21
Charlotte
Two weeks later…
My mother stirs a pot of chicken soup over the stove while my father awkwardly holds a screwdriver at an angle, trying to fasten the latch inside the cabinet. “I told you, that’s not how to fix it,” says my mother, looking at me but speaking to him. She wants to roll her eyes. I can feel it.
“Honey, I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s what you always say.” This time, she rolls her eyes.
My father hits his head on the shelf, trying to glower at her.
I wonder if this is still a good time to tell them about the baby. My knee bounces as I contemplate postponing the conversation another week, but I’ve already held it off for too long. I can’t hide it anymore. Caleb is coming to Cedar Brook Falls this weekend.
“Mom, Dad, we need to talk.”
My mother looks at me, and her eyes roam across my face. I bite my lip and swallow a lump in my throat .
“You better sit down, dear,” my mom says to my father. “This sounds important.”
My father peeks from behind the open cabinet door and catches my mother’s raised eyebrows. He puts the screwdriver down and pulls up a chair at the kitchen table next to her. They both stare at me.
I’m transported to my bedroom eleven years ago, and wring my hands together. Stop it. It’s not the same thing.
Right.
This is worse.
I close my eyes and swallow again.
“What is it, Charlotte? Out with it now. You’re scaring me. Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Is Charlie sick?”
“No, he’s fine.”
“Well, then it can’t be that bad.”
I scoff and shake my head. Here goes nothing.
“Mom, Dad.” I suck in a deep breath and exhale loudly. “I’m pregnant.”
Closing my eyes, I wait for their response.
But I only hear the pounding of my heart in my chest. I take a shaky breath and open my eyes. My mother’s mouth hangs slightly open while my father’s is so wide he could fit his fist in it. I close my eyes, my heart hurting that I caused this reaction .
“What?” my mother whispers.
“I’m pregnant,” I say again. Louder this time. They may need to hear it a few more times before it sinks in. It took me weeks to believe it.
“How?” my mother asks. “Who… oh my gosh, it’s Jason’s baby, isn’t it? Are you two back together?”
“What? No.” I shake my head and swallow the bile that statement produced in the pit of my stomach. “It’s not Jason’s baby.”
“Then whose baby is it?” my father asks. I can’t read his face. I can’t tell if he’s angry or disappointed. I am thirty years old, and I still hate the feeling of disappointing my parents.
“His name is Caleb Consuelos, and he lives in Queens. I met him while on vacation in St. Kitts.”
My father leans back in his chair while my mother puts a hand to her heart. “A stranger? You slept with a stranger?”
Oh, God. “I’m a grown woman. I can sleep with whomever I wish.”
My mother presses her lips together and crosses her arms.
“I thought,” starts my father, and wets his dry lips. “I thought you couldn’t get pregnant again. That’s what you told us.”
“I really thought I couldn’t. It should have been nearly impossible. ”
My father presses his lips together while my mom stares down at the tablecloth. Several minutes go by before either of them moves.
Then, my mother’s eyes soften, and she inhales sharply. “Well, we should be grateful that you can have another.”
I narrow my eyes as I stare at my mother. “Really? Are you okay with this?”
She exhales loudly. “Well, you’re not a child, Charlotte. You’re thirty years old. I would have preferred that you settled down with a good man before having another baby, but… Charlie is a blessing and this child will be, too.”
My eyes water, and I close them before any tears could fall. Darn pregnancy hormones. My lip trembles and my mother pulls me into her arms. “Don’t cry, Charlotte. Everything is going to be fine.”
“I know,” I say. “I just hate disappointing you both.”
“We’re not disappointed,” says my father. “Shocked, yes. But not disappointed. Your mother’s right. Charlie is the best thing that happened to this family. This new baby will only make us stronger.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I know it won’t be easy dealing with the gossip in town.”
“Hush, now,” my mother waves me off. “I’d like to see them try. I’ll teach them a thing or two about turning gossip into grace. This baby is our little miracle. ”
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs until they feel like they’ll explode. “I’m so glad you feel this way because Caleb is coming on Friday.”
“Here? At Cedar Brook Falls.”
I nod.
“Mmm. He’s coming all the way from the city to Cedar Brook Falls?”
“We’ve been talking a lot on the phone lately and I’ve convinced him it’s worth a visit. Do you mind watching Charlie while I show him around?”
“Of course, we’ll watch Charlie,” says my father. “I’ve got some tomato seeds that need harvesting. He can help.”
“Where’s Caleb staying?” my mother asks.
“At Mrs. Cook’s Bed and breakfast. I recommended it.”
“I thought those downtown types preferred big hotel chains.”
“Well, we don’t have any of those here.”
“No, we don’t. And proud of it, too.”
“Have you two discussed if Caleb will be a part of the baby’s life?” my father asks.
I nod. “We’re taking it slowly. We still have some time left to work it out.”
My mother’s face scrunches. “I don’t know. I don’t trust them, New Yorkers.”
“Mom, we’re New Yorkers. ”
“You know what I mean.” She shrugs. “It’s a good thing Jason isn’t around. That could be awfully awkward if he was in town.”
My back stiffens at the mention of my ex’s name. It’s a visceral reaction I can hardly control. “Why would it be awkward?”
“Honey, do you really think Jason would care to meet this man?”
“I don’t really care what Jason thinks.”
“You don’t mean that.”
When Jason left, my mother was just as angry and devastated as I was. I find it strange that she’s considering his feelings now.
“I couldn’t care less if Jason is in town or not. It just so happens that I prefer when he’s not.”
“When are you going to tell Charlie that Jason’s his father?”
“Shh,” I glance out the backdoor, but Charlie is piling rocks near the end of the yard. “I’ll tell him when it’s the right time. Jason’s only now, after eleven years, taken an interest in his son. I’ve waited this long. He can wait a little bit longer. What if Jason doesn’t come back?”
My mother crosses her arms again and purses her lips. “He will. Especially now that there’s another man in your life.”
*
On my way into town Friday evening, I drive by the Cedar Brook Mill. It’s just after six and most employees are walking back to their cars. Some live close enough to walk home on a clear evening like this one. My father used to work at the Mill, like almost all the men in this town at some point in their lives. Billy, one of our high school friends, is the owner’s son, but he hasn’t taken much interest in the Mill. He's too busy dating Debbie, the pretty waitress at McDougal’s Pub.
Mmm . Maybe it wasn’t the best idea asking Caleb to meet me here for a drink. I shake my head, dismissing the idea. Caleb is free to check out whomever he wants to check out. It’s none of my business.
“Hey Charlotte,” Debbie greets me when I walk in. “Is Charlie joining you?”
“No, I’m meeting a friend.”
“Okay, take whichever table you like. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
She winks and returns to the bar, shouting her previous order to the bartender.
As I walk toward the table, I catch the eye of a few patrons and hear whispers behind my back.
Since telling my parents, I’ve stopped trying to hide my bump.
You’d think I’d be used to the whispers by now, but they still bother me. I feel their curiosity, their judgement, and their pity. I roll it up into a ball and toss it over my shoulder.
I sit with my back straight in the booth, even though my lower back is killing me, but I won’t slouch, not while their eyes are still on me.
Everyone knows, or at least suspects, who Charlie’s father is, but this pregnancy has been making the gossip rounds in all the neighborhood kitchens and porches.
When Caleb walks into the bar, the room quiets down. Even Debbie stops to stare. He is impeccably dressed, wearing a fine tailored light gray suit, a crisp baby blue shirt underneath, and brown leather shoes to match his belt. He looks as though he stepped off a high-fashion runway. My stomach flutters and I rub my bump instinctively. The baby isn’t kicking yet, but there’s movement, especially at night when I lay down or if my heart starts racing. Obviously, the latter caused the latest flutters.
He spots me and walks over. “Hi,” he says, and I stand up to give him a quick hug. “You look great.”
I look down at the empire-cut pink dress I bought when I was pregnant with Charlie. Thank God I kept it. I rarely throw anything out unless it’s ripped or stained.
“Thanks. You, too. Except…”
He takes off his suit jacket and looks down. The shirt is tapered along his abs, accentuating the V of his torso .
“What? Is it the gray suit? Is the color off-putting? The stylist tried to warn me.”
I laugh. “It’s not the color. It’s the whole suit thing.”
He looks around and I imagine he finally calculates the amount of polyester, rayon, and flannel all in one place. “I don’t see the problem.”
“You don’t, do you?” I tease.
He shakes his head, smiling devilishly.
“Have you eaten?” I ask.
“No. I came straight from work. Are you hungry?”
“I can eat.”
“Will we have enough time before the banks close?”
“They close at five. You want to visit a bank?”
“Yes. It’s one thing I’d like to do before I leave on Sunday. I’d like to open an account.”
Caleb
“Here?,” she asks. “In Cedar Brook Falls? Why?”
“Well, it’ll be easier to have a joint account for you to withdraw from and I can transfer large amounts of money without the hassle of daily limits.”
Her face scrunches up, and she runs her hand through her soft, wavy brown hair. It looks shinier than I remember. Perhaps it’s the lighting or perhaps pregnancy hormones have something to do with it. It’s lovely, nonetheless.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“We talked about this, Charlotte. You agreed I can help financially, and we settled on $5,000 a month. But this doesn’t include any extra expenses you may need. This will be easier for me and for you. Also, I need your help in finding a place to rent or buy.”
“I still don’t understand why you can’t just stay at the Bed and breakfast or the motel when you visit. I’m sure it won’t be often with your schedule.”
“Are you predicting or projecting my availability?”
“Neither. I guess I’m just assuming.”
“I don’t like motels. And I want to leave a few things like clothes and a toothbrush, so I don’t need to pack every time I want to come visit. Besides, I checked the property values in this place, and they’ve remained stable over the past ten years. It won’t be a bad investment to buy.”
The server interrupts us with a smile and a pop of her gum. “What can I get you, Wall Street?”
I smile sheepishly and lift my tie. “I should have nixed the tie at least, huh?”
The server smirks. “So, what’ll it be? Scotch? Bourbon? I know the type.”
“Do you get many Wall Street types around here? ”
She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. “No. And I hope we never do.”
“Debbie, that was uncalled for,” says Charlotte. “You should apologize.” She says it in the most teacher-like voice and Debbie, unsurprisingly, rolls her eyes and mutters a ‘Sorry’ between her pursed lips.
“He’ll have a Jack Daniels, neat, and I’ll have sparkling water.”
Debbie leaves without so much as a backward glance in our direction.
Impressed that she remembered my drink, I nod my approval. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, tilting her head and looking down at my clothes. “And you better pack some T-shirts and jeans and leave those suits at your apartment in Queens. You’ll need more casual outfits if you plan on spending any time in this town.”
“Yeah. I’ll need to pack some denim and flannel.”
“It’s not all like that. We can be fashionable too, on special occasions, just not daily. We pride ourselves in comfort over consumerism.”
“Wool and linen are quite comfortable. I’ll stick with those.”
Her eyes smile at me, despite her tight mouth. I know she wants to laugh or smack me, or both, so I grab her hand and rub my thumb over it .
She stares at our joined hands, and I stop. It felt natural to hold her that way, but maybe she’s not comfortable with that anymore. I pull my hand away.
Debbie returns with my drink and Charlotte’s water, sets it on the table and leaves.
“Did I say something to offend her?”
Charlotte takes a long deep breath. “No. But I guess she suspects you’re the father and being the city type, won’t be taking any responsibility for it.”
“Well, that’s quite the assumption.”
“We do a lot of that around here.”
I lean back. “So, other than warning me about my clothes and judgmental waitresses,” I say with a smile. “Is there anything else I should know about Cedar Brook Falls?”
“Yes. A lot. But you’ll have to experience it, otherwise, you won’t understand the fabric of the town.”
I take a sip of my drink and so does she. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we established it’s denim and flannel.”
She smacks my thigh and my body tightens.
Fuck .
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have done that. ‘Keep your hands to yourself’, I tell my students.”
“Yeah.” Except, I don’t want her to keep her hands to herself. I imagine those fingers running up my thigh and tightening around my —
“Sunset Ridge.”
“Pardon?”
Did she say ridge?
She finishes her water in one large swig, and swallows. Why is that so erotic?
“That’s where you’ll find some nice places to rent. Usually, they’re booked by late summer because they’re by the falls, but you shouldn’t have a problem this time of year.”
“Will you take me to see them?”
“We can go tomorrow.”
“Where’s Charlie?”
“He’s at my parent’s house.”
“Do they babysit often?”
“Not as often as they’d like. If Sage is home, she’ll watch him. But she’s on a date tonight, so I called my parents.”
“Charlie seems like a good kid.”
“He is.”
I look at her empty glass and finish my drink. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I thought you hadn’t eaten yet.” She looks around the room and her eyes harden. I glance around, too, and notice several people quickly turn away. “Are they staring at us?”
“Yeah. ”
“Is it because I’m not from around here or because I’m with you?”
She presses her lips together and narrows her eyes at someone. Then she inhales sharply and sighs. “I do love living here, but sometimes I’m reminded that small towns have their drawbacks.”
“What are those?”
“There’s just not enough entertainment to keep busybodies satisfied.”
She flips her hair to one side, blocking her face from their view. Her fingers pick at the paper napkin beneath her finished drink.
I cover her hand with mine. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“But you haven’t ordered yet?”
“I’m sure Mrs. Cook can whip something up for us.”
She smiles. “She would probably love that, too. All right, let’s go.”
She pulls out her wallet, but I wave her hand away. “While I’m here, you won’t be needing that.”
She looks away but her cheeks round into a semblance of a smile, and, at the small approval, my chest puffs out a little.
I leave enough for our drinks and a generous tip, although the server didn’t exactly deserve it. But I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt that she’s having a bad day. So was I until I saw Charlotte again .
Teoscar hasn’t returned my calls, and while Davina isn’t worried, the other owners are getting jittery. I reminded them it’s all part of the dance with players and their agents.
My car is parked right outside the restaurant. Convenient parking is one thing I enjoy most about small towns. There’s always a parking spot nearby.
I open the car door for Charlotte, and she lets out a whistle. “Nice car. Is it new?”
“Yeah, the latest model.”
“I hadn’t realized they released those yet. How did you score an early edition?”
“I have some connections.”
“I’m thinking you have more than some.”
I play squash with the owner of the dealership. He personally saw that I received one as soon as it became available.
I turn on my car’s GPS and type in the address of the Bed and breakfast.
“Oh, it’s not too far from here,” says Charlotte. “I’ll show you.”
Charlotte directs me to Mrs. Cook’s place, and I park the car in the driveway. It’s nearly seven, and there are two white vans parked near the back door.
“That’s strange. I was told I’d be the only guest this weekend. ”
“Those trucks belong to Matt and Don. They’re plumbers. I wonder what they’re doing here.”
“Maybe she’s got a leaky faucet.”
I knock on the front door and an older woman in dyed red hair, styled in a 60s bouffant, with blue eye shadow, opens the door. “Who are you?”
“I’m Caleb Consuelos. I called you last week to reserve a room here for the weekend. You said you had a vacancy. Is there a problem?”
“Yes, darling, there is. I woke up to a flood on my main floor and had no idea where the water was coming from.”
“It’s rained a lot over the last few days,” says Charlotte.
“I know, sweetie, but that’s not it. At least that’s what Don says. But his wife is always saying how he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so who knows? That’s why I called Matt to come by, too. If Don can’t figure it out, Matty will. His wife doesn’t talk half as bad about him.”
“When would be a good time to come back?” I ask.
She looks over her shoulder at Matt and Don, scratching their heads while staring at the soggy mess of tablecloths and towels on the floor.
She shrugs. “Monday, maybe.”
“Monday? ”
“I’m sorry, darling, but this is gonna be a big clean-up job.”
“Where do you expect me to stay?”
“There’s Cedar Brook Motel just by the freeway. They always have room there.”
I recall the neon sign on the turnoff and cringe at the thought.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cook. I’ll be sure he gets there. You take care, now.”
Charlotte pulls me away from the door, and I follow, muttering my disappointment. I really do hate motel rooms.
“Tell me the motel has been renovated, and it looks worse on the outside than it does on the inside.”
“Yes. But it’s the other way around.”
“ Fuck me .”
She smiles when we reach my car. “I’m not taking you to a motel. You’re coming back to my place.”
I perk up at this suggestion. “Are you serious? Don’t be cruel, Charlotte.”
She nods. “If you don’t mind the couch, I’m sure Sage will be fine with it.”
“I don’t mind the couch. I love the couch. I’m excited about the couch.”
She’s still laughing at my weak joke, and I love that I amuse her like that. I usually crank up the smooth charm for women, but with Charlotte, I think she prefers to laugh.
I follow her directions back into town and around the large water fountain in the middle. “Turn right here,” she says.
I drive through the neighborhood. The homes are older but well maintained, with a fresh coat of paint and trimmed front yards. I turn right again when Charlotte points at a large oak tree. “It’s the red bricked one.”
The house, I’d estimate, is probably no more than sixteen hundred square feet. It’s a bungalow with a big yard, which is nice. Like many other homes, there’s a porch with a swing out front. There are also two big planters outside the door, and a bike leaning against the side wall.
“This is it,” she says when I turn off the car.
“It’s nice.”
We walk up to the front door, and she jingles the key in the lock before the door opens. “It’s been stuck like this for a while, but I haven’t had a chance to fix it yet.”
I nod, making a note to take care of it in the morning.
There’s a living room immediately to the right and not much of a foyer since the kitchen is open to the living room and front entrance. There’s a hallway to the left, which I assume leads to the bedrooms. The furniture is small, but modern. The colors are bright and cheerful and there are several plants, pillows, gemstones, and colorful vases lying around. “Your place is really nice.”
“Thanks. You can leave your bag in my bedroom. It’s the last one on the right.”
The wood floors creak beneath my shoes as I walk to her bedroom door. The room is quite small, with barely enough room for a double bed and a desk. My closet in my apartment on Seaver is larger than her bedroom. But like the rest of the house, it’s neat, cheerful, and modern. I like it. It feels cozy.
“Did you find it okay?”
I drop my bag next to the door and walk back to the kitchen. “Yeah. All good.”
Charlotte is buttering two slices of bread and has tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, and smoked ham on the counter. “Are you making me a sandwich?”
She smirks at the ingredients. “Yup. Are you okay with ham?”
“Sure. But you don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t know about you, but I need to eat every couple of hours now, so it’s not just for you.”
I smile, and my gaze drops to her midsection. The bump is barely noticeable in that pink babydoll dress she’s wearing. My fingertips tingle at the memory of caressing her stomach… and lower.
“When do you have to pick up Charlie?” I ask, distracting myself from that thought .
“I wasn’t sure how late I would be, so I asked Sage to pick him up for me after work. They should be home soon.”
She’s nearly finished making the sandwiches and I realize I’ve just sat here like a prima donna . “Do you mind if I go in your fridge to get us some drinks?”
“Not at all. The cups are in the cabinet over there.” She points to a cupboard next to the fridge.
I grab two glasses, along with a couple of sodas from the fridge, and take them to the wooden kitchen table. The tabletop has a few scratches, but they look like they’ve been buffed out and are smooth to the touch.
“Bon appétit,” she says before taking a bite. I take one too, but my gaze stays fixed on her face as she closes her eyes and moans softly. “I was so hungry.”
“How do you feel?”
“Pretty good now. The nausea in the beginning was the worst. But I’m in what they call the golden stage. The worst of the sickness is gone, and I’m not too heavy to walk comfortably like in the last trimester, so I’m doing pretty good.”
“That’s great to hear. You look good, too.”
She smiles at me and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “Thanks,” she says through a mouthful of bread and cheese. It should be off-putting, but her eyes shine and she looks adorable .
She talks a bit more about the town and what it was like growing up in Cedar Brook Falls. It sounds like a good place to raise a family. Although I could never imagine myself living here, I don’t mind the thought of my child being raised in a small town.
I was just about to ask her about the name of the school she teaches at when the front door opens, and Charlie runs inside. “Hey Mom!” He stops short at the entrance and stares at me. “Oh, hey.”
“Hi Charlie. Great to see you again.” I stand and walk over to shake his hand. A taller woman with long curly hair walks up from the driveway and blinks rapidly when she sees me. “You must be Caleb.”
“And you must be Sage.”
We shake hands, and she smiles widely. “Now, I completely get it.”
“Get what?”
“Never mind,” says Charlotte behind me.
But Sage leans forward. “I get why she lost her head in St. Kitts. With a smile like that, I would have lost my virginity.”
“Sage!”
Sage puts her hands over Charlie’s ears, but he tears himself away. “I’m eleven now, Mom!” He kicks off his shoes and storms to his room.
“Sorry,” says Sage. “But he’s getting big and probably has heard worse things from his friends. ”
“I know,” says Charlotte. “I guess I just don’t see him like that.”
“I think it’s sweet that you’re trying to keep his innocence,” I say.
“You do?” asks Sage, her head tilted.
“Yeah. I probably would act upset, just like Charlie, but deep down, I’d be happy that someone cared enough to protect me. Even if he doesn’t recognize the sentiment yet, he will when he gets older.”
Sage smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “I like this one.”
Charlotte’s face reddens and I wonder if she’s embarrassed that Sage would assume I’d need her approval. But I can’t deny the statement was an ego boost.
“Are you staying at the motel this weekend?” asks Sage.
“Ah, no,” Charlotte interjects. “He had a room with Mrs. Cook, but her place flooded. I offered him the couch. It’s only for a couple of nights.”
Sage smiles like the Cheshire Cat. “I don’t think that’s very nice of you, Charlotte. The couch isn’t very comfortable at all and there’s plenty of room in that big bed or yours.”
“Oh, I would never presume to share her bed.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Maybe you should.” Waving her fingers, she smiles. “Goodnight, you two. ”
When Sage closes her bedroom door behind her, I turn to Charlotte. Her cheeks are even brighter now, but her freckles shine through.
She clears her throat. “I’ve got to check on Charlie. You can use the bathroom first.”
“Okay.”
She walks away and I wait until she’s in Charlie’s room before unpacking my bag.
There’s only one sink and just enough counter space to place my shaving kit. I’ve never shared a bathroom in my life. I brush my teeth quickly and resist the urge to check my stocks while scrolling my phone as I would probably have done at home.
When I open the bathroom door, I run into Charlotte and smile. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
She laughs and nods. “We do.”
But she doesn’t move out of the way, and neither do I. The house is quiet, and I swear I can hear her heartbeat. Or is that mine ?
My fingers, by their own accord, move closer to her face until I’m tipping her head back and lowering my mouth slowly toward her.
I take my time, giving her seconds, if not minutes, to push me away or say something that tells me she doesn’t want this. Instead, she closes her eyes and parts her lips .
I inhale sharply before lowering my lips to hers and tasting what feels like home. My muscles loosen, and my chest lightens as my tongue explores her mouth. I no longer sip at her lips as my body craves more. More of what it remembers, more of what it wants.
I want her .
I shoot my shot and walk her backwards toward her room, but just as we stumble into her bedroom, Charlie opens his door.
“Mom?”
Charlotte breaks free from my arms and rushes past me to her son. “Yes, Charlie?”
He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Can you lie down with me for a bit?”
Charlotte nods and ushers Charlie back inside his room. She looks over her shoulder and her eyes are like two embers in a fire.
“Good night,” she mouths and closes the door behind her.
My body wants to follow, but my head knows I can’t.
I rub both hands over my face and wonder how I got in this deep.