Chapter Forty-One
Forty-One
THE ONLY THING BEING ALONE did was give Charlie more time than she wanted to think.
There were a few books in the apartment.
She loved reading and picked up a Nora Roberts she’d read years ago but she couldn’t focus.
She couldn’t read more than two sentences without thinking about Grayson.
Or what was next. Her mother would be here any minute; her life was, once again, a disaster; and her heart physically hurt in a way she’d never experienced before this.
She could go for a walk, do some yoga, but she was too antsy.
She knew the antidote but she wasn’t sure if he’d talk to her. If he could even look at her.
The four nondescript beige walls of Maureen and Miles’s apartment felt like they were inching closer and closer, making her feel claustrophobic.
Bernie had reached out several times yesterday, but what could she say?
She didn’t know if she would go back to his cabin or home with her mother or just rent the little apartment in Mackinaw.
A knock sounded at the apartment door, pulling Charlie from her cyclical thoughts. Getting off the recliner, she told herself it wasn’t Gray. But her heart raced all the same.
It wasn’t Gray. It was his sister and soon-to-be sister-in-law. Nerves flapped little wings against her ribs.
Jillian held up a brown paper bag with the General Store logo on it. “We brought provisions.”
“Oh,” Charlie said. It came out as surprised but really, she shouldn’t have been.
These people had shown her time and time again who they were.
“You didn’t have to do that. It’s so kind that you would.
” Did they know the truth? Surely, someone had said something.
Their significant others wouldn’t have kept this from them.
Presley shook her head and stepped in, giving Charlie a hug. Shock delayed her response but when she returned the hug, a sigh of relief escaped.
“That’s what you do. One of your girls is down, you rally. You gather. No one in our group wallows alone unless they want to.” Presley leaned back, surveyed Charlie like she was giving her an out if she wanted them to go.
Charlie shook her head, making Presley smile, emotion making it hard to speak. Your girls. No one in our group.
When Presley stepped away, Jillian followed suit and gave Charlie a hug as well.
She hugged Jillian a little tighter than Presley, as if the pressure of the embrace could convey her regret at having hurt Grayson.
Jilly pulled back, smiled at Charlie, and, though there was no way it could be true, she looked at her like she understood. That she didn’t hate her or blame her for anything. Presley helped herself to the utensils and brought three spoons over, sitting down on the floor as Jilly sat in a recliner.
“Please, you don’t have to sit on the floor,” Charlie said, gesturing to the other chair.
“I don’t mind. Sit. Spill.”
Jilly snort-laughed and pulled three pints of ice cream out of the bag, setting them on the coffee table. “What Presley means is, we’re here if you need to talk, vent, or cry. Also, the person in crisis gets first pick of flavor.”
Charlie’s head spun again but in a completely different way than before.
“I’m not in crisis. That seems so dramatic.
Did … did someone fill you both in?” How much did they know?
How much of her soul did she have to bare in this moment?
She was done hiding but she was also really tired right now.
Drained. But if they needed the whole story, she’d share.
Jilly’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “My daughter is many things, but a secret keeper is not one of them. Once she started relaying the events, some follow-up was necessary. So, yes, we know who your parents are. But Charlie.” She held Charlie’s gaze.
“We know who you are, no matter who your parents are. You didn’t tell us that piece for your own reasons.
It doesn’t change how much we care for you. ”
She wanted to say she didn’t deserve this, but why?
Why couldn’t she have what she’d enjoyed over the last several weeks?
They knew and they were still here. She bit her lip.
“The video. It’s awful. But I think hurting your brother was worse.
I’m sorry for that and for upsetting Ollie.
Presley, I’m very sorry I’ve created unnecessary stress around your wedding day. I promise you, I’ll keep my distance.”
Jillian picked up one pint and held it out to her. Double chocolate chip brownie cookie dough. “Okay. You get this one because it’s more serious than I thought.”
“I was just going to say that,” Presley said. “Pregnant women choose second.”
Jillian smiled, picked up the vanilla bean toffee, leaving Presley the mocha fudge.
Presley worked the top off her ice cream and pointed her spoon at Charlie.
“You can’t keep your distance because you’re coming to the wedding.
Nobody deserves what happened to you, and having a genuine reaction to something is never a reason for your entire life to get flipped upside down like a waffle. ”
Jilly dug her spoon into her pint. “She’s right.
You might have hidden and kept your reasons to yourself, but Grayson’s an adult with his own baggage.
He knew that there was something you didn’t want to share.
He went into it knowing that. What your ex did at the lodge was horrible and unfair.
Same with the women who were going to be your sisters. ”
“Good thing you’re getting us instead of them,” Presley said.
Charlie’s lungs nearly shut down. She stared at Presley. Her body felt shaky and weak, like if she stood, she might topple over. No one had ever pulled her into their fold, their circle, in just this way. They didn’t even know her. How could they be so sure she wasn’t the reason for all of it?
Presley smiled at her, like she could read some of Charlie’s thoughts.
“That’s right. You’re getting us. Because you can’t just go back to California when you obviously feel something for Gray, but even if you do, if you decide you and him aren’t going to work out, we’re keeping you.
Distance doesn’t really matter when it comes to friendship.
There’s lots of ways to keep in touch. But you’re here teaching for a while yet, anyway. ”
“And we’re your friends because we like you, Charlie. Not because of Bernie or Gray. It might have started out as welcoming you because of Bernie, but that’s not why we’re here.”
“Why are you here?” She whispered the words because she didn’t trust her voice.
“Because that’s what you do when one of your friends needs you. You bring ice cream, and you figure it out,” Jillian said.
“Or not,” Presley added. “Sometimes you don’t figure anything out. You just eat ice cream and lament life.”
Charlie’s fingers had started to go numb from holding her pint. She peeled off the top and used the act of having a few bites to try to gather control of her emotions. They were currently scattered all over the place, like she’d upended marbles on a hill.
Chewing a large, and delicious, piece of cookie dough wrapped in velvety smooth chocolate ice cream, she tried to process all they’d said. Something occurred to her—a reason why it would be so easy for them to still accept her.
“You didn’t watch the video,” Charlie said, setting her open container, spoon still in it, on the coffee table.
“Yes, we did,” they said in unison.
“Charlie, you had a very real reaction to something that threw a wrench in all of your plans and ultimately destroyed them. What would you say to your patients if they were you, right now?” Presley fitted the lid of her ice cream back on the container.
What would she say?
“Is there something you would do with them?” Jilly asked. “An exercise or activity that would help you see that this isn’t your fault?”
Charlie put the lid on her ice cream, grabbed both hers and Presley’s, and put them in the freezer, the spoons in the sink. When she rejoined them, Jilly was still eating hers but both women were waiting for her answer. Holding her accountable.
“I guess we’d make a list, a mental or physical one, of the things they had control over, the things they could change or do differently, and then make a plan for moving forward.”
“Okay.” Presley clapped her hands together. “Let’s do that.”
Charlie laughed. These women made it all seem so easy. Maybe it was. Maybe one of Charlie’s problems was making her own life harder than it had to be.
But before she could think too much about that or the list, another knock came.
“Charlie? Honey? It’s your mama. You in there, baby girl?” Vivi’s booming voice came right through the door as if it weren’t there at all.
Presley and Jilly grinned as they looked toward it, their eyes going impossibly wide.
Charlie groaned and got up to greet her mom.
When she pulled the door open, Vivica stood on the little stoop.
No one would ever know she’d been traveling for a couple of days.
Her almost white-blond hair was perfectly styled, slicked down on each side with a perfect part.
It was long, hanging over her shoulders.
She wore a bohemian-style top with little flower beads along the hem, bell-bottom light blue jeans, and a gorgeous pair of dark brown wedge sandals.
Her lips were painted in her favorite shade of pale pink, and her eyes were smoky and dark.
She threw herself at Charlie, nearly strangling her in a hug. Vivi held her tight and rocked side to side. Then she pushed herself back, keeping her hands locked on Charlie’s shoulders.
“You’re pale. You need to eat. Have you been getting enough vitamins? Oh, who are these beautiful women?” It was all one sentence, barely a pause between each word.
Both Jillian and Presley had gotten up and come to stand just behind Charlie.
Anderson came up the steps, several bags in hand. They grinned, wrestling the bags inside and setting them down.
“Your mom is a cool chick, Charlie,” Anderson said.
Vivi let go of her daughter and pulled Anderson into a side hug. “And you’re just a charmer.”
Vivi smiled at Anderson, then looked back at Charlie, Jilly, and Presley. “In a twenty-minute drive, they made me want to see every inch of this island.”
Anderson blushed and extricated themself from Vivi’s grasp. “I love our island. I’d be happy to show you around, Vivi. Ladies, nice to see you, but I need to get going. Presley, how are the wedding jitters? You have any?”
“Not even one,” Presley said happily.
Anderson said good-bye, leaving Charlie to introduce her mother to Jillian and Presley.
“A wedding? When’s that?”
“Saturday,” Presley said.
“Who’s doing your hair, love?” Vivi asked, circling Presley like she was on a pedestal.
Jillian came to stand beside Charlie and whispered, “Your mom is fun.” She bumped their shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just have to fangirl a little.”
Charlie laughed.
“I was going to,” Presley said, touching her hair self-consciously.
“May I?” Vivi asked, gesturing to Presley’s hair.
Presley nodded, so Charlie’s mom pulled a strand between her fingers.
“Gorgeous. And if you’ll let me, I’d be happy to style it, honey.
You learn a thing or two when someone is always fussing with your hair and makeup.
Sometimes I was the one doing hair on our sets just to fill up the downtime.
You’ve got hair like Demi’s. Silky and strong. ”
“Demi?” Jillian asked.
Vivi turned. “Yes. Demi Moore. The hairdresser on a movie we were in was sick. Terribly sick, poor thing. I just stepped right in, took care of it. But really, hair as gorgeous as hers does itself. You’ve got gorgeous hair yourself.”
Jillian touched her hair. “Thank you.”
Presley looked like she was starstruck. Vivi walked over to Charlie.
“And you, baby, look like you’re running on empty.” She pulled her into another hug.
“We should go,” Presley said. “Let you two visit.”
Vivica pulled back. “We’ll have plenty of time. What do you say? Can I do your hair?”
“Mom,” Charlie said. “Don’t push.”
Vivi tutted, which was just a step away from pouting. “I’m not. Just offering.”
They were all standing by the door and Charlie felt the need to move, to walk or pace or maybe even run.
“I would be honored,” Presley said. “But only if you and Charlie will come to the wedding.”
Vivi beamed, pulling Presley into a hug. “Look at that. I already have friends and an invite to a party, and I haven’t even had dinner yet. Good thing I brought a few dresses. Now, speaking of dinner, is there anywhere to eat in this adorable little refuge of a town?”
“Of course,” Presley said, and Charlie watched as she slipped on her Smile Tourist persona. “What are you in the mood for?”
Charlie sighed, some of her energy returning.
She’d needed the space, but in that time, she’d forgotten how easily her mom could lift her mood, make her feel like everything would be okay.
She’d told herself the distance was for Vivi, but maybe it was Charlie who needed to stand on her own two feet.
She was trying but, it turned out, even at almost thirty, she still needed her mom.
Vivica winked at her, and Charlie laughed.
She’d always felt like she needed to be the counterbalance to Viv’s larger-than-life personality but maybe it was time, past time, to just be herself.