Chapter Twelve #2
“Oh, I can imagine,” Charlotte said with a laugh.
She’d spent countless hours at Elena’s house in high school, enough that Elena’s parents felt like an extension of her own family.
She’d learned to make mofongo and pasteles in their kitchen, and yes, she’d heard Elena’s mom carry on about wanting her to marry a Puerto Rican, despite living in a state without a large Hispanic population.
Elena rolled her eyes playfully. “Right, so she adores him, but obviously, I do too. We have two daughters, Emily and Sophia.” She held up her phone to show Charlotte the lock screen photo she’d glimpsed last time.
“Wow, they look so much like you. That’s great. I’m really happy for you.” It was the truth, but she also felt a heavy sense of regret for all the time they’d lost.
“Thanks,” Elena said. “What about you? Husband? Kids?”
She shook her head. “None of the above, surprisingly enough. I definitely thought I’d be married by now, but it just never quite worked out for me.”
“Yet.” Elena raised her eyebrows for emphasis. “We’re still young. You might find the man of your dreams any day now.”
Marin’s face flitted through her mind, and Charlotte wondered if she was looking for a man at all. “Maybe.”
“Forgive me if I’m bringing up a painful subject, but did you ever find out what happened to your mom?” Elena asked.
Charlotte reached for her soda and took a long drink. “No, but that’s part of the reason I’m here. I’m determined to get answers.”
“Good for you,” Elena said. “I hope you do. I figured if there was ever a break in her case, I’d have heard about it, but I always wondered if she reached out after you and I lost touch, you know, if she’d just started over somewhere.”
Charlotte’s stomach clenched. “No, she never got in touch. It’s hard to think she could be out there, living her life without me.”
“Amnesia?” Elena suggested. “I know that doesn’t happen as often in real life as it does in the movies, but it does happen. She could have had an accident, a brain injury . . . who knows.”
These were the scenarios that kept Charlotte up at night.
She’d never truly have peace until she had answers.
“If she got hurt, she never sought help. My dad hired two PIs who spent years looking through all the Jane Does out there, living and dead. She wasn’t one of them.
” Charlotte paused. “You don’t happen to know Bev Sinclair, do you?
She and my mom were close, but I can’t track her down.
I feel like if anyone knew what happened, it would be her. ”
“I don’t, but I know a lot of people in town, and my mami knows even more. I’ll ask around for you. Surely someone knows Bev.”
“I would really appreciate that,” Charlotte told her, surprised to feel tears pressing at her eyes.
“I’ll owe you one if you can track her down for me.
And on that note, I owe you an apology for how I acted senior year.
I was a terrible friend, and sitting here with you now, hearing about your husband and kids, it’s really hitting me that I lost twenty years of knowing you.
I don’t think I can ever truly tell you how sorry I am. ”
“Listen.” Elena put down her sandwich, her expression serious.
“I certainly cursed you out plenty back then. I hated you with the fiery passion of a teenager scorned, but in hindsight, we were both so freaking immature about the whole thing. Honestly, did we really throw our entire friendship away because I got a date to the prom after promising to go with you?”
“It sounds so stupid now, but it felt like the end of the world then.” Charlotte sighed. “I was so hurt, which is just silly. I mean, that much angst over the prom?”
“And it was so bad! I didn’t even have fun,” Elena exclaimed. “Marcus was a tool. I ended up wishing I’d blown him off and gone with you like we’d planned. Of course, by then we weren’t speaking, so I couldn’t tell you that.”
“Teenagers are clueless,” Charlotte said. “I hate that I never tried to look you up later on, once I’d grown up enough to realize how stupid I’d been.”
“Same, girl. Same. We’re both just as guilty on that front.”
“So are you a teacher?” Charlotte asked. For as long as they’d known each other, Elena had wanted to teach elementary school. She’d had her career path all mapped out, while Charlotte hadn’t had a clue what she wanted to do. She’d stumbled into realty, and it stuck.
Elena grinned. “Nope. I took an introductory psych class freshman year of college and realized I’d found my actual calling. I’m a child psychologist now, and I absolutely love it.”
Charlotte blinked. “Wow. That’s . . . different.”
“Does anyone really know who they are in high school?” Elena shrugged. “What about you? What are you doing these days?”
“I’m a Realtor,” Charlotte told her.
Elena snapped her fingers. “I can totally see it. You’ve always been great with people, and you have impeccable taste.”
“Thanks.” Charlotte studied the woman sitting across from her.
Elena was as vivacious as ever, but she’d matured from the teenager Charlotte used to know.
Now Elena oozed competence with an undercurrent of compassion, and yeah, Charlotte could see her as a child psychologist. In fact, she wished she’d had someone like Elena when she lost her mom.
Her dad had never mentioned therapy, so Charlotte was left to deal with her feelings alone.
When Charlotte left the café two hours later—with plans to see Elena again next week—she felt light on her feet. She was so grateful to have reconnected with Elena. Maybe they’d become good friends again. Charlotte hoped so.
It was just past one on Monday afternoon, and she was right down the street from the campus.
Maybe it was the sense of nostalgia brought on by her lunch with Elena, but she felt suddenly drawn toward the place she’d spent so much of her life avoiding.
Other than her visit with Allan Svenson last month, Charlotte hadn’t set foot on the Northshire University campus since shortly after her mother’s disappearance, and now that felt like an oversight.
Charlotte needed to visit her mom’s old building to see if anyone there still remembered her. Maybe someone at NU could help her uncover a new avenue to pursue, because Charlotte was dangerously close to running out of leads.
Decision made, she unlocked her car and got in. She put on her favorite upbeat playlist and turned the music up loud as she drove to the university. To refamiliarize herself with its layout, she turned onto the road that ran around the campus perimeter.
As she drove, she took in the stately brick buildings she remembered.
There were also quite a few new, modern-looking additions, some of which seemed to be academic halls, some dorms. The university had evolved, just like Elena had.
After looping the campus, Charlotte parked in the visitor’s lot and started walking.
She’d visit Wallis Hall first, where her mom had taught. When she was here last month, Charlotte had been completely focused on Allan Svenson. This time, she would go inside with her mom in mind. Hopefully something or someone there would give her a new lead.
Two young women passed her, walking in the other direction, laughing as they looked at their phones, and something about the closeness between them reminded Charlotte of her and Elena at that age.
How different might Charlotte’s life have been if she’d attended NU with Elena the way they’d always planned?
“Charlotte?”
Her stomach pinged with that all-too-familiar fizzing sensation before her brain even recognized Marin’s voice. Charlotte spun to face her with an almost embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. “Marin, hi!”
Marin’s brow wrinkled. “Are you looking for me? What are you doing on campus?”
“I . . .” Charlotte gave her head a quick shake, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. “I had lunch with Elena near here, and then I decided to stop by the campus, maybe wander around my mom’s old building and see if anything new shakes loose. It sounds silly, I know, but . . .”
Marin’s expression softened. “That’s not silly. It’s a good idea to talk to people who knew your mom, and there are certainly people in her department who’ve worked here that long.”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping.” But now she was distracted by looking at Marin.
A slate-gray pencil skirt peeked out from below Marin’s maroon wool peacoat. Her hair was pulled back, emphasizing her cheekbones and the graceful slope of her neck, and goddamn she looked good in her professional attire. Like, ridiculously hot.
“I’m off to my introductory statistics class,” Marin was saying as Charlotte spiraled about how hot she was.
Get a grip, Charlotte. Seriously. “Feel free to stop by and observe after you’re finished poking around campus, if you like.
” A smile flitted across Marin’s gorgeous face.
“You can let me know if I’m a boring teacher or a fun one. ”
“I’m sure your students find you fascinating.” Charlotte certainly did. “I won’t be interrupting if I come in halfway through your class?”
“Not at all. I’d love for you to come. Ziegler Hall, room 311.”
“Okay then.” Charlotte hoped she didn’t look as smitten as she felt. “I’ll stop by in half an hour or so.”
“See you then.” With a wave, Marin walked away.
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of Marin’s ass in that skirt, but it was hidden by the peacoat.
Not straight, indeed. Charlotte’s body was sending some pretty serious signals on that subject.
She shook herself out of her Marin-induced stupor and kept walking toward Wallis Hall.