Chapter Fifteen #2
Now Marin had sent multiple apologetic texts—as if any of this were her fault—and to make matters worse, Charlotte hadn’t responded. She just couldn’t. Every time she even thought about what happened last night, she started to panic. Why had she kissed Marin?
Charlotte had spent so much of her life searching. She’d chased men, chased jobs, chased the possibilities offered in her daily horoscopes. None of it had helped her find what she was looking for, probably because she didn’t know what she was looking for, other than answers about her mom.
Which was why she was in Vermont, attempting to find those answers.
Charlotte didn’t have the time or energy to question her sexuality right now.
A relationship—with someone of any gender—wasn’t something she had the bandwidth for this year.
Bottom line, Charlotte was a mess, and Marin deserved better.
It made her physically ill to think of how Marin must be feeling about the whole thing.
Charlotte had ruined an important milestone for her—her first passionate kiss with a woman—and she would have to live with that knowledge.
More than anything, Charlotte wanted to hide from what she’d done, but first, she had to respond to Marin’s texts.
It was the decent thing to do, even if their friendship didn’t survive this.
Me: You have nothing to apologize for. This was 100% my fault.
Me: I need some time but I’ll talk to you soon. Promise.
Marin Easterly: Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.
Damn her. Why did she always have to be so nice? Charlotte didn’t deserve her kindness, not today at least. She deserved to be told she was a shitty friend if not worse. Her phone vibrated again, and she tensed in anticipation of what else Marin would say, but the text was from Elena instead.
Elena Campos: I asked around and found Bev Sinclair. She’s in Burlington now. Here’s her #
Elena Campos: also found these pix of us from high school when I was going through old photo albums with the girls. How cute were we?!?!
Elena had attached several pictures of her and Charlotte from high school.
Charlotte clicked on the first one to enlarge it.
Elena and Charlotte had their arms around each other, hamming for the camera.
In the next one, Elena was striking a silly pose while Charlotte gazed at her with unabashed adoration.
The look of yearning on Charlotte’s face in that photo . . .
Oh.
Fuck.
Her chest seized and her heart knocked into her ribs because those photos stirred feelings and emotions she’d long forgotten. They made Charlotte remember how it had felt to hold Elena in her arms, the obsessive need to be around her all the damn time. It was the same way she felt now with Marin.
But that meant . . .
Was it possible that Charlotte’s feelings for Elena had run deeper than friendship? That she’d fallen for her best friend in high school, and that was why she’d been so irrationally upset when Elena went to the prom with Marcus instead of Charlotte?
Oh god.
If that were true, it explained why Charlotte had gotten so emotional about the whole thing, why she’d let it ruin her friendship with Elena. It also suggested Marin wasn’t the first woman Charlotte had been attracted to, that Charlotte in fact had a history of falling for her female friends.
And that . . . well, she just couldn’t deal with this right now. Charlotte was here in Middleton to find her mom and reconnect with her dad. She wasn’t here to question her sexuality.
Tears stung her eyes, and she clenched her hands into fists until she got her emotions back under control. The photos from Elena had sent her into such a spiral, she’d almost missed the fact that Elena had also given her a lead: Bev’s phone number.
Thank god. She’d been trying to track Bev down for months! Grateful for the distraction, Charlotte dialed the number and waited. She doubted Bev would pick up. No one answered their phone for an unknown number anymore, but after two rings, she heard a voice straight out of her childhood memories.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Bev Sinclair?”
“Yes. Who’s this?” Bev asked.
“This is Charlotte Danton. I’m . . . I’m Terri’s daughter.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Oh my goodness. Charlotte. What a surprise! How did you get my number?”
“Elena Campos tracked it down for me,” Charlotte stammered, suddenly realizing she didn’t know Elena’s married name. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Bev exclaimed. “I’m glad to hear from you. I think of Terri often, but I . . .” She faltered. “Oh goodness, is there news?”
“No, but that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’d like to ask you about my mom. I’m trying to find out what happened to her, and I’m talking to everyone I can who knew her. Do you think we could meet? Would you be willing to talk to me about her? I’ll drive up to Burlington. I don’t mind.”
“I’d love to sit down with you and talk, but my husband’s immunocompromised, and it’s been a tough cold and flu season, so we’re limiting visitors. How do you feel about saving yourself a drive and we can chat on Zoom?”
“Zoom would be great,” Charlotte agreed. “When would work for you?”
“Well, like I said, my husband’s had a rough go of it recently. He’s recovering from pneumonia, so I’ve got my hands full right now. Can I call you in a week or so to set something up?”
Charlotte felt tears pricking at her eyes all over again because she wanted answers now, but obviously Bev’s husband’s health came first. Charlotte was just an emotional mess today. “Of course, and I really hope your husband is on the mend.”
“I do, too, honey. Thank you.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, Bev, and thanks again. I really appreciate this.”
“Nonsense, it’s my pleasure. If there’s anything I can do to help track Terri down, I’m happy to do it, but try not to get your hopes up. I told the police everything I knew thirty years ago, so I doubt I have any new information for you.”
“I understand,” Charlotte said.
A tear broke free as she ended the call. What would she do if Bev turned out to be another dead end? Because Charlotte had already tracked down and talked to everyone at the university who’d known her mom. She was out of leads.
Bev might be her last hope.
Marin arrived at the lawyer’s office for her house closing five minutes early and with her heart in her throat.
As her Realtor, Charlotte would be here while Marin signed all the paperwork and received the keys to her new house, but this wasn’t how Marin had imagined seeing her for the first time since their kiss.
They hadn’t spoken since those awkward texts last Sunday, nearly a full week ago.
They wouldn’t exactly be able to hash things out here at the lawyer’s office, but Marin hoped she could convince Charlotte to stop by the house afterward, because they desperately needed to talk.
She’d wondered at first if Charlotte was attracted to her, too, if maybe she wasn’t straight after all, but after six days of avoidance, Marin was forced to admit it seemed unlikely that Charlotte wanted to pursue anything with her romantically.
So Marin would try to repair their friendship. Whatever it took. She needed Charlotte in her life. Marin had made peace with the knowledge that they couldn’t be more than friends a long time ago. Of course, it would be harder now that she knew what it felt like to kiss Charlotte . . .
Her stomach tingled. She couldn’t even think about that kiss without getting hot, but she would move past it. She had to. As Marin got out of her car, she spotted a familiar SUV parked farther down the street. Charlotte was already here.
Marin gulped, wiping her clammy palms against her jeans.
Then she straightened her jacket and walked calmly up to the door, or at least she was reasonably sure she looked calm.
Internally, she was in chaos, but this was the benefit of so many years of masking.
She was a master at hiding her feelings.
She entered the lawyer’s office and greeted the receptionist, who guided Marin to a small conference room in back.
Charlotte stood at the window with her back to the door. She turned, and their eyes met. Marin gave her a friendly smile and a little wave.
See? Everything’s fine. We can still be friends.
That was what she attempted to tell Charlotte with her eyes. Charlotte’s smile, in return, looked stilted. Brittle. And that cut like a knife to Marin’s sternum, all the way to her heart.
“Hi,” Charlotte said after a slightly awkward pause. “Excited?”
Marin exhaled as she nodded. “Thrilled. I can’t wait to walk into my house in a little while.”
“I bet. Word of warning: The paperwork is a lot.”
Marin chuckled. “I’m ready.”
A middle-aged white man walked into the room, his graying hair neatly combed back, perhaps to cover a bald spot. “Good morning, ladies. I’m Peter Harkness.”
Marin recognized his name from the paperwork. This was the attorney who would be handling today’s closing. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Harkness.”
“Please call me Peter. You must be Ms. Easterly?”
“Marin.” She held out a hand, and he shook it.
The sellers had already left town, so they had completed their part of the paperwork electronically.
It would only be Peter, Marin, and Charlotte signing documents in person today.
Marin sat at the conference table and spent the next hour completing what felt like hundreds of documents.
She signed until her hand cramped, but with Charlotte and Peter’s guidance, she eventually got through it.
And then, he handed her a set of shiny keys.
Marin couldn’t have stopped grinning if she’d tried as she walked out of the office, and she definitely wasn’t trying. She was ecstatic to be a homeowner.
Charlotte followed her outside. “Headed over to your house right now?”