know every single road in this subdivision."
"So, you haven't experienced the local scene at all then. Have you noticed that it's a ghost town out here? No locals can afford this real estate, they all live across the bridge."
"I was planning on heading in today." Megan pulled out one of the artist's renderings, "A coffee shop?"
"Bullshit," Charlotte smiled. "And yes, Chance Rapids is getting a European
style coffee shop and bakery."
"It looks beautiful," Megan gazed at the drawing. The space looked like a cozy mountain lodge in the Alps, but with a bright interior. She flipped through the pages and could see Charlotte's vision coming to life, bins of baguettes, the squeal of the milk being steamed for a freshly ground cappuccino, delicate glass cake stands with pyramids of cupcakes dusted with confectioner's sugar.
"It's going to be. If it ever gets done. It's brutal getting these people to adhere to any deadline."
Megan looked at her friend and saw what others might see, a ball-busting real estate maven used to getting what she wanted, but she also saw how dedicated Josh was to his work and felt a little defensive. "I think that there are some hard workers here."
"Meg. I grew up here. Trust me, I know exactly how this town runs."
"Shouldn't you have some pull then?"
Charlotte looked at her watch. "Maybe it is time for some wine." She stood and grabbed Megan's mug out of her hands. She marched into the kitchen and dumped the tea down the sink. She pulled out the corkscrew and poured wine into two of her fancy crystal wine glasses. Megan had been so afraid of breaking them since her snafu with Josh that she had been drinking out of mugs for the rest of the week. That, and it didn't feel so wrong drinking out of a mug before noon.
"I have to tell you something."
Megan sat up on the couch and accepted the glass of wine. Charlotte joined her and tucked her feet up under crossed legs. "Cheers," she smiled and clinked her glass against Charlotte's, the ting of the crystal echoed through the room.
"Cheers," Megan replied, waiting for Charlotte to continue, but Charlotte took another sip of her wine and seemed to be entranced by something over Megan's shoulder. Megan turned to look, but there wasn't anything behind her, except a few fine snowflakes falling softly on the patio.
"Char..." Megan prodded.
Charlotte snapped out of her daydream. “Right. Yes, you're going to help me,"
"With what? And what did you have to tell me?"
"I want you to manage this coffee shop project. I can't be here with my feet on the ground, and you, you're the best baker I know. You can keep the project on track and you can help me source out all the ingredients, hire the staff, everything. I need you."
Megan felt her stomach flip. She had seen the drawings come to life and could practically smell the creations she could make. She could see the warmth of the space and imagine handing cups of coffee to people as they brushed snow of their jackets, but at the same time, she also felt sick.
"I'm a part-time bookkeeper and housewife. I don't know the first thing about opening up a business."
"This is where you and I differ my friend. Fake it 'til you make it. And you don't even have to fake it - you helped run a business, and you're practically Martha Fucking Stewart."
"I-I-don't know." Megan's heart was racing. She had never felt this kind of mixture of fear and excitement at the same time.
"I have faith in you, Meg. You can do this. I will pay you. This will get you back on your feet. And no, this isn't charity. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to run this project for me. Don't make me beg."
Timber sat up and put his head on Megan's knee.
"Ok. I'll do it. "The words came out of her mouth before her brain had time to register what she had just signed on for.
Charlotte leaned forward and picked up her glass and raised it in the air.
"To new partnerships."
Megan raised her glass to meet her friend's.
"Let's get started."
"Wait, what else did you have to tell me? It seemed serious."
"I shouldn't have said anything," Charlotte sighed and set down the drawings. "I haven't really been lying to you Megan, but I kind of have."
Megan had known Charlotte for years ever since they bonded over their love/hate relationship with their hot yoga instructor. She felt like she knew her friend well, they had spilled all sorts of secrets to each other over wine-fuelled dinner parties. She couldn't imagine what kind of secret she could have been keeping from her.
"Don't look so worried, it's not that bad."
"You better spill Char. I've just made up about three different lies in my head and they're getting more grandiose the more you stall."
Charlotte took a big gulp of wine from her glass. "You have to promise to keep this secret."
"I promi—"
"Wait. Before you agree, you should know that if you promise to keep the secret, you're going to have to live this lie with me."
"Well, come on Char. I can't agree to something until I know what it is. Out with it." Megan slapped her friend on the knee.
Charlotte stared at Megan and then dropped her gaze to her lap.
"My name isn't Charlotte."
Chapter 11
"What do you mean, your name isn't Charlotte? You're Charlotte O’Hare, top forty under forty Realtor, everyone knows that."
"Let's go for a drive."
"Whoa, no you don't. You can't drop a bombshell on me like that and then propose a road trip."
Charlotte walked to the entryway closet and put on her coat, she pulled out the wet one Megan had worn and held it out for her, "Let's go. I will explain everything."
"Are you okay to drive?" Megan asked, downing the last of her glass of wine.
"It was just one glass. I'm fine." Charlotte replied.
"Can we bring Timber?"
"We better, I don't want to come home and find half of that sofa ripped to shreds." Charlotte handed Megan the leash and called out to Timber.
The three of them got into the warm car and wound their way through the mountain homes, across the bridge, and into town. Charlotte navigated through the snow-covered streets and pointed out various landmarks as they passed. "There's my old high school." She pointed a gloved finger at a 1950s style brick building where a few teenage locals stood outside smoking. "There's the grocery store," she pointed out the passenger window, her arm across Megan's chest."
"Got it." Megan laughed, feeling a little guilty that she hadn't even gotten basic household items yet.
They continued driving through the small downtown core, and Megan noticed the local utility company starting to string up the Christmas lights and install pretty garlands around the lamp posts. They drove out of town and across the railroad tracks. Where the downtown homes were quaint and well-maintained, this neighborhood seemed like another world. Most of the houses seemed mid-renovation, wrapped in paper with siding partially installed. The white picket fences of downtown were replaced with either busted up boards, or chain links. Many of the houses already had Christmas lights installed, but Megan realized that they just hadn't been taken down from the past year - or ever. Charlotte pulled the shiny car off to the side of the road across from a particularly derelict bungalow. There were two hound dogs tied up in the yard who started baying as they parked. The porch stairs were missing, a small step-ladder propped up in their place, and missing panes of windows were repaired with cardboard and duct tape. Megan wondered if an angry meth addict could come busting out the front door at any minute.
"Char? What are we doing here?" she asked over the yips and barks of the hound dogs. Timber growled protectively from the back seat.
"This is where I grew up. That window there..." She pointed at the one with the cardboard, "was the room I shared with my sister."
Never in a million years would Megan have guessed that the glamorous woman sitting beside her in a hundred-thousand-dollar car grew up in a hovel like the one she was staring at.
"They certainly have let it go," Megan whispered.
"Oh no. It looks pretty much the same as when we lived there, although it looks like they're actually paying their light bill."
Megan looked at her friend's face, expecting to see some kind of emotion, but Charlotte's eyes were dark. "Lauren and I would crawl under the front porch when we were kids and imagine that we were in a time machine. Or, not even a time machine, jus
t a machine that would take us anywhere. She always wanted to go back to the wild west, she loved horses, but I just wanted to go to a city. I never picked a specific one. Just a city, somewhere where I could be no one."
"That's really sad, Char." Megan reached out to grasp her friend's hand.
"My name is Billie-Jo."
Megan's instinct was to laugh, but the seriousness on her friend's face told her that it wasn't a joke.
"Billie-Jo Bunkman, Chance Rapids’ blow-job queen."
"Okay, you lost me. What are you talking about?"
Charlotte put the car in gear, made a three-point turn in front of the shack, and then headed back towards town. "That was the rumor about me."
Megan looked at her elegant friend, the one who dated the top bachelors in the city, the one who could get a dinner reservation with the drop of her name and couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Well, Char, that's the past."
"It isn't true Meg! I was a goddamn virgin," Charlotte yelled and slapped her gloved hand on the steering wheel. "I was the poorest kid in school, I had one sweatshirt, and half the time I didn't have anything to eat for lunch, the other half I had bologna and ketchup sandwiches. Needless to say, I was not popular, but for some reason, the popular girls in school decided to turn everyone against me. They started the rumors, and well, my initials didn't help..."
"That's terrible, girls can be so cruel," Megan couldn't believe what she was hearing, there were obviously a few more layers to peel from Charlotte like an onion. Charlotte didn't know why the girls had started their vendetta against her, but the woman was beautiful, and even the poor small-town version of Charlotte must have been a stunner.
"They were, I had no friends, I couldn't wait to get the hell out of here."
"Then, why did you buy a house here?"
"Can't you see?" she responded. "I wanted to show them. Come back and show them how Billie-Jo Bunkman had succeeded in life, how I was better than them."
"And did you? I mean, Char, that doesn't really sound like you."
