“I’m serious, Charlotte. The more you fight him, the more you demand he keep whatever secrets are destroying him…the worse it’s going to get. You want a strong man by your side? You want a man who can hold his own, who can be there to support those children when they walk through those doors next month? Then you need to let him heal his own soul.”
No. No. No. Why couldn’t her mom see this was not a good idea?
“If he confesses his secret, he’ll destroy any semblance of healing this town is going through. I can’t do that to Lacie or Jenn…” She wouldn’t do that to them.
Doris stood, placing the whiskey glasses into the sink, and rinsed them.
“All I’m hearing are excuses”—Doris glanced over her shoulder—“sorry, reasons why he can’t tell the truth, and all those reasons have everything to do with you and nothing to do with him.”
“That’s not true.” Why would her mother say such a thing? This had everything to do with her friends, with the families of their town and with the children who needed to know they were safe now.
Doris turned and leaned against the counter. “Charlotte. I love you. You are the woman I always knew you to be. I wasn’t a perfect mother and I know that.” She closed her eyes for a brief second. “I was too hard on you, especially when you were young, but I am so proud of who you are today.”
Charlotte caught the dazzle of tears in her mother’s eyes.
“I’m who I am because of how you raised me—to be strong and independent. To know what I wanted in life and to never give up or give in. You were the best influence I could ever ask for.” Charlotte smiled with pride for her mother, for the woman who stood before her. “Sure, you were hard. But it’s not like life dealt us a kind hand. You worked three jobs for as long as I could remember just so I could grow up in my childhood home and go to college.”
Doris tilted her head slightly. “I did what I had to do. Just like you’re doing what you have to do now…but sometimes the decisions we make aren’t always the right ones.” There was a faraway look on Doris’s face, leaving Charlotte with no doubt she was looking back to their past.
“Mom.” Charlotte rose and went to stand beside her. “Right or wrong, those decisions made us into who we are today. No regrets, remember?”
“Not everyone can live like that, Charlotte-mine. You and I might be able to, but you know your husband can’t.”
Charlotte snorted. “He’s stronger than you give him credit for. He lived with the secret of Julia and Gabriel for all these years. I think he can handle keeping one more secret.”
“That’s really not for you to decide, is it?”
The reproof from her mom hurt, but she was right.
“You can’t control everything, love. It might mess up this little haven you’ve worked so hard to create, but nothing good comes out of secrets. Forcing him to be someone he’s not…that will destroy him, and in the end it will destroy this town.”
Charlotte winced at her mother’s words.
“I take it you didn’t see that scenario happening.”
“No.” It hurt her to admit it, but admit it she did. “I can be strong for him. I can be the strength he needs when it gets too hard for him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte. No one is that strong. Not even you.”
Charlotte looked away. Was her mother right? Was she asking too much of Jordan? Too much of herself?
She was too afraid to find out.
14
Charlotte reread the same paragraph on a report Sheila had left on her desk for the umpteenth time. She knew it had something to do with bylaw changes for some petty grievance, but beyond that…she just couldn’t get with it today.
She’d gone home last night to speak with Jordan, to find out the truth and to talk about him telling Samantha, but the house had been empty. He’d left.
She’d sent him multiple messages, even called his cell, but no reply.
She had no idea where he was.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d told him to leave; she just hadn’t thought he actually would….
There was a sick ache in her heart that wouldn’t go away every time she thought about the words her mother had said last night. All she’d wanted to do was to help this town. To be a strength to those who needed it. To be a support during the nightmare so many families were trying to get through. She hadn’t thought about the devastation she could be causing by forcing Jordan to keep his secret.
She told Jordan she wanted them to work on their marriage, to be a team…but how could they do that when she was the one calling the shots and forcing him to be someone he wasn’t?
Did she even know who he was?
When she’d come home last night she’d noticed his backpack was missing and a note left on her bedside table.
It’d taken her a while before she’d read the note.
I will never forgive myself for what I did or for what I didn’t do. I can’t fix my mistakes but I can make up for them—and I will. You have always been the best thing to happen to me—you made me believe I could be a better man than I truly am. Starting today, I will be that man.
She’d memorized his words, read it over and over, looking for the answers to all the questions she had. What was he doing today to be that man?
Her cell phone buzzed on her desk. She set the paper in her hands down and glanced at the phone.
I need a girls’ night. Lacie is bringing brownies. Gina has some cheese and crackers. Anne Marie is bringing a pie. You’re in charge of wine. You can’t say no.
Charlotte frowned. She couldn’t say no? She was glad Jenn was in a good mood, or at least in the mood for a girls’ night, but in all honesty that was the last thing Charlotte wanted right now. Even being here, in the office, having to talk on the phone and deal with everyday things was taxing.
She needed to process everything that had just happened. She needed time to let it sink in.
She’d met with a trauma counselor back in the beginning, shortly after the shooting had happened. Her focus had been on everyone else, on how she could help them, be there for them, and the therapist had wanted to focus only on her.
There wasn’t time to focus on her and how she was dealing with the tragedy. Not then. Not when she had to be focused on everyone else. But there was something the therapist had said that stuck with her.
“There’s going to come a point when you have no choice but to take the time to deal with this, Charlotte. It’s going to hit hard, and when it does, you need to give yourself permission to be emotional.”
It was the being-emotional part that bothered Charlotte the most. Just because she was a woman didn’t mean she had to be emotional in order to deal with things life threw at her. She preferred to look at things logically, to see where she could have made a change or a difference.
She saved her emotions for the punching bag.
Except spending time hitting the punching bag last night hadn’t helped her today.
Who was Jordan? She thought she knew. She thought she understood him. Thought they had a connection and a stability to their marriage, but lately everything she’d known about him, or thought she’d known, was off. Wrong. Turned around. The man she thought she knew wouldn’t have left a woman alone to raise a child. Jordan had always been very clear with her that he didn’t want children. His passion, his drive was in helping other children, but there was no deep need within him to have his own. She accepted that. She didn’t feel that need either.
So she didn’t understand how he could turn his back on his own child. That he could see his child day in and day out and never once acknowledge him or try to help him.
Sheila buzzed her. “Tyler Redding is on the line.”
Tyler? He was vice principal of the elementary school and Jordan’s closest friend. Why would he be calling her?
“Did he say what he wanted?” Sheila normally screened most of her calls just in case there was something she could help with herself,
or to find out if Charlotte would need some background information while on the phone.
“Just that it was about Jordan and important.”
Breathing in deep, Charlotte hit the call button and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk.
“Tyler.”
“Charlotte, what’s going on? I received an email from Jordan that doesn’t make a lick of sense. I tried calling him but he’s not picking up his phone.”
Charlotte quickly scrolled through her in-box to see if she had a message from her husband, but there was nothing.
“I’ve no idea. Was it about hiring more teachers?” That’s the only thing she could think of that dealt with Tyler personally.
“What? No, I’ve got that under control. He quit. Did you know that? What the—”
“He what?” Charlotte pushed her chair back and stood. “What do you mean, he quit?”
“You didn’t know? I knew he was cracking, but seriously, Charlotte, what is he thinking? School is starting in a few weeks—he can’t quit.”
She shook her head, feeling panicked. This wasn’t what she’d planned, what she’d wanted.
“When did he send it?” she asked.
“Thirty minutes ago. What is going on?” Charlotte heard the stress and bewilderment in Tyler’s voice. With Jordan resigning, it meant Tyler would take on his role. It must be running through his head, this scenario.
“Did Jordan stay with you last night?” she asked.
“No, why would he?”
Charlotte frowned. Then where did he go?
“Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you two, but I just forwarded you the email,” Tyler said. “I don’t get the feeling that he’s joking around, and with the opening just around the corner…” Tyler paused, and she waited to see where he was going with this. “We need to call a school board meeting and decide our next action steps.”
Charlotte nodded. Tyler was more Jordan’s friend than hers, but she’d always liked his calm approach to things.
“I’ll get Sheila on that. Expect a call from her. I’ll try to track down Jordan and figure out what’s going on.” She waited for his reaction to that.
“Just find him, okay? I’m worried. Word of warning,” Tyler said before she went to hang up. “If you’re thinking of talking Jordan out of resigning, it’s too late. You’ll see from his email that he copied them all, making sure they all knew.”
The email Tyler forwarded hit her in-box and she opened it. Her hands shook slightly, so she clenched and unclenched them, stretching out her fingers as far as she could to help relieve the tension.
She read the email, hearing Jordan’s voice in her head as she read his words.
Effective immediately, I am tendering my resignation as principal at Stillwater Elementary School. Following the shooting in May, my energy has been focused on ensuring that the returning students feel safe and secure the moment they enter school grounds, and I have come to realize that it is now time to focus on myself and my own healing. I regret that I am sending this to you via email and so close to school starting, but I believe that Tyler Redding will be an excellent acting principal until you either find a replacement or offer the position to him full-time. Thank you for your understanding.
She could barely make out the last sentence due to the tears streaming down her face. She could only imagine how much this must have killed him to write this email, to step back from something he always said he was called to do.
Her heart ached and she wished she knew where he was. She needed to talk to him, to see if he was okay…
“Charlotte?”
Charlotte quickly swiped at the wetness on her cheeks.
“Sorry, I was…” the words caught in her throat. “I just read Jordan’s email.” She struggled to draw in air, feeling lightheaded.
“Whoa.” Sheila rushed over and placed her hand on Charlotte’s arm. “You’re okay. Put your head down for a moment.”
Charlotte’s body shuddered as she tried to follow Sheila’s instruction. She couldn’t though…she couldn’t breathe and she hit the desk with the palm of her hand hard.
“It’s okay. Shhh…” Sheila rubbed her back, circular motions to help calm her. “It’s okay, Charlotte. It’s okay.”
Little by little, her airways relaxed and the air flowed easier. The intense pain in her heart didn’t lighten up, however.
“Oh, God…” Charlotte muttered.
“What can I do? How can I help? What do you need from me?” Sheila knelt at her side, worry etched on her brow.
Charlotte shook her head, not sure how to answer. She was losing it. Losing herself, losing her mind…oh God…
“The trustees want to speak to you and are coming in an hour. I’ll tell them you’re unwell. You go home and-”
“No.” Charlotte swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat to recede and the tears to stop. She grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk and wiped her face. “I’m okay.” She said.
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m okay.” Charlotte repeated. “I’m okay.” She needed to be. Had to be.
“I’m…I’m going to go for a walk, clear my head a little.” And try to get in touch with her husband. She had to speak to him.
She wanted to stop the parade of thoughts rushing through her mind. She needed to focus, to figure out the next steps, especially with the trustee meeting happening in an hour.
What she really needed was to punch something hard, to push herself past her physical limits until all she could do was focus on her breathing…that and nothing else…but she didn’t have time for that.
She literally ran down the stairs, rushed past Pastor Scott Helman as he entered the building, and headed down one of the back paths behind Town Hall. She didn’t care how she looked speed-walking through the back gardens; she just needed to release the pent-up energy she was feeling inside.
Where was her husband? Why hadn’t he told her he was doing this? Where did he go? She tried calling him, left a message and then sent a text and waited. She needed to calm down, to find her center and balance herself. She needed to think.
Where was he? Why had he done this now, and without talking to her first? This was the first time he’d spoken about his own healing—what happened when he went and saw Julia?
She stopped at a bench, her hand gripping the curved wood at the top. Julia must be the key. Maybe she’d said something to him yesterday that hit home.
Her phone buzzed with a message.
I’m at the lighthouse.
He was still in town. She breathed a sigh as a huge rush of relief filled her.
Are you okay? Please say yes.
I’m okay.
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. I’m on my way, she replied.
The need to see him, to tell him she loved him…it hit her hard. It was all she could focus on, nothing else mattered right now.
She’d been so blind for so long, not really seeing him, what he was going through…or maybe she just didn’t want to. But that all changed and it changed today. Right now.
He was her focus. Him. What he was going through. She rushed to her car, not caring about any of her responsibilities or who saw her. She just needed to get to Jordan.
When she pulled up into the driveway of the lighthouse, she noticed Jordan’s bike off to the side. There could be only one place he’d headed…the spot on the cliffs where they loved to sit and watch the sunset.
She found him sitting on a bench, staring out over the bay.
He looked…broken, She rushed over and wrapped her arms around him, so thankful to see him, to hold him.
“I love you.” The words rushed out. She grabbed his face, her palms over his cheeks. “I love you, Jordan Stone.” She repeated, needing him to hear her.
“You worried me when you weren’t home last night.” She sat beside him, angled towards him until her knee touched his thigh. She just needed to touch him, to be connected in some way to him.
<
br /> “Sorry. You were right. I needed to take some time.” He didn’t look at her.
“Where did you go?”
“Nowhere, really. Slept in the office at the school, walked the hallways, thought about life.”
Thought about life? Walked the hallways of the school?
“Is that where you decided to resign?” She turned to look at him, wishing he would make eye contact with her. The guilt of not being there for him, to help him through that decision weighted heavily on her.
“I knew what you’d say, Char. Same thing you’ve been saying all summer. Except I just…” He leaned forward, his shoulders bowed, lips pursed as he struggled to finish.
“You just can’t do it anymore,” she said for him. “I know.” She wasn’t going to push him anymore to remain quiet, to keep his secret.
Startled, he looked at her with disbelief written all over his face.
“No. That’s not it.” He shook his head. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, to talk to you about this but…”
“About what? Why you resigned?”
He angled toward her. “That, and other things.”
“Other things?” She frowned. What other things? She wasn’t sure she could handle any more confessions, to be honest. He needed her understanding and she was trying, she really was.
“I’m here. Why don’t you explain it to me? From the beginning? I know I’ve been in”—she searched the sky, as if looking for the right way to say how she felt—“crisis mode since May, and rather than listen to you, to your side of the story, I’ve been assuming things.” She shrugged. “A lot of things, in fact.”
“You want to know?” He sat back, uncertain whether to believe her or not—she could see that as clear as day.
“It’s not so much that I want to know, but I think I need to.” The words stuck in her throat, and she wanted to take them back but knew she couldn’t.
He had every right to say what was on his mind and expect her to listen to him. That was what marriage was about. Give and take. For the longest time she’d been taking from him, expecting him to give more than he obviously could. That had to stop.
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