There was more in that vein, and then the evening was over.
When the guests had gone, Charlene found that she felt ill at ease. She didn’t have to work hard to know why. ‘We are buying it.’ We. How was she to take that answer? ‘We are buying it’ could mean that he did see them as being joined together one day. Co-owners of the apartment as well as of their lives. But that wasn’t the only possibility. Another was that he’d said ‘we’ because he didn’t want to get into a conversation about their relationship.
She didn’t pursue it because she’d be opening the little locked box inside her locked heart. The little locked box that she had said she would never open; that Baptiste would have to open. She wasn’t sure, now, how firmly she could maintain that vow. Clearly, she couldn’t unlock it in front of other people. It would need to be a private conversation, for a time when there was no one present but her and Baptiste.
A time like now, in fact. And she couldn’t do it. She told herself that it was because she was tired, and Baptiste was tired, and the time when it is easiest to have a fight is when you’re both tired. “Let’s leave the dishes,” she said. “I’ll see to them in the morning.”
“That’s okay, honey. It’s just a matter of loading the dishwasher. Why don’t you go take a shower and get ready for bed while I’m doing that?”
So that is what they did. And, when Baptiste came to bed in his turn, Charlene pretended to be asleep. That was something she had never done before. She felt ashamed. But, when Baptiste put his hand on her shoulder, she stayed still and silent.
Sometimes, we make the most important decisions in our lives without knowing we’ve made them. Next morning, Charlene knew she had come to a decision. She couldn’t have said how. It was simply there. In her head. Something she had to do.
When Baptiste came out of the shower, she handed him a cup of coffee. Arranging her face in what was the least confrontational expression she could muster, she asked, “Why did you say ‘we’ were buying this place?”
He blanched a little. “What?”
She kept her voice firm and calm, her face stony now. “Michael Rooney asked whether this place was a rental and you said, ‘We’re buying it.’ But we are not buying it.”
He shrugged. “I’m buying it.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“We. I. What’s the difference? It’s us, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
“Charlene. What the hell has got into you today?”
But Charlene didn’t want an argument. Not right now. What she wanted was to get clear in her mind where she stood, and what the future held. “It doesn’t matter. Go to work. Well, go and do whatever it is you do. I’ll see you tonight when I get home.”
“In a better frame of mind, I hope.”
She’d stepped over some sort of barrier in her mind, though what it was she still wasn’t quite sure. Things became a little clearer when Baptiste had gone and Aunt May came to visit, as she had said she would. Charlene hugged her. May said, “That was a delicious meal you cooked last night. You’re very talented. Have you thought of taking it up full time?”
“Not a chance! I watch the chef at work. Being a waitress is a full-time job, but being a chef takes over your whole life. What I want is to become the best home cook I can be.”
“To cook for Baptiste?” May raised an eyebrow.
Charlene hesitated. “Sure. For Baptiste. Or for someone.”
“Ah. I see. It’s that way, is it? I have to tell you: I did wonder.”
“Strangely enough, it’s your visit that helped me get it straight in my mind. Baptiste has been great for me. He rescued me when I was in deep trouble. He’s fun and sweet and stable. And he’s...” She was aware that her face was going very red.
May laughed. “It’s all right, dear. You needn’t be afraid to tell me that Baptiste is good in bed. I was your age once, you know. Being good in bed is very important. Is it enough – that’s the question.”
“I don’t...” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Let me try to put it in words for you. You’re young, and you’re very attractive. You have a great thing going with Baptiste. But you won’t always be young. You’ll always be attractive, because you’re you. But, one day, it will be the attractiveness of a great personality. Kindness. Thoughtfulness. Not the kind of attractiveness you have now. What you don’t know, and won’t find out until you get there, is: Will that be enough for Baptiste? Or will he, as so many men have done, decide to trade you in for a newer model?” Her eyes flickered with intensity.
“It sounds horrible when you put it like that.”
“It isn’t horrible, Charlene, it’s reality. It’s how life has been for countless women before you. A lot of them were married, though, and you aren’t. A lot of them had a financial stake in the house they lived in and the business their husband ran. And you don’t. There have been some changes to the law, and you might have some hope if you went to court after Baptiste threw you out with nothing...”
“Baptiste would never throw me out.”
“Okay, if you and Baptiste split. As I say, you might have some hope that the courts might do something for. But it would cost money, and you could spend that money, and win nothing. Is this the way your mind has been running?”
Charlene nodded. “And it’s not only the money thing. It’s – I wonder is he committed? Does he plan on forever with me?” Tears shone in her eyes. “I suggested we might want to get married. He didn’t say no, but he made it clear it wasn’t something he was thinking about. I suggested we might want to have children. He wasn’t keen at all.”
May opened her purse and took out an envelope. “I want you to keep this very safe. Ideally, not in this apartment. Would your bank keep it for you?”
“I have a safety deposit box there. But what is it?”
“It’s my will, Charlene.”
“Oh, Auntie! You won’t need that for years yet.” Charlene shook her head, waving her hand dismissively.
But May stood her ground. “I won’t need it all, dear, because I’ll be dead. You don’t take anything with you, you know. Which is why I’m leaving it all to you.”
“Me?”
“You’re the only family I have. It was you or Michael, and Michael has more than he needs. And, if the doctors are right, you’ll be acting on this will in two years at the most.”
Now the tears that were threatening sprung from Charlene’s eyes. “Oh, Auntie May. Oh, please don’t say that.”
“Hiding from the truth doesn’t help anyone. And I’ve had a good life, Charlene, because I figured out very early on what women had to do to protect themselves. Much earlier than your mother did, which is why you ended up having to be rescued from a place no young woman should be expected to live in. I own my apartment in California. I don’t own much else, but the apartment is mine. And, when I go, it will be yours. You can either move into it yourself, or you can sell it. But what I want you to promise me, Charlene, is that you will use this inheritance to buy a place of your own. Then you’ll have security. Love is a wonderful thing, Charlene. But love without security ain’t so hot. And Baptiste doesn’t look like he plans to give you security. Will you make me that promise?”
Charlene wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes, Auntie May. I promise.”
“And will you keep it? Whatever Baptiste or any other man says to you? Will you let your inheritance be your ace in the hole?”
Charlene nodded. In a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, she said, “I will.”
Chapter 8
Three weeks later, Charlene left Baptiste. She would never have believed it would happen so fast. In fact, she hadn’t really believed it would happen at all.
In the end it was simple enough, though Charlene could not have told you – because she couldn’t tell herself – whether it came about out of frustration or because her impending legacy gave her security and the freedom to act that she hadn’t had before. It was
her day off. She cooked a meal that Baptiste said was the best he’d ever eaten. She let him load the dishwasher. Then she asked him to sit beside her ‘and talk’.
“Okay, Honey,” he said when they were both seated. “What do you want to talk about?”
Charlene took a deep breath. She hoped it was not obvious to Baptiste, but she had had to summon all her strength for this conversation. “Us.”
He rubbed his chin. “Us? We’re doing okay, aren’t we?”
“Right now, Baptiste, yes, we are. What I’m thinking about is the future. Next year. Five years from now. Ten years from...”
“Well, who knows what’s going to happen next year? Nobody, that’s who. So why don’t we just wait till we get there, and see what happens?”
“I need more than that, Baptiste.” She pressed her lips together, her jaw set.
“Why?”
“Because I need you to feel the same commitment I do. I need to know you want us to be together forever. One day I’ll be an old lady and I don’t want to be wheeling all my belongings around in a shopping cart. I want some security.” She felt a fluttering in her chest, but remained cool, calm and collected as she looked directly at Baptiste.
“Not this again. Look, Charlene, I’m not interested in making long term plans. Can’t you understand that?”
“I do understand it. And that’s why the long-term plans that I’ve made don’t have you in them.” She gasped inwardly. There. She’d said it and suddenly knew she meant it.
Baptiste looked as though someone had hit him on the head with a baseball bat. “What did you say?”
She took a deep breath. “Baptiste, it’s been great. You saved me when I needed to be saved. You looked after me. You cherished me, and that was wonderful. Is wonderful. But you don’t want any long-term plan that has you and me in it together, and I’m not prepared to live like that.”
His mouth fell open. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s over. I’ll sleep on this sofa tonight, and I’ll move out tomorrow. I’ll always have the sweetest feelings for you, Baptiste, but I have to move on.”
She watched his face as he mulled over what she’d said. A flush crept up his thick neck, and he gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring. “This isn’t about security. Is it? This isn’t about any of the things you’re talking about. This is about you, and what you want, and the fact is that you don’t want me any more. While don’t you just say that? Why do you have to make up all this BS about security?” He glared at her, his dark eyes flashing.
Charlene knew she could get into an argument here, and she knew it would be pointless. She wasn’t prepared to do it. “Baptiste. I’ve told you where I stand.”
“No, you haven’t, you’ve told me where you lie – right there on that couch instead of in bed with me, where you belong.”
“I’m sorry you’re taking it this way.”
“We’ll talk in the morning. You’ll have changed your mind by then.” He rose and stomped out of the room, giving her one last pained look.
BUT SHE HADN’T. AFTER a frustrating conversation with Baptiste, in which he’d been firm in refusing to believe that the reasons she gave for leaving were real reasons, and she’d been equally firm in refusing to be drawn into a verbal fight, Baptiste left ‘to earn the money that keeps us – you and me both – in this apartment’. Charlene packed her bag and carried it to Bella’s place.
She stood on the step looking lost and alone, carrying a large back-pack. “I’m sorry, Bella, but could you put me up for just a few days? While I find somewhere else?”
Bella hugged her hard, and then looked into her face with eyes that glowed with affection. “Oh, sweetie, you can stay here as long as you like. Have you broken with him permanently? Is there some hope?”
Charlene sighed. “I don’t know. Baptiste would say that there is no such thing as permanently. But for us to get back together he’s going to have to change what he thinks, or I’m going to have to change what I think. And I’m not changing.”
Bella shook her head. “And my brother can be very stubborn.”
And so began one of the most frustrating periods of Charlene’s life. At the restaurant where she worked Baptiste turned up, walked in and insisted on talking to her. Finally, the restaurant owner told Charlene this could not go on. Baptiste’s frantic desperation; his insistent yelling, was alienating customers and she’d either have to persuade Baptiste to stop coming in, or she’d be replaced. One night Baptiste followed her home from the restaurant and started visiting her at Bella’s place, too. Every time, it was the same conversation. ‘Come back to me. Things will be different. You know you love me, and I love you.’ No one was getting any peace.
One such day, Charlene decided there was nothing to be lost and so she asked him the question. “If I come back, will you marry me?”
“It’s too early to decide that. First come back. We’ll see how it goes. And then, after a while, we’ll take a look at that question.”
But Charlene remembered what Bella had told her about his earlier loves and how they had broken up. “I’m going to take that as a No.”
She was put on a final warning at work, and begged Baptiste to stop coming there. All he would say was, “I will. As soon as you come back to me”. And so she knew that the final warning would inevitably end in dismissal. She decided not to wait. She had enough money to pay rent for about four weeks, and so, on her day off, she took the bus to a town twenty miles away and found an apartment she could move into right away. She said to Bella, “I’m not going to tell you where I’m going. That way, you can tell Baptiste in all honesty that you don’t know. But I promise I’ll come back and see you when I’m settled.” Bella hugged her. Then Charlene got on the bus to start her new life.
Two days later, she walked into the coffee shop and met Matthew and Don.
Chapter 9
Charlene said goodbye to Don and Matthew and left the coffee shop. Twenty minutes later, she was being interviewed for the job of waitress in a busy restaurant. Although the thought did not occur to her, this was the first time she had ever been interviewed for any job while in possession of a secure future. She needed a job right now, because she had to pay the rent, but one day, probably not too far in the future, she would be able to buy a place of her own. That would be a sad day indeed, because it would mean that Aunt May had gone. But she would revel in the knowledge that she was free to make her own life in a way her mother had never been able to.
She had an additional security: the knowledge that, if this interview did not go well, she could walk right back to the coffee shop and be taken on there. And so, it might have been that she reacted in a way that she would not previously have reacted when the owner of the restaurant took her into a back room and, in the course of the interview, said, “You’re a very attractive young lady,” and placed a hand on her ass. She slapped him across the face. It was a very hard slap. As she walked through the restaurant towards the door, she said – to a waitress but in the hearing of the customers – “What an asshole! Does he expect all the waitresses to let him butt-grab them?” And out she marched into the street.
Empowered. That was how she felt. For the first time in her life she, Charlene, was in control and doing what she wanted to do. Not just what others expected. It was a revelation. And what was it she wanted to do? She’d have to think about that. It included making her own decisions. Following her own instincts. Her own instincts were not always what society regarded as feminine, she knew that, and maybe that was just fine. Maybe some of the things she was going to do would be distinctly unfeminine in society’s normal view.
But why? Was it unfeminine to like men? Was it unfeminine to like to be in bed with them? To enjoy, on occasion, taking the lead role? Sitting astride a man and taking her pleasure, the way men through the ages have taken their pleasure with women? Charlene didn’t think so.
Was it purely by chance that those thoughts were uppermost in her mind wh
en she thought about Don and Matthew? Possibly not. When she walked into the coffee shop, she was thinking about a job and earning the money to pay the rent until she no longer had to worry about rent payments. Of course she was. But she was also thinking about two men, and how different they were, and how good they looked, and whether they were unattached (because Charlene was not about to break up some other woman’s relationship), and what they would be like in bed.
As it happened, Don and Matthew (neither of whom was, at that moment, attached to someone else) processed a very similar series of thoughts when Charlene walked through the door, placed the job card on the counter and said, “You can tear that up. The job is taken.” They were certainly thinking how good it was that they had filled the waitressing job, but they would have been less than human and certainly less than male if they had not also been thinking how good she looked and what she would be like in bed.
Isn’t it interesting how, when you take away the constraints that society has placed on the conduct of men and women, they think things that are so alike? Perhaps it has really always been that way, since men and women first eyed each other across the fire in a stone age cave. Perhaps it is unique to our time. Whatever it may be, Charlene was thinking about sex with Don and Matthew and Don and Matthew were thinking about sex with Charlene. There was a difference, though, which became clear when Charlene had been working there for a week. The difference was that Don was thinking about sex with Charlene. And no one else. Matthew was thinking about sex with Charlene. And no one else.
But Charlene was thinking about sex with Don and Matthew. Together.
She couldn’t have said how that idea came into her mind, but in her mind it was and it was growing stronger by the day.
It came to a head on that seventh day when the competition between the two men for a date with Charlene had become intense. They had been skirting around the subject for six days and now Don said, “Look here, Charlene. I’ve made it clear that I’d like to date you.”
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