Chapter 11 #2
“That’s what I like about you. About us. You know what the problem is without being told. Without getting into it endlessly. No drama about the drama. No meta-drama. Just straight, flat-out, gritty real-life drama.”
“I’m all about life and death, Mr. Football. It’s my—”
“No, it’s more than your job. It’s you. It’s who you are.” He took a breath. “Come over?”
“It’s late.” He felt the hesitation in her rebuff. Maybe she was worried about her risky experimental subject. Maybe she was lonely.
“You’re restless,” he told her.
“You’re restless,” she said. “I know this is hard. This . . . whole thing.”
“For both of us.” He paused another beat and repeated. “Come over.” Technically he wasn’t begging, though he was breaking a rule. It was more like an order this time. A command. Women usually obeyed. But he didn’t own this woman.
More like she owned him.
“In a while. I have my mother to take care of first.”
“Not too late.”
“No, not too late.” She hung up.
He took a long, shuddering breath as he set his phone back down carefully on his black onyx coffee table. He watched the tremble in his fingers and tried laughing at himself, but his sense of humor, his sense of ease—the famous sense of ease he’d had with his life—was gone.
He had no idea when or how he would get it back. But he knew Charlie was the key. One way or another.
She turned around as she cradled the phone and met her mother’s quizzical look, then shifted her gaze to her sister’s knowing look. What the hell would she tell them? Why was she going to leave after nine o’clock at night?
“Who was it?” Her mother moved forward with her sister’s help.
Charlie went to her mother’s other side and helped her to her seat at the head of the dining room table.
It had been important to her mother to maintain this ritual, but it got harder to do each year, each month, heck, each day.
It seemed sometimes she could see her mother deteriorating with each move the older woman made.
Her once graceful movement and easy smile became measured and strained.
Soon her mother would be unable to walk even with their assistance or her cane.
Soon she would not be able to even feed herself.
Charlie let out a deep sigh and scolded herself not to borrow trouble. The worst might never come—not if she could do anything about it.
“I feel good today, Charline. Your medicine is surely working like magic. I’m practically gliding.
” Her mother brightened her smile and looked up at her.
Charline knew that movement cost her. Her neck and upper spine were particularly gnarled and stiff.
She smiled back as she pulled out her mother’s chair and delicately seated her.
Suzette played at assisting, but she didn’t take any of her mother’s weight.
She couldn’t. Not really. Not without cost to herself.
For about the trillionth time, Charlie wondered how and why she’d been spared; how and why she was strong and healthy.
As usual, the only rational conclusion she could come to was that she was the one meant to find their cure.
Fanciful for anyone else to think, but not for her.
Her father had talked of it, raised her on the possibilities, though he never expected his good little girl to attempt to carry on his dream.
Charline felt like her whole life was preordained for nothing else and nothing less.
“How’d the research go today? Any progress with your subjects?
” Suzette asked as she settled herself deliberately and slowly into her chair.
Charlie watched her carefully. Suzette was accomplished at hiding her pain and symptoms. Reminded her of the way Trent had done the same thing.
But she knew what to look for, knew all the telltale signs.
“I got a new assistant courtesy of Dr. Hogarth.”
“You don’t sound pleased. Why not, dear? Heaven knows you can use help—you work so hard.” Her mother smiled at her with her head pitched forward slightly, yet she still managed to angle it toward Charline.
“I would have preferred to hire my own help. It feels more like he’s hired her to spy on me than help me.”
“Why ever would he do that?”
Charline waved her hand. She shouldn’t have made the comment, however true it was. There was no way to explain it to her mother and Suzette didn’t need to worry any more on her behalf than she already did. Suzette had met Hogarth. She knew his ignoble intentions first hand.
Suzette said, “It’s a very top-secret research project, Mother. Dr. Hogarth is suspicious of everyone—even Charline it seems.”
“Let’s talk about something else, shall we?”
“Are you still planning on spending the weekend with your doctor friend from New York?” Suzette asked Charline.
“Oh—no. You can call your friend and let her off the hook—she won’t need to come stay over with you. I’ll be staying home except to go to the Trustees’ soiree Saturday night, but that’s all.”
“Not unescorted, dear?” her mother said.
“No. I found someone else.”
“Who? Do tell.” Suzette’s face lit up.
Charline realized she needed to tell them about Trent. Needed to lie to them about being engaged. And needed to do it sooner than later before they saw it on the news.
“Trent Lockheed.”
“Oh, how wonderful—Mother, you remember Trent donated money to Charline’s research—”
“That’s strictly confidential information. Please don’t say anything about it to anyone else.”
“He must be very well heeled, Charline. I hope he’s kind and healthy too.”
“Oh, he is an absolute hunk,” Suzette said with a foolish grin before a wheezing cough marred her perfect face.
Charline waited for her sister’s cough to subside, while her own chest squeezed and she caressed Suzette’s back in a soft circling motion. The gesture did nothing for her sister physically, but it helped Charline’s anxiety from overwhelming her.
When her sister calmed, Charline said, “He is wonderful.” She rehearsed the lines she needed to say, rolled the words around in her head.
In fact, he’s so wonderful I’m going to marry him.
The words stayed in her head. They didn’t sound convincing in her mind and she knew they’d be less convincing if she spoke them aloud. She couldn’t do it.
But she had to say something.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Suzette asked. She was damn sensitive to everything about Charline. It was some kind of mutual sister thing. They’d always looked out for each other. Or maybe it was because Suzette relied on Charline to help her live.
“What would you say if I told you I was engaged to be married?”