CHAPTER 20 Charlie
CHAPTER 20
Charlie
R eyna corners me in my office as I’m getting ready to head home. “We have to talk to Cam,” she says. “He’s fucking up with Shelby. He just called me asking for an intervention. If he’s asking for it, you know things are bad.”
Reyna’s wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that lights up. She has one for every day in December, I think.
“Ugh.” I groan, loosening my tie and swiveling around in my office chair. “Why does he sabotage himself? It’s so easy to see the answer. He needs to get his head on straight. Just because his ex left him doesn’t mean he’s not lovable.”
Reyna stares at me, her body entirely still, her arms crossed over her chest.
“What?” I ask, a defensive note in my voice.
“What’s going on here? Who are you, and what have you done with CharlieBoo?”
I huff. “Whatever.”
What’s going on, Reyna, is I have my own little issues of the heart. What’s going on is every night I go home to Rowan, and I want to possess him. I don’t know how I went my entire life without knowing him, and now that I do, I don’t like my life when he’s not around. Work is intolerable. All I want to do is put on my dirtiest sneakers and go walking along ditches to see if I can find a philodendron. (If it weren’t for Google, I wouldn’t even know what they look like.)
Every night this week I’ve taken Rowan to search for Wilbur. We’ve slowly worked our way north from where Rowan picked up the miscreants.
We’re looking for that proverbial needle in a haystack. Or Waldo. All we know is which direction they headed when they stole Rowan’s car. It’s just the one road for a while, and then, once it splits, they have limited choices for another while. So we go along the possible routes, checking both sides of the road to see if they tossed his pet plant out the window.
Rowan tells me he’s looking during the day, too, when he’s not busy. I don’t like it that he’s back doing rideshare work after he got his car stolen. But I bought him an interior dashcam, which I hope will cut down on the possibility of any future shenanigans. And he needs to feel useful, I think. I can let him work. That is, he doesn’t need my approval or permission or anything, but I still need to remind myself not to make a fuss about it.
But … Wilbur’s still lost. It’s funny how when I’m in the office doing repetitive work, I get all bored and grumpy. Looking for Rowan’s plant, though, which is also repetitive and a lot more uncomfortable, is no problem at all, mostly because I want to erase that sad look from his face.
“So can you come over? We need to talk with Cam.” Reyna’s studying me.
“Fine. When?”
“Um, now? Follow me home. I have prosecco.”
I give her a curt nod. “Give me a sec, and then yeah, I’m on my way.”
“Great. Thanks.” She turns on her heel, and I call Rowan.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask when he answers .
“Now that I hear your voice, I’m better,” he says, sounding a little down.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s just one of those days. I see all these lights going up everywhere, and I guess … I don’t know. Holidays are a weird time.”
“I think I know what you mean,” I say. “But I want you to tell me more. Except we can’t right now. I’m going to be late coming home.” It feels weird calling him to tell him this. Not since I lived with my parents have I ever felt like clueing someone in on where I was. But I don’t want Rowan to worry. Not when he’s been abandoned all his life.
“Okay. No problem.” I can feel his … not hurt, exactly, but his disappointment, through the phone. Like he thinks I’m going to go fuck someone else or that I don’t want to go home to him.
“It’s not like that. I want to see you. It’s just … my sister came in and told me we need to stage an intervention for my brother before he fucks up his love life. I don’t think he’d want an audience for it.”
I can hear Rowan relax. “Oh. That’s good. That you’re helping him, I mean. Is he gonna be okay?”
I make a decision to let Rowan in, at least more than is common knowledge. “It’s a long story, and some of this is private stuff, but my brother married a man who works in my office—mine and Reyna’s actually—so he can get health insurance. I guess they had some sort of agreement that they would split up once he healed. He’s all better now, and it’s like they still think they need to split up, even though they make a great couple. So my sister and I want to talk to him. I won’t be long, I don’t think. But go ahead and eat dinner without me.”
“Okay.”
“Do you need me to order you pizza or something?” Rowan’s not much of a cook, I’ve learned.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll find something.”
I also swear that I’m going to figure out a way to make Rowan’s holiday dreams come true. Even if neither of us know what those are. He wants a family, and it’s too early to show him mine. I don’t want to get my mom’s hopes up. But maybe we can go do some regular holiday stuff, just the two of us. Maybe that will be enough for now.
I can’t fix years of not having a support system. I can only start with me and slowly introduce him to others around me. So maybe I just take it one day at a time right now.
But the main thing I need to do tonight is save my brother from himself.
It’s not far from our Century City office to my sister’s house in Santa Monica, and my brother lives in the San Fernando Valley, but when I get there, Cam’s already drinking beer, and Reyna’s drinking prosecco. She’s got a charcuterie tray out, and I reach for the crackers and brie.
Reyna decides to play innocent when she faces Cam. “So why is my big brother here, looking like he’s going to burn down Los Angeles?”
Cam tells us the same thing I explained to Rowan. When Reyna asks him if it’s true they need to get a divorce, Cam admits he doesn’t want to, but they had a deal.
“And no one ever renegotiates contracts,” I say.
Cam’s eyes go to the ceiling. “Smart-ass.”
After a little more sibling bickering, Reyna turns her attention back to Cam. “So you’re asking us to come up with a grand gesture?”
“Yeah. I want to show Shelby I love him.”
“ Love ?” I ask. Holy shit, my brother’s in love. I knew they were into each other, but I guess I wasn’t expecting him to just say it. Isn’t love supposed to be a bigger deal than that?
“Yes, love . Keep up. I love him. ”
I try not to roll my eyes. I can’t see inside his head. Or his heart. But … fucking finally.
Good thing he can’t see inside mine right now, because it’s got some issues. Rowan-sized issues that I can’t talk about with my siblings, at least not right now. First off, because this conversation is about Cam. It’s not about me. And second off, because … Rowan’s nothing like what I planned. And yet … he seems to be what I need.
Can I change my plans? Renegotiate my own contract?
We discuss how Cam could show Shelby his feelings. None of the three of us is good at grand gestures. Finally, we settle for Cam simply telling Shelby how he feels. Genius stuff, I know.
“At least we know he’s not going to ditch you at the altar,” I say, being the asshole younger brother. It’s like a shirt I put on and never take off when I’m around my family.
Cam glares. “Thanks for that.”
“Shelby is in love with you. You’re in love with him. So I’m not seeing the big problem.”
As I say those words, I get a weird prickling up and down my spine. Dammit. Am I falling in love, too? With Rowan?
“I don’t know. Don’t you think he deserves someone … better?” Cam asks. And because he’s being vulnerable, I decide not to poke at him.
“Who better than you? Do you trust anyone else to protect him?” I demand. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to protect Rowan.
Cam stares at us.
“I think that’s your answer,” Reyna says to Cam. “Tell him you love him and you want to be with him.”
I agree with her, but why do other people’s problems feel so much simpler than mine?
Reyna gets an idea to enlist Noah’s help, and soon we’re just sitting around snacking on her food and talking about other things.
Cam reaches over and taps my foot, which is crossed over my ankle. “What about you? Are you ever going to get your happily ever after?”
I snort. “Hell no. That whole concept is straight out of the 1950s—a wife, station wagon, kids, house in the suburbs. I don’t want any of that shit.”
“So update it to this century,” Cam says. “The perfect guy?”
I shake my head. I’m so sick of being what everyone wants me to be. “I still don’t want kids, a minivan, a dog, an air fryer, or more content to watch on multiple electronic devices than there are hours in my life. There will be no riding on a damn horse off into the sunset for me.”
“So that means you do want a husband?” Reyna presses, as she refills her glass. “Because I noticed you didn’t put that on your nope list.”
I exhale. “I don’t know. Do things have to be so … hetero? For ten years, I’ve wanted a perfect husband. But why? I’m starting to not want to be married. Though I’ll admit I kind of want a partner to argue with about whose turn it is to take out the garbage.”
“Then you’d do it anyway, grouse at him, and come back in the house and show him some of that affection I think you have deep down,” Cam says.
I glare at him. “Stop knowing me so well.”
“Maybe you don’t need a standard relationship for your happily ever after,” Reyna says. “Plenty of people don’t. Remember my best friend, Max, from college?”
“Yeah.” I’ve met him a few times when he flew out here to see her.
“He’s dating two firefighters in Vermont. Like, they’re all in a relationship together.” She fans herself. “And wow, they’re hot.”
I smirk, picturing it. “Good for him.”
“My point is, no one outside of your relationship gets to tell you what to do or how to be. You can do exactly as you please with whoever you fall in love with.”
“True,” I say .
“Maybe stop comparing yourself to everyone else,” Reyna says. “And start thinking about what it is you want.”
“What have you been doing lately, anyway?” Cam asks.
I shrug. “Work.”
Reyna narrows her eyes. “You’ve left work early every day this week.”
“I’m kind of seeing a guy,” I admit. “But it’s new, and I don’t know if it’s serious.”
“The same guy you were talking about at Mammoth?” Reyna asks.
“You had a guy in Mammoth?” Cam asks. “Why didn’t I know about it?”
“Perhaps because you’re all wrapped up in Shelby.”
“Hmm. But you’ve found someone?”
“I met a guy.”
“Okay.” Cam’s voice is tentatively happy.
“He tried to mug me.”
“What the fuck?”
“So I took him to dinner?”
Silence.
“And home to my house.”
More silence from my brother.
“And we’ve been seeing each other since just after Thanksgiving.” My voice lowers. “And now I’m into him.”
“Charles Jackson Cooper, what the actual fuck has gotten into you?”
I snort at my brother middle-naming me. “Him, I guess.” Or vice versa. In more ways than one.
“And now you have a boyfriend.” It’s not a question.
Is Rowan my boyfriend? More like my new appendage. And amputating him would hurt. “Kinda. We haven’t talked about that.”
“When do I get to meet him?”
Something inside me is screaming that it’s too soon .
But Cam? Cam will support me.
“Whenever, I guess, if you want. But it’s not the kind of situation where I could take him home to Mom and Dad.” They both wince. “I want to. I was just thinking about it. But you know how they get. Either Mom will start planning the wedding or she and Dad will be horrified because they think he’s all wrong for me. He’s got tattoos—a lot of tattoos—and pink hair. A lot of piercings in his ears and a nose ring. He’s younger than me. He drives for ShareARide. Mom and Dad will wonder what the hell I’m doing.”
“And you care what they think,” Reyna says.
I shrug.
“You always care what they think,” Cam says gently. “You care what everyone thinks. I do the same thing, by the way. It’s not just you.”
“But sometimes you care too much,” Reyna points out.
I throw up my hands. “That’s the problem. I want to date him, but when they meet him, they’re going to see his tattoos and all the things on the surface, not who he is underneath.”
“You could give them a chance,” Cam says. “They might see what you do in him.”
“Really, Charlie,” Reyna says. “It’s like you’re scared to be yourself and show them who and what you truly like.”
“I’m not scared of anything,” I say automatically. But Reyna’s words cut deep. The truth is, I’ve always been afraid of being myself. Afraid that I wasn’t special enough. I wasn’t the only girl. I wasn’t the firstborn boy. I was just … a middle child with nothing particularly noteworthy about me.
So I made myself be noteworthy. Good job, good house, all that.
And it doesn’t feel like it was worth it.
I’ve been having more fun poking around in gutters—literally picking through trash—with Rowan, trying to find his plant, than I have at any fancy law event.
And that’s probably telling me something.
“This is Cam’s intervention, not mine,” I snap.
They both chuckle. “Well, maybe you’re next,” Reyna says. “You’re awfully prickly a lot of the time. And maybe you’d be a little happier if you gave yourself what you wanted every once in a while instead of just accepting what was given to you or chasing after the wrong things.”
Oh, Rowan is a very wrong thing. And I wouldn’t mind chasing him. Preferably to fuck him.
“So, when are you going to bring him by? You don’t have to be ready to propose. We can just have the two of you over for dinner at our place,” Cam says. I notice how he says “our” and means him and Shelby.
“When I’m ready.” I glare at Cam. “Are you going to do what you need to do to tell Shelby your feelings?”
“Yeah.” His voice cracks. “He’s too important to mess this up.”
That’s how I feel about Rowan. He’s both not on my plan and too important to fuck things up with. I just have to figure out my feelings first. Then I can talk with him.