24
Charlotte
A yellow-breasted robin flies into the wooden birdhouse my father built when I was a kid and nibbles on the seeds. It flies away when Charlie cheers loudly after my dad hands him a glove.
He runs up to me, punching inside the leather. “Look, Mom. Grandpa fixed it. He says it’s as good as new.”
I smile and look up at my father. “Thanks, Dad.” Charlie runs to the garage to grab a ball, my father watching him. “He’ll need a new glove by the end of summer. Those strings will only hold for so long.”
“I know. I’ll take care of it.”
Charlie returns with a ball in hand and my father walks back to the middle of the yard to play catch with him.
“Has he called?” My mother asks, pouring two glasses of lemonade, then setting the pitcher on the glass patio table.
“Who?”
She pouts, annoyed by my response. “You know who. ”
I do. But I’m trying to avoid the question. “No. But it’s only been a week.”
“It’s been nearly two weeks. Not even a text?”
“He’s busy, Mom.”
She raises an eyebrow, but otherwise says nothing. She takes a sip of her drink while we watch Charlie play.
“You know, Jason’s been in town a lot lately.”
“I know.”
“He’s even come by the house a few times.”
“He comes to drop off Charlie.”
“That’s not true. He’s come by to see us even when Charlie’s not here.”
“He has?”
She nods and sips her drink.
“Are you going to elaborate, or do you enjoy keeping me in suspense?”
“Don’t be snippy, dear.”
“Mom,” I warn. “What do you and Jason talk about?”
“He mostly asks about Charlie. But he’s also asked about you.”
“And what have you told him?”
“That you are all by yourself and taking care of that child all on your own.”
“Good. Except, I’m not by myself. I have you and my friends.”
“Yes. But it’s not the same thing, Charlotte. ”
“It’s more than others have, and more than enough for me.”
She sighs. “You put on this brave front, but I know it’s difficult. You should ask Jason for help. He seems very interested in being there for you right now. I think he’s interested in getting back together. You should really think about giving that a try.”
I turn to look her in the eye. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. Why not?”
“Because he bailed on me when I needed him the most. He wasn’t here when Charlie was a baby, or a screaming toddler, or even a rambunctious child. Now that he’s more self-sufficient, he’s back. I don’t think so.”
“Don’t look at it that way. The past is the past. Jason’s here now. And well, that other man isn’t. He won’t be here for you. He’s not like us.”
My mind wanders as I watch Charlie toss the ball to my father. He pulls his elbow back and launches it at him.
Is it me? Do men find me attractive enough to sleep with but not enough to stick around for? It’s hard not to take it personally.
“I don’t know, Mom. It’s a lot right now, and yes, Jason is here now, but what’s his end goal? He hasn’t said anything to me. I’ve got Charlie to worry about, and now a new baby on the way. They’re my priority.” I rub my palm over my stomach. I’m in full-on maternity wear right now. Even though it’s just my belly that has grown, it is about the size of a soccer ball.
“I just don’t know how a smart, beautiful, and caring woman like you ends up with two children and no husband.”
I close my eyes and tighten my fingers around the humid glass. Her pity angers me because it echoes my earlier self-doubt, but hearing it from her motivates me more than anything I could have said to myself. “I don’t need a husband. I’ve done a great job with Charlie, and I’ll do the same for this little one.”
My mother reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “You’re doing great, honey.”
I nod, finally something we both agree on.
“But…”
I groan.
“Hear me out. If Jason wants to help, I wouldn’t turn him down. Think about it.”
“Fine. I’ll think about it.” Finishing my lemonade, I push off the patio chair. “I’ve got to run. Mrs. Jackson’s waiting for me.”
“Say 'hi' for me.”
“I will.”
The Jacksons live down the street from my parent’s house, but I take the car since I need to run errands after my tutoring session with Jacob .
The front door is open as usual, and I walk right in. “Hello! It’s Charlotte. Anybody home?”
Of course, there is, but it’s our usual routine.
Right on cue, Mrs. Jackson walks into the foyer, wearing a pink tracksuit. “Charlotte, honey. Come in, come in. It’s great to see you.”
“You, too. Is Jacob ready?”
“He is. He’s just grabbing his math book. Take a seat at the kitchen table. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine. I was just at my parent’s house having some lemonade.”
“Oh, how is your mother?”
“She’s good.”
Mrs. Jackson sits down beside me and pats my hand. “How are you, honey?” Her red lipstick clashes with her outfit, but it’s the only color she wears.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
She tilts her head. “We haven’t seen your boyfriend around town in a while. Is everything okay?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, looking down the hall for Jacob. I get a sense that perhaps Mrs. Jackson told him to take his time coming to the kitchen.
She pats my hand again. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, honey. You have your parents and all of us to look out for you and the baby. Jacob can use a few extra lessons. I know you’re doing your best, but that boy’s got a thick skull. ”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jackson.” Her words are meant to be kind, but the pity behind the words angers me. “He’s a smart kid. Distracted, but smart.”
“That’s what I say,” she nods.
Jacob finally comes down the hallway, textbook and pencil in hand. I sigh in relief. “Don’t you worry, Charlotte. Ignore them negative Nellies and go about your business.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Jackson. I will.”
Pleased with her efforts, Mrs. Jackson pats her son’s cheek and leaves us to work.
“Hi, Ms. Tanner.”
“Hello, Jacob. What are we working on today?”
“Algebra.”
“Well, you’re in luck because that’s my favorite subject.”
“You say that every week.” He smiles and opens his textbook to chapter five.
*
A few hours later, I’m walking around a second-hand store when my phone rings. It’s Caleb. My heart races as I wonder about the coincidence of my mother mentioning him the same day he calls me.
“Hello?”
“Charlotte, it’s Caleb. ”
“Yes, I know. How are you?”
“Fine. How about you?”
“Uh… good.” It’s awkward, I don’t know why. It’s never been that way between us. But I’m a little annoyed that he hasn’t called, and well, I guess I haven’t, either. “How’s work?”
“Busy.”
“Yeah me, too.”
I look around the store, trying to think of something to break the silence.
“What are you doing?” he asks first.
“Me? I, uh, I’m browsing at a thrift store.”
“Clothing shopping?”
“No. Not really. I threw out Charlie’s crib and other baby stuff, so I’m looking around for some items. How about you? What are you up to?”
He doesn’t respond, and I worry the line dropped. “Hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
I stop walking through the aisle and listen to his breathing on the other end.
“Is everything okay, Caleb?”
There’s a muffled sound, and then, “You haven’t called,” he says.
I look up at the ceiling. “You haven’t, either.”
“Fair enough. ”
I push my hair behind my ear. My face and palms are sweating. It’s never been this difficult to talk to him, even when I was worried about looking like an idiot in St. Kitts. “Have you—”
“Are you—”
I smile. “You go first.”
“Are you free this weekend?”
“Me? Well, it depends on what you mean by free. I have some errands to run, and I promised Charlie we’d throw the ball around in the back, but that trip to St. Tropez isn’t until next weekend.”
I can’t see his face, but I picture him smiling, and I smile, too. “Can I come see you?” he asks.
My heart speeds up, and I push my hair off my neck. “Well, I’ll have to ask Sage if the couch is free, but, yeah, I’d like that.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. And Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
I nearly drop the phone. It’s a simple apology, one perhaps made to be polite, but for someone who has never received an apology before, it feels like he’s given me a million dollars. “Me, too,” I say, and have trouble swallowing around the lump in my throat.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you. ”
He hangs up, and I put my phone away in my purse. There’s a rocking chair next to me and I drop my butt into it.
It was just one apology, but my heart is beating like a drum.
I smile, thinking about seeing him again. I wonder how to explain everything to Charlie. He knows I’m expecting, but I haven’t told him who the father is, and I need to soon.
I’ll do it this weekend. I’ll tell him everything.
“Can I help you, Miss?” A junior employee stands in front of me with his arms crossed and his face blank.
I stand up. “I’ll take this rocking chair and the crib, please.”
He looks at the white crib. “What kind of car do you have?”
“Um, a compact sedan.”
“Yeah, this won’t fit in your trunk. I’ll have to take it apart, and you can put it together at home.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
It’ll be a fun project Charlie and I can do together. I pay for the items with the cashier while the other employee uses a drill to take the crib apart. He puts the pieces in a box and carries the crib to my car. “You’ll have to come back with a pick-up truck for the rocking chair. Or we charge $50 for delivery.”
“I’ll figure out a way to borrow a truck. Thanks. ”
Pulling up into my driveway, I roll my eyes when I see Jason’s car parked there. He’s not in the yard with Charlie. Instead, I find him lying on my couch watching TV. “Hey,” he says, not bothering to get up.
“What are you doing, Jason?”
His brow furrows. “What does it look like? I’m here to see Charlie.”
I look around. “Where is Charlie?”
He turns his head left and right, and I nearly laugh at the comical look on his face. “He was just here a minute ago.”
There’s a rhythmic thumping outside and I look out into the backyard through the backdoor window. Charlie’s throwing a tennis ball against the house. “Thanks for picking him up from my parent’s house.”
He stands from the couch. “It’s no problem. What were you doing?”
I drop a small box by the hallway entrance and stretch out my back. “I had some shopping to do, and before that I went to the Jacksons for my weekly tutoring lesson with Jacob.”
“You’re still tutoring?”
“It’s how things get paid around here.”
“I thought that your parents help you out.”
I scoff. “They help a lot with Charlie, but the rent and bills are my responsibility. And I take my responsibilities seriously. ”
“Is that some sort of jab at me?”
“It wasn’t, but if you took it that way, you only have to ask yourself why.”
I head into the kitchen to get started on dinner.
“You know, you act all high and mighty that you’re the responsible one, but I never asked for this.”
I turn on him. “And I did?”
“No, but you could have dealt with it differently. You knew it was going to be hard.”
My hand strangles the head of broccoli I pulled from the fridge. “Even after spending time with him, and seeing the kind of person he is, you can say that? Get out, Jason.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m saying you keep blaming other people for choices you make.”
“I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just angry, Jason, and it’ll take me some time to get over it.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away. “I—I just want us to figure this out together.”
“Why?”
“Because things are different than they were ten years ago. I’m ready for this now.”
I smile and shake my head. “I’m happy you’re ready, Jason. But we’re not something you pick up when you feel like it.”
“See. There you go, making me the bad guy. You always do that. ”
“Jason, I—”
His eyes look up, past me, and they widen momentarily before they quickly narrow into icy slits. “What the fuck? What’s he doing here?”
“Who?”
I turn, and the words stick to my throat when I see Caleb playing catch with Charlie outside. I count the hours in my head since I’ve spoken to him. It was one o’clock when we talked, and now it’s just past five. He must have driven here directly after speaking with me.
I’m still holding broccoli when Jason storms through the back door. Caleb has his hand on Charlie’s arm, correcting his pitch.
“Hey! Hey! Don’t touch him,” Jason shouts.
“I’m just showing him how to—”
“I said get your hands off of him.”
Caleb puts his hands up. “Easy, man. I was trying to help.”
“I know what you’re doing, and I don’t like it.”
“Jason!” I shout, throwing the vegetable on the counter. “Stop.”
But Jason stalks over to Caleb and pushes him back with both hands on his chest. He’s at least three inches shorter than Caleb, but I’ve seen Jason in enough playground fights to know he doesn’t back down. He doubles down to prove himself.
“I said stop it, Jason. ”
“If you think you can insert yourself into my family, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Your family?”
I grab Jason’s arm and pull him away. “That’s enough.” But he ignores me and wretches his arm out of my grasp. “This is mine. You don’t have a say here.”
Caleb looks at me and reads the confusion on my face, or disgust, because I can’t make any sense of this.
“Look, man. I think you should take a step back.” He looks down at the short distance between them.
“That’s what you want, huh? For me to step back so you can step in? I don’t think so.” He points to Charlie, and I know the words he’s about to say before he says them. I don’t know if it’s because I can sense them or because that’s what Jason does when he backs himself into a corner. He fights back viciously.
I pull Jason’s arm back, but he says it anyway. “That’s my son, not yours. I’m his father.”
Damn you, Jason!
Charlie’s mouth hangs open, and he stares at Jason, then at me. His bottom lip quivers, then he drops the ball on the ground, races across the lawn to the back door.
I glare at Jason. “You bastard. You didn’t have to tell him this way, and you know it. We were supposed to tell him together. ”
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you? He needs to know. You should have told him a long time ago.”
My voice cracks. “Not like this.”
I run back inside to Charlie, but Jason follows. I spin around and point at his car. “Get out.”
“We need to talk to him.”
“ I need to talk to him. You’ve said enough. Get out.”
My voice is hard, and my hands tremble. If he takes one step closer to the door, then I’ll kick him in the shins.
He reads my face and shakes his head. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
My heart breaks. “It never is with you, Jason.”
I wait until he’s gone before I call Charlie’s name. “Where are you?”
A loud crash from his room makes me jump in my skin, and I race toward the door, but it’s closed. “Charlie, open the door,” I shout while banging on it with my fist.
His voice is low, and a little scared. “I can’t.”
“What’s going on?”
“I tried to push the bookshelf in front of the door, but it fell sideways and now it won’t budge.”
Shit! I turn the knob and use my hip to open the door, but there’s no give.
“I’ll go in through the window.” Caleb’s voice makes me gasp and I cover my heart with my hand to hold it from beating out of my chest .
“I didn’t realize you were still here. I thought you’d run out of here after this.”
“You didn’t ask me to leave.” He looks at the back door. “Can I access his window from the backyard?”
“Yes!”
“Tell Charlie to open it for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I turn back to the door. “Charlie, Caleb’s coming to help. Unlock your bedroom window for him.”
Charlie doesn’t respond, but I hear the window crank. I run through the back door and across the yard to Charlie’s bedroom.
“Do you see those tabs on the edge of the screen?” says Caleb.
Charlie’s face is pale and his mouth tight. I want to jump through that screen and tell him everything will be fine.
“Pull those tabs open for me.”
Charlie squeezes his small fingers between the tab and the windowpane and releases the screen. “That’s it,” says Caleb.
Once the screen falls over, Caleb hoists himself up on the ledge and jumps into Charlie’s room. He puts his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s alright. Did you hurt yourself?”
Looking down at the floor, Charlie shakes his head.
“I need your help to lift the shelf up. ”
I want to interject that Charlie could hurt himself, but I know as a parent and a teacher that fixing something you messed up is important to confidence. How did Caleb know this when he’s neither a parent nor a teacher?
Caleb takes the top of the bookshelf while Charlie puts his hands in the middle. “One, two, three, heave!”
With very little effort, Caleb and Charlie lift the bookshelf off the ground and move it back up against the wall.
With the door now free, I race back across the yard, through the back door, and down the hallway. “Charlie,” I pant when I reach his room, and he looks up at me, his mouth turned down. “I’m sorry.”
I pull him into my arms and squeeze him tight. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Caleb walks past us, about to leave, when I stop him. “Don’t go. Please.”
He nods and stands just outside of Charlie’s room.
I turn back to my son, smoothing out his hair, and running my hands up and down his arms. I don’t know how to start this conversation. I’ve played it in my mind so many times, but I’ve never been this nervous. I don’t want him to be angry with me. I think that’s why I’ve held off for so long. I’ve kept the truth from him, and he has every right to be angry with me for it.
“Is it true?” he asks. “Is Jason my father? ”
My heart feels as though it will burst through my chest. My fingers are numb, but I keep rubbing his arms. “Yes. It’s true.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I inhale sharply and pull us both down onto his bed. “I didn’t know how to say it. When he wasn’t around, it was easy to keep it from you. I thought one day when you were older, we would have this conversation. But then he came back, and I knew I had to tell you sooner or later. I just didn’t know how. I’m so sorry, Charlie.”
He looks down at his hands, and I take one into mine. “I love you so very much. You mean the world to me. I never meant to hurt you.”
I can only see the side of his face as he’s still looking down. His freckles are more pronounced against his pale skin and his lips are nearly white. I close my eyes and scold myself for being a terrible mother. I should have protected him better. I should have prepared him.
“What do you want to know? You can ask me anything.”
“Why did he leave?”
I wasn’t ready for that one. I don’t fully comprehend it myself.
“We were young and unprepared. He wasn’t ready to be a father then, but he says he wants to be there for you now.”
“Is he the baby’s father? ”
I close my eyes briefly and rub my temples. “No. He’s not.”
Charlie looks up at Caleb. “Is he the father?”
I hate having this conversation with my son. I wish things weren’t so complicated. He deserves to have a simple family life like his friends have. I failed to give him that, too.
I reach for Charlie’s hand. “Yes,” I say. “He’s the baby’s father.”
He stares at Caleb and narrows his eyes while I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.
Charlie lifts his chin and asks Caleb, “Are you ready to be a father?”