Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
E MILY
It’s about six in the evening when my phone rings. I let it ring three times and then I decide that if I don’t pick it up, she’ll just find me another way.
“Hello?” I try to hide the sadness in my voice.
“Emily? Why aren’t you texting me back? I’ve sent you four messages.”
“Sorry. I’m fine,” I mutter, my voice a little shaky.
Trina pauses and I know that means she’s trying to discern if I’m really fine. It’s likely I’m not fooling her. Still, she doesn’t call me out on it right now.
“So, what have you and Charlie been doing with his time off this week?”
I’m confused and taken by surprise, not understanding what she’s talking about. Before I think better of it, the question slips from my mouth, “Charlie’s been missing work?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line and I immediately realize my mistake.
“Why don’t you know that Charlie hasn’t been at work? You’ve been staying with him.”
I hesitate to answer, gnawing at my lower lip. I know this is going to open a can of worms I’m not sure I’m ready to have opened. But I know my sister and she won’t let this go. Not when it concerns me.
“I moved out last week.” I want to make my voice sound cheerful, but I just can’t force it and fail.
“What do you mean you moved out of Charlie’s? And why is this the first time I’m hearing of it? From either of you.” I hesitate, trying to figure out how to word things. “Emily, talk to me.”
“I moved out. It was time. I’m renting a short-term Airbnb downtown. There’s lots of people around and you don’t need to worry about me.”
“Send me the address.”
It’s not a request, it’s basically an order. Sometimes I swear my sister forgets that she’s not at work and I’m not one of her firefighters. Yet I know it comes from a place of love, so I don’t hold it against her.
“Trina, you can’t just be out and about when it’s getting late. What about the creeper?”
“It’s fine. There’s been no contact, no messages since the day before Ben and I came to your house. I’m thinking maybe he was just a drifter. Ben’s still crazy, but I think it’s okay. Now tell me the address.”
I sigh. “89 Main Street,” I say. “I’m fine, though. You don’t have to come.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Bye.”
When she arrives, all it takes is one look from her, and my tears fall. How do I have any left? I thought I cried myself dry over this week.
I’ve never been able to hide my feelings from my sister. She knows me like the back of her hand.
Trina pulls me into one of her hugs; she gives the best hugs. It’s too bad she doles them out so infrequently because I know from experience how comforting they are. God knows, she had to hold me enough last year when Teddy died.
To her credit, she doesn’t ask me to tell her anything right away. She just guides me to the couch, sits down next to me, and lets me cry on her shoulder. When I get the courage to look at her face, the corners of her mouth curve downward in a concerned frown, her bright blue eyes are focused on me, as if they’re searching my face for any clues to what happened.
“Are you ready to talk about it now?” Her voice is soft and kind.
This is the side of her that very few people get to see. Trina had to grow up way too fast and take care of a younger sister, to boot. I don’t think she ever had time to really feel her feelings, to be loved unconditionally as a child like she did for me. To have someone else make her feel like it’s okay to not always have it together.
“Do you want to go sit on the balcony and have a glass of wine?” I ask. I might be stalling.
A few minutes later, we each have a glass of chardonnay and we’re sitting on the two rockers that were provided with the Airbnb. It’s a warm, late August night, nearly September, so it’s not near as hot as it has been.
Dusk is settling outside, and I can see fireflies with their glowing butts dotting the air. It makes me feel just a tiny ounce of happiness in a week that’s otherwise contained a lot of sadness and pain.
“I’m glad to see that you’re in a second story unit. It makes me feel better about you being here alone. And the parking area seems well lit.”
Her words remind me that even with everything my sister is going through right now, she still puts me first and didn’t think twice about racing over here. I’m hit with guilt when I realize maybe it wasn’t the ideal thing for her to do.
“Yeah, it’s a nice little place. I have it rented for two weeks and then I have the option to renew for two weeks at a time until mid-October. I need to start looking for my own place again.”
Trina turns her head to look at me, her brow furrowed. “It seems like you’d stopped house-hunting. I’m kind of surprised to see you suddenly living in an Airbnb and resuming the search.”
I know she’s trying to give me a segue into telling her what happened, and I open my mouth to try to talk about it, but I just can’t get the words out.
“Did you have a big fight? It doesn’t seem like you could’ve argued about anything big enough for Charlie to kick you out of his house.”
“He didn’t kick me out, I left. It just wasn’t ideal for me to be staying there anymore.” Time for a subject change. “Trina what did you mean about Charlie not being at work all week?”
“About a week or so ago, he sent a message out asking if there was any way he could take vacation days for his next two shifts. He found coverage for one of them on his own and we were able to cover the second one, so we gave him the week off. I had no idea you weren’t still staying with him, so I just assumed he was doing stuff around the house to get ready for fall. But if you’re not with him, it’s odd he hasn’t texted me at all.”
“Have you ever met Charlie’s parents?” The question comes out of nowhere, but I can’t stop myself from asking.
Her eyes fix on me and there’s a hard look in them at the mention of Charlie’s family.
“Yeah, his dad’s quite a piece of work. There are few bigger assholes in the world than that man. I swear if I didn’t hate him for the ridicule and abuse that I know he heaped on Charlie as a child, the way he treats his wife is enough to make me wanna kick his ass.”
“Didn’t you go out with his cousin?”
A sarcastic laugh erupts from Trina. “I’m not sure you could call it that. I met him for drinks one evening and we got about thirty-five minutes into it before I couldn’t do it anymore. He’s a weasel and a control freak. Even tried to order what he thought I should drink without asking my preference.”
“I met his parents—well sort of met them—a little over a week ago.”
A wince flits across her face, like she knows it probably wasn’t a positive experience.
“Charlie and I were gonna go hiking in Meadow Creek and on our way, he got a phone call from his mom. She sounded scared and we heard a man yelling in the background and then she hung up. We diverted and went there. I know I’ve been a little sheltered, but I’ve not seen anything like what I saw in that house. I don’t know if Mr. Fitzgerald physically abuses her, but clearly he emotionally abuses her.”
“Is that what you and Charlie fought about? Was he upset that you had something to say about his mom? Because I know Charlie wouldn’t give a shit if you said something bad about his dad.”
“No. Not at all. I actually feel a lot of compassion for her. She stays, but I think that maybe at this point in her life, she doesn’t feel like there’s another option for her, even though Charlie tried to get her to come back to his house with us. He told me to stay in the car, but of course I didn’t listen and when I walked in after hearing the yelling, I found Charlie with his dad pinned up against the wall. I’ve never seen Charlie so angry. He was shaking with rage. And the venomous looks and words coming out of his father’s mouth. That man’s a monster.”
Trina grimaces. “It probably embarrassed Charlie you saw that. He’s almost as bad as me with wanting to protect you and not have you see the ugly things of the world.”
“I’m twenty-eight years old. You can’t protect me my whole life, and neither can Charlie. Think of just this last year. Bad shit happens to everybody. None of us can escape it. You took wonderful care of me growing up. It should never have had to be your job, and a lot of siblings wouldn’t have taken that on. But you made sure that I had a childhood full of love and the security of knowing I was cared for. It’s not your responsibility to keep doing it, Trina. I’m not a child anymore. Just be my sister.”
I see a single tear roll down Trina’s cheek and she wipes it away. I don’t draw attention to it because I know that would make her uncomfortable. Instead, I reach across the small table between us and grab her hand. And I sit here on the porch, on a hot August evening, with a broken heart and my sister by my side.
I’m not going to tell her what happened between Charlie and me.
One of his biggest fears is that he’ll lose Trina if she finds out about us. After getting insight into his family life, I understand. He’s quiet and reserved and doesn’t have many people, so the possibility of losing his best friend is probably terrifying to him.
Yet he was willing for us to sit down and tell her together; that’s part of what I’m struggling to reconcile. He made it clear how he feels about me—or, more accurately, how he doesn’t feel—so why would he have agreed to tell her at all?
When Trina leaves a half hour later, I hug her goodbye, then in a hushed voice, ask, “Will you check on Charlie, please?”
She gives me a sad, tight-lipped smile and simply nods.