Chapter 16 #3
I jerk my face to the side. “No, I have memories, Patrick, and only because I couldn’t Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind them out of existence.” I take a step back and look at him. “Anyway, I’m involved with someone else, and unlike you, I have absolute clarity on the subject.”
He does a slow blink. “Huh.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t expecting that. Well, whoever he is, I hope he likes competition.”
“As a matter of fact, he does, but it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
My insides grow warm at the mere thought of Charlie. “Because he’s already won.”
With the weight of Patrick’s return on my shoulders, I push open the cafeteria doors, feeling like Aragorn entering Helm’s Deep. I find Gloria sweeping the floor while Angela sits on the edge of a table, chattering away. Their one-way conversation ceases at the sight of me.
“You look like you crawled through Hell to get here,” Angela remarks.
I don’t have the energy to refute her claim. “We have a code red.”
Angela’s delicate eyebrows move as high as they’re physically capable of. “Olivia got her period?”
“Different code red.”
Gloria stops sweeping and grips the handle of the broom. “The Prick?”
I nod. “He’d like to stay for the remainder of the week since he paid.”
Angela remains unnaturally calm. She points to a smattering of debris on the floor. “You missed a spot, Gloria.” Once Gloria resumes sweeping, Angela looks at me. “Isn’t Charlie staying in the cabin assigned to Patrick?”
“He is.”
Angela fans herself with a napkin. “Two hot guys in one cabin? Sign me up.”
Gloria whacks Angela in the arm with the broom bristles.
“Charlie isn’t going to share with Patrick,” I say.
Angela’s smile grows to Cheshire cat proportions. “Then he should keep sharing with you and let Patrick move into his cabin.”
“What?” I sputter. “Charlie isn’t sharing with me.”
Angela flashes me a knowing look. “You’re not the only one up at sunrise, darling.”
Heat spreads from my neck to my face. Of course she knew. “His cabin flooded. I let him stay for a night … or two.”
Now it’s my turn to get whacked with the broom by Gloria. “I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because there’s nothing to tell.” I’m not sure there’s any point in lying, now that I’ve told Patrick I’m seeing someone, but this thing with Charlie is too new and too delicate to share with the whole camp, which is exactly what would happen if I confessed to these two.
Angela isn’t easily dissuaded. “Where did he sleep? Inquiring minds want to know.”
“The bathroom.”
Angela’s smug expression says she isn’t buying the wares I’m peddling. “He’s six-four and those bathrooms are designed for children.”
“He sleeps in the fetal position.” I need to cut off the conversation before my lies get more outrageous. Before you know it, I’ll be telling them I shortened his legs with an axe from the barn to make him more comfortable.
“I hope Patrick finds out you’ve had another man sleeping in your cabin.” Gloria’s broom strokes have gone from smooth to staccato. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to show his face at camp again.”
“He has no shame,” Angela says. “It’s almost admirable.”
“Remember those pranks we weren’t allowed to do to Charlie?” Gloria asks.
My heart stops. “No. Absolutely not. Do not engage.”
“Can we steal his clothes when he’s in the shower?” Angela asks.
“You just want him walking around naked.”
Angela shrugs. “Honestly, it’s a win-win.”
“He’d probably enjoy it,” Gloria says. “We don’t want to do anything that might give him pleasure.”
I snort. “In that case, we should call Charlie’s brother to surgically remove Patrick's left hand.” I glance at the door, as though he might enter the cafeteria at any moment. “Maybe he’s telling the truth, and he has changed. He seemed to be wearing his heart on his sleeve.”
Angela rolls her eyes. “Honey, that splotch of red isn’t his heart. It’s a flag.”
“When you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses, red flags just look like flags,” Gloria adds. “But you’re not wearing them now, right?” She sounds ready to rip the glasses off my face and crush them beneath her flip-flop.
“Definitely not.”
“What about Charlie?” Angela asks. “Any rose-tinted glasses when you look at him?”
“I see Charlie quite clearly, thanks for asking.” I wish I didn’t. I wish Charlie Thorpe was nothing more than a barely discernible shadowy figure instead of a man in danger of burning my retinas with the brightness of his presence.
Gloria pins me with her most maternal look. “It’s possible to have an incredible connection with someone who isn’t right for you, you know.”
Her words hit hard.
“Charlie, on the other hand, is a catch,” she continues, “which isn’t a sports reference, although it sounds like it could be.”
I nearly choke on my relief. Patrick. She was talking about the Prick. “I thought you didn’t trust Charlie either.”
“I didn’t at first, but I’ve changed my mind. Everyone’s entitled to grace.” She pauses. “Except Patrick. He’s already shown us who he is. Now we need to believe him. Right, Cricket ?”
“Listen, maybe cut him some slack. You don’t know all the crap Patrick went through as a kid.” I struggle to share without breaking his confidence. “The women in his life … we were the collateral damage in his war with himself.”
Gloria pinches my arm.
“Ouch!”
“Don’t you dare do that.” Her voice is low and menacing.
“Do what?”
“You have compassion coming out the wazoo and you’re using it to justify someone else’s shitty treatment of you. You’re prioritizing his feelings over your own.”
Was I? “Patrick’s therapist told him he was using me to fill a void, but he insists it was more than that.”
Angela offers an inelegant snort. “More like he was filling your void.”
“He’s single now. That’s why he wasn’t here last week. He was moving out of their house.”
Gloria’s scowl deepens. “I don’t care if he was flying the Millennium Falcon. He has no business coming back here after how treated you.”
“Are you considering giving him another chance?” Angela asks.
“Definitely not.”
“Because of Charlie?”
“No, because of me.” Patrick isn’t the only one who’s changed.
I’m not the person I was two years ago either.
Present Cricket doesn’t try to make a meal out of breadcrumbs.
She deserves nourishment for her mind, body, and soul—whether Charlie is the right chef for the job, however, remains to be seen.