Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
BERNIE SET A CUP OF tea on the table in front of her where she had her books laid out, notepads filled with scribbles and squiggles, some of which might actually be useful.
“Thank you,” she said, tipping her head back to look at him.
With his own cup, he sat across from her and jutted his chin toward the textbooks. “Tell me about what you’re doing.”
She’d been at it for hours this morning.
A yawn escaped without warning. She could blame Grayson since it was thoughts of him that kept her up, but she was supposed to be in control of her own thoughts.
No one to blame but herself. Thinking about him let everything else drift away like specks of sand on the breeze.
“I’ll be teaching introduction to psychology. I know the material, but I’m refamiliarizing myself with it.” She took a sip of the lemon tea he’d added a bit of honey to. “What did you do, Bernie?”
He smiled while sipping his tea, then set it down and looked at her probably illegible notes before meeting Charlie’s gaze.
“I started as a teller at a bank when I was younger than you. Worked my way up to manager of a branch, then a general manager. Spent my forties pushing myself to the top.” His eyes took on a sadness that made her curious.
“By the time I retired, I was the regional manager for several locations.”
The cup warmed her hands in a soothing way even though the cabin wasn’t cool. “Did you not like it?”
He picked up his tea. “Oh, no, dear, I loved it. Going to work was never a chore for me. It was a challenge. But I got caught up in doing more. Being more. And I missed out on a lot of things I’ll never have a chance to have again.”
His tone pierced a hole in Charlie’s heart. “Like what?”
“Time with Calla. When she got sick, I had more than enough money to hire the best care for her. Round the clock. But it should have been me caring for her. It was, in the end. And the more time I spent with her, the more I realized we could have lived in a shack, foraging for food, and my life would have been just as complete. Maybe not as comfortable, but there’s nothing that can replace the people you love or time with them. ”
Tears filled Charlie’s eyes and she stared into her tea, willing them away. She had a feeling it was one of those situations where if she let herself cry, there might not be an off switch. The dam was holding for now. Shaky as hell, but it was holding back the emotion.
“I’m sorry you lost her. I’m so glad that you had so many years with her. You were married for fifty, right?”
He nodded. “I knew, the minute I met her, when she held the door for me on the train, that she was the one. We had a great life. Calla wanted children so badly but we couldn’t have them.
So, we leaned into each other, we traveled, worked at jobs that fulfilled us, and fell into each other’s arms every night.
She was better at balancing it all, you know? Women usually are.”
A soft laugh escaped Charlie. “Some of them, I guess.”
“I met your mother once,” Bernie said.
Charlie’s gaze snapped up to his, her body jerking slightly, almost causing her tea to spill. “When?”
“Your grandfather’s funeral. My brother died about three months after your mom met your dad.
Bryce wasn’t talking to his dad at the time, but your mom convinced him that he’d regret not going to his own dad’s funeral.
She was a vibrant woman. I remember thinking it was like she had an inner glow that she couldn’t contain. ”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Charlie nodded, set her tea down. “I would still describe her that way.”
“You miss her,” he said.
“I do. Vivi and I have always been close. Part of me feels like we grew up together.”
“That’s not always easy on a child.”
No. It wasn’t.
“She can be a good mom,” Charlie said quietly, staring at her papers.
“But sometimes she doesn’t understand how her choices impact me.
And this one, well, it basically tore the life I’d built for myself apart at the seams. I can’t stitch it back together with her hovering if I’m more worried about her feelings and needs than I am about starting over. ”
“You have that same kind of glow, though yours is softer. Less pronounced,” Bernie said, picking up his tea again. “Where your mother’s cast a spotlight on herself and made others curious, yours draws others in, pulls them toward you because you make them feel safe.”
Trying her best to rein in the emotions that wanted out, she tapped her textbook. “Have you been reading these when I’m not looking?”
“I’ve been through enough to know, even without those books, that it’s okay to set boundaries and do what’s best for you.
Your mother is a grown woman who made her own choices.
I’m sorry that they impacted you. But you get to choose where to go from here.
You have to believe you deserve that, Charlotte.
You don’t owe anyone else anything. Not even your mother. ”
Ahh, if only that was as easy to feel as it was to think or say. She pushed back from the table. “I’m going to clear my head, get some fresh air.”
Bernie nodded, saying nothing when she pulled on her sneakers, tugged a ball cap over her head. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back to him. “Can you tell me one thing about my grandpa?”
Bernie smiled, sitting up straighter. “Jeremy was a good man. He liked to help others and often put them before himself. Sort of like you. He owned a moving company. Hoped to pass it on to your dad. It was one of the things they fought about.”
His words painted a picture and she had a flash of her dad, the man she remembered, trying to move anything with a guitar in his hand. Because he never set it down. In several of her baby pictures, he held Charlie with one arm while resting the other on his instrument.
“That was more than one thing,” she said with a smile.
Bernie’s gaze twinkled. “And yet, only the tip of the iceberg. The past isn’t going anywhere, Charlie. It’ll still be here when you’re more settled in the present and more sure about the future.”
Slipping out the door, she pulled a deep breath into her lungs.
Definitely different from California. She headed down the steps and around the side of the cabin.
There were trails everywhere and she’d only explored a few of them.
She liked the scent of the air here, the way it filled her lungs and made her feel fresh and new.
Capable and less anxious. Maybe that was just the effect of being away from a busy city, but she felt like it was more than that.
With her phone back at the cabin, her emotions walking a thin rope, Charlie tried to focus on the moment: on the sound of the water and birdsong, the scent of pine and flowers.
The walking trail led around the back of the lodge and came out behind the cabins on the other side of the property.
A squirrel darted across her path and skittered up a tree.
The water came into view through the trees, the cabins on her right offering little glimpses of personality with the fenced-in backyards, firepits, and small decks.
Charlie took another intentionally deep breath, held it, then let it out and relaxed her shoulders before she dove into practicing her opening speech for her first class.
“People think of psychology one-oh-one as a stepping stone. Something they have to take to meet an academic requirement, but I’m hoping, by the end of these twelve weeks, you’ll realize how much value this introductory course offers in and of itself. ”
Like he’d simply materialized out of thin air, or her overactive imagination, Grayson stepped out onto the path from between the two cottages, causing Charlie to make an embarrassingly loud, rather squeaky sound.
He held up his hands, stood still. “Sorry. I should have called out, but I thought that might scare you as well.”
“What are you doing, lurking back there?” She pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat giving it rapid-fire fist bumps.
“I was just putting the ladder away. I had someone here securing the roof until I can get it fixed.” He smiled from his spot, and for a second, Charlie considered it wildly unfair that someone’s smile could cause such a physical reaction inside of her.
Her lungs squeezed, her pulse accelerated even more, and her breathing shallowed.
Textbook. And yet, the texts said nothing about what to do when you didn’t want to feel this level of attraction to someone.
Gray stepped closer. “Tell me more about introductory psychology.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks as she started walking again. He brushed his hands together, then walked beside her.
“I was preparing for my lecture.”
“Have you taught at a university before?” He sounded so at ease that Charlie felt the urge to lean on him, physically and emotionally.
To open up and tell him absolutely everything.
That was something she’d never done with anyone, and when they’d found out the truth, the few friends she had left. Or wanted something from her.
“No.”
“But you have a doctorate?”
She glanced at him, brows arched in question.
He smiled. “Bernie was bragging. Should I call you Doc?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “No. I do have a doctorate, but I hadn’t planned to teach.”
“Well, you have a nice voice. Easy to listen to, and you’re smart. I’d listen to you, if I were in your class.”
They stopped at the water’s edge. Two guys were fishing off the dock, and one of their bigger boats was coming into view with several people on board.
“I appreciate that.”