Chapter 11 - Charlie
“I ’m giving up. I don't know what to do. Should I just accidentally fall over and present myself to him?” I sigh, exacerbated over trying to get a read on him. Lying on the floor with all of Mila's books stacked around me, I'm surrounded by all of the romance a gal could ever ask for and I couldn't be more miserable.
“I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection but for the first time, I’m not sure that I'm willing to settle for it. I want him … why doesn't he want me?” I groan, hoping some divine entity will guide me.
“If he thinks I’m going to wait around forever then he's got another thing coming. I’m a catch, Mila, a catch!” Forcing all of the confidence I have into that statement. Trying to convince myself that I won't wait for any man, but my biggest problem is that I don't think Porter is just any man.
And that terrifies me.
Half of the curtains are closed and despite Mila having a better day, she's still right in the thick of it. At almost fifteen weeks, she is walking that fine line of is it bloating or is it the bump ? Our goal is for her to have a shower each day. That's the only thing I ask of her. It can be at any time while I'm there and it's one of those things that you hate to do but you feel so much better once it's done.
We've also started to do a daily bump check which allows me to get her out of bed and hopefully motivate her to shower, independent of me nagging. I can check her weight at the same time but also gives us a little moment to fangirl over that tiny bean growing inside her.
I get Dante to have a bath with her once a week so I can swap out the dirty sheets on her bed for clean ones and it also gives them a little couple time together. So far it's worked out well, other than when Mila had that smell aversion period and he smelt like old lady soap to her. She made him stand in the shower to watch her seeing as he insisted on being in the room still.
Mila reaches out to take Attila’s framed snout print that sits on her bedside table. I've noticed she's been keeping it close since she's been pregnant. Now that she can no longer go and visit the tree where he’s buried, she holds onto his snout print when she’s thinking of him.
“If I told you something about Porter can you promise not to tell anyone?” Mila says, her worn voice getting rougher each day. Perking up, I crawl on the floor to the edge of the bed where she's lying and lean into her.
“What do you mean you know something about Porter that I don't know?” I say, lowering my voice in case Dante is creeping outside waiting for me to let him in the room.
“I promised I wouldn't tell,” she says, her eyes darting to the closed bedroom door.
“Mila, I’m your best friend and am currently looking after you. I'm not above threats. Tell me!” I whisper shout at her, trying to establish dominance.
Smiling at me, she gives a sly wink and says, “Ooooh, threats. Tell me more.”
“Ugh, I knew that wouldn't work. How about I don't butter your toast to the edges? Or what if I only get you thin socks to wear when your feet are cold and not the big thick ones you like?”
Gasping, her smile relaxes a little as her energy wanes.
“What if you got me some corn chips, I'll tell you then. Specifically, the ones in the red packet with the black writing. I need that extra cheese flavour on my tongue so bad. Seriously Charlie, can you get me some of those corn chips, please . And sour cream. Corn chips and sour cream, and I'll sing like a birdy.”
“Okay, okay, I get the hint. I'll go get you some corn chips. You can tell me all about him when I'm back and you can take a nap while you wait,” I say, closing the open curtains and creeping out of the room to let her rest.
I've messaged Dante to let him know I’m popping out to the store to get snacks and I'll be back shortly.
Heading into the supermarket I get every packet of red corn chips I can find in case I get the wrong brand. You'd be surprised how many different red packets there are with black writing and the last thing I want to do is get the wrong food for a pregnant woman.
I've been sleeping like crap since everything went down with Porter and the pull towards Beans is stronger than the need to rush back to Mila while she naps.
Is there ever a wrong time to have coffee?
Absolutely not.
I might even pick up a new book that I can read while she rests.
The frozen wind whips around me as I scurry from my car to the warm serenity of the coffee shop. Pushing the door open I immediately walk into a person attempting to leave.
“Whoops, sorry about that. You must be freezing. I don't know how you all live in the cold like this all the time. I’m definitely a beach kind of guy,” an upbeat, slightly erratic voice says.
Unwrapping my scarf from around my head, I'm greeted with the grinning face of Tristan. “It's not too bad out there. I left my beanie at the house so I had to make do,” I say, lifting up the scarf in my hand. “Any earthquakes recently?” I ask. I never did remember to google about them.
“Huh?
“Earthquakes?” I question again. It's like he's forgotten the whole reason he's up here to begin with.
“Oooh, sorry. I got distracted by the snow for a second. Nothing major, just a few little rumbles here and there,” he says, his smile just a little too big for his face.
“Okay, well … that's a relief. We should have coffee sometime soon and you can tell me all about settling into small town life, we can compare notes,” I say, trying to plaster a happy look on my face when all I can think about is what Porter's big secret is. “I've gotta run now, still have to get lunch and head back but next time I bump into you we’ll sort something out.”
“Sounds great, I look forward to picking your brain,” he says, that too big smile still spread across his face like a cheshire cat. Seeing he's got both his hands full I open the door for him and he wanders out into the snow, hunching over as the wind howls down the street.
My stomach rumbles at the exact moment I approach the display cabinet and see all the mouth watering slices and pastries, but the warm pumpkin soup in the slow cooker behind it calls to me. Who am I kidding? I'm going to get a little of everything and if there are any leftovers, I'll have them tomorrow.
“Feed me, Nova, feed me.” I moan to her as I feign starvation. “Ace, at this point I feel like it would be weird if I saw you anywhere but Beans these days. Do you ever actually go home?”
Mila told me they spent a lot of time together but he's here every morning when I come in for my coffee, and is usually still out with Nova when I leave his house in the evening.
“I've just got a feeling is all, so I’ll be sticking to this one like glue until I don't,” he says, gesturing to Nova and shrugging his shoulders.
“What do you mean? Has something happened?” I don't know if I should admit it or not but it makes me a little nervous knowing that something is throwing Ace off. My Dad always said to trust your gut instincts and they haven't let me down yet, so I'll be keeping an eye out for anything out of place.
“Don't try to scare her, Ace. Nothing has happened. He's just a little worked up over this job they have coming up. He doesn't like leaving for long periods,” Nova says. “I’ve tried everything under the sun to get him to go to his place but he won't budge. He refused to go home the other night and said he felt someone was watching us so he stayed over.”
“He stayed over,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows at her.
“I'm right here,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“Hush now. Nova, tell me everything. Does he snore? Is he a big snorer?” I say winking at her, bringing my hands up in front of me to gauge size.
“Oh my gods Charlie, he slept on the couch.” Her voice an octave higher as she starts to turn a nice shade of red while Ace smirks sitting at his usual stool to the side of the display cabinet.
The bell of the door opening causes us all to turn around and we’re greeted by the friendly face of Ashley, Nova's part time worker. She gives a small wave before heading out the back to put her things away.
“Hey, do you guys know anything about Porter that I might not know?” Instantly both Nova and Ace are looking at each other and it's not a cute, fun stare. It's the stare of secrets and I hate being the only person in the room who doesn't know something. Squinting my eyes, I point at both of them and using my best stern voice say, “Tell me.”
“Wait a minute now, what exactly is going on? Why would you ask that to begin with?” says Ace, as he stands up from his stool and moves closer to me.
Huffing and crossing my arms in front of my chest, I'm not exactly over the moon to confess my feelings to Nova and Ace. I know we're all friends but talking about feelings, real feelings, is a little bit foreign to me. I'm an expert at brushing things over when out in public, preferring to be vulnerable when alone or with someone like Mila who's like my sister. I didn't expect to be putting them out there for these two, in the middle of the day, in a coffee shop, where there are people just out of earshot eating their lunch.
“I've been a little down over the whole Porter thing,” I sigh. “I felt there was something there and it's hard to accept he just doesn't want me.”
Taking a deep breath I try to keep my emotions in check. “Mila said she would tell me a secret about him if I got her corn chips. She didn't need to bribe me, I would have gotten them for her regardless but it made her smile. I just can’t figure out what sort of secret it is. I’m curious is all.”
They look at each other again and I swear Nova winces a little.
“Oh my gods, he has a family and I'm the other woman!” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
“What? No. Is that what you heard?” Ace says.
“Does he have three ball sacks and is self-conscious about it? I know he doesn't have kids and it's not like he has many hobbies. He's at the bar all the time. I just can't figure out what the worst case scenario for me would be. How much can I overlook and still want him?”
Feeling a bit glum, these are the moments I wish my mum was still around so I could ask her advice. My dad did the best job he could with me and my brothers, but I always wondered what it would be like to have that person who loves you like only a mother can. I often wonder if I would have been any different if she had been in my life or if I always would have turned out like this. For as long as I can remember my dad has said I have her spirit and tenacity, but could I have been a softer version of myself if I had a strong female figure to raise me?
“How about we follow you back to the house and see what the big secret is that Mila is going to tell you. I'm sure it's nothing bad,” Ace says, giving my shoulder a pat, a small frown appearing when he looks at Nova.
△△△
Arriving at Ace's house with more food than I can eat by myself, I park by the front door and move to start lugging the bags of corn chips inside when Dante comes out to help me.
“What's everyone doing back here?” he asks, looking at Ace and Nova as they get out of his truck. With all of us taking two bags each we manage to bring all of the food inside in one go and start putting it away.
“Mila told Charlie she would tell her a secret about Porter if she got her corn chips, and we want to know what the secret is,” says Ace, who is now looking a little sheepish. Immediately Dante raises his eyebrows and looks at me and then back at them.
“Oh.”
Stepping toward him, I can't help but lower my voice and say, “What do you mean, oh . Does everyone know this secret about the guy I like but me? He better be a bloody astronaut who rescues babies on the weekends because I'm seriously peeved that you all know something about him and haven't said anything for over SIX MONTHS!” I practically screech at them. At least they all have the decency to look a little uncomfortable.
The soft tread on the staircase reveals a sleepy looking Mila, rubbing her eyes as she makes her way into the kitchen. Dante quickly walks over to her, taking his jumper off and putting it over her head attempting to pick her up to carry her before she swats him away.
“Stop it, I feel okay at the moment. Maybe the medications are finally working?” She says looking up at him hopefully, “Maybe the worst is over?”
Ignoring the rest of us she walks straight to the mountain of corn chips piled on the kitchen bench and wiggles her fingers in excitement. I swear I hear her mumble gimmie as she tears a packet open and starts eating them. Loud groans of satisfaction surround us as she dips each chip in sour cream before taking a bite.
“This is better than sex,” she sighs, the look of pure desire on her face as she lovingly stares at the corn triangle coated in so much processed cheese flavour it's almost a fluorescent orange. At this admission, Dante chokes on the coffee he was sipping, Ace, taking significant pleasure in whacking him on the back a couple of times.
“I need focus here people. Mila, I love you and I don't want to break up this intense affair you're having at the moment but I need to know the thing about Porter, preferably before you've run away with that packet of corn chips to start your new life together.”
I feel so needy all of a sudden. Is this the moment reality comes crashing down for me and I'm reminded why I don't do feelings .
“This lot have built up, who knows how many different scenarios in my head. I was curious before but now I’m just annoyed.” I say, waving my hands in the air,
“Sunshine,” Dante growls, as he moves to stand behind her, pulling her against him. It's a move where I'm not sure if he's angry that she's spilling secrets or if he's worried she's actually going to run away with the corn chips but regardless, I'm not having it.
“Listen here big guy, this is happening okay. Whatever this secret is, I can handle it and she has promised to tell me or else I'm not getting her thick socks when she wants them, so she h—”
“He's in the Mafia. Well, he was in the mafia,” Mila says, her focus still on what she's eating.
“Oh is that all … HE'S JUST IN THE MAFIA!” Processing this new information, I can feel the panic rising over what this means and how it changes everything.
“He was in the mafia. He’s not anymore, at least I don’t think he is. I think it’s okay for him to want to start again. Everyone deserves a fresh start,” she says, looking up at Dante. They share a secret conversation as he gazes down at her, pure love and devotion in his eyes.
“Wait, he was in the mafia? So he left it? He doesn’t act like the mafia guys I know so when you put it like that, I guess that's fine. My friend’s in the mafia so I'll see if he knows him.”
The relief is overwhelming as I realise this is something I can handle, something I can work with.
“You know someone in the mafia?” Dante growls.
“He’s just a friend, not a big deal,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. He has a tendency to make a big deal of things, but my friendship with Dimi is not the issue here.
It's not exactly ideal for Porter to be in? was in? associated? or whatever he is with the mafia, especially with the amount of wounds I've had to fix on Dimi, but it's also comforting to know that it's only this .
He's not an exotic animal smuggler or something like that where I would have no idea how to navigate it. He's just in the mafia.
I wonder which one?
“He's got a nickname and everything,” Mila says, as she continues to eat her chips.
“Baby, please stop,” Dante groans.
“What's the name again, his nickname? The babymaker? The widow destroyer?” she says nonchalantly, pulling a second tub of sour cream toward her and patting the lid of it like a puppy, content in knowing she has another.
Rubbing his hand across his face, he looks to the ceiling before facing me, still holding Mila in his arms.
“He's Vdovets . The Widowmaker. And he's gonna kill me for telling you that,” Dante groans.
“Stop being dramatic, he's not going to kill anyone. It's fine, really it's fine. I won’t say a thing to him now or maybe ever. We're not together, remember. He doesn't want me like that,” I murmur, as I lay my head on the cool bench top.
“You know what you should do to get his attention,” Ace says, perking up at what he's about to say. “You need to go on a date at the bar, show him that if he's not going to make a move then you're going to find someone who will. You know, pussy power and all that.”
“Ace, for the love of all the gods, please stop watching Sex and the City when you stay over,” Nova whines, crossing the room to stand next to him, letting him pull her into a hug.
I don't know if he's being serious or not but this could be the best worst idea in the making. I feel like Ace saying this is a sign from the universe that I should push Porter a little bit, meet up with some random person on a date? He said I should, after all.