14. Troy
It’s been a heck of a day, and yet, I’ve loved every minute of it. Seeing my grandparents and all my relatives again has been far more enjoyable than I thought it would be, but the cherry on the cake has been having Charlie by my side.
I’m not sure if she really knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to come to this party, but she’s handled it far better than I might, had the shoe been on the other foot. And of course, she looks stunningly gorgeous to boot. My cousins’ wandering eyes have not gone unnoticed.
The afternoon is drawing to a close, and my grandparents have gone inside to keep warm. A few of the older ones have joined them, but a lot of us are still outside.
“We’ve got to do it,” Geoffrey cries. “It’ll be fun.”
They’ve been talking of playing some games, and all being merry with beer, everyone is up for a little fun. The game my cousin Geoffrey is referring to is blindfolded limbo, and before I know it, someone has retrieved a bamboo cane from somewhere in the garden.
A few of the women offer their scarves to use as blindfolds, and then we’re all ordered to get into a line.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I say to Charlie.
She beams up at me. “I’ll do it if you will.”
“Seriously? With my height?”
“Chicken,” she mocks with a giggle.
I heave a sigh. “Fine. But I’m more likely to get garroted, and I’ll blame you.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says reassuringly.
“Right. Sure.”
She’s relaxed a lot over the last couple of hours. It might have something to do with the fourth glass of wine she’s finishing off, but I don’t care. Clearly, she was nervous when we first arrived, but she did her very best not to show it. In fact, she’s made me very proud of her.
I know she only agreed to this to make Grandma happy, and I’m still a little annoyed at Milly for putting her in such a position. But I can’t be too annoyed, can I? I’ve loved having Charlie by my side all day.
Cheers go up as the first few go under the bamboo. I turn back to Charlie. “There’s still time to back out.”
“Are you scared you’re going to make a fool of yourself?” She grins.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Good. That’s the whole point. Relax, Troy. Where’s that inner child of yours?”
I smirk at her, and then I struggle to maintain my smile because, from nowhere, I think of how I left her. I was just a child back then, even though I was nineteen. I should have listened to my gut and stayed. Instead, I let myself be bullied into leaving.
“It’s your turn,” she says, nodding forward.
Someone shoves a scarf into my hand, and I wrap it around my head and tie it firmly.
“Go on, Troy,” someone calls out.
I take another step, bend my back, and feel like an idiot as I walk forward.
A great cheer goes up, which I assume means I made it. When I take the scarf off my face, I turn to see Charlie beaming at me again. Yep. My heart actually skips a beat. Corny, I know, but it’s true.
“Right, we have to put it a bit lower for you, Charlie,” John calls out. “You’re a bit shorter than Troy.”
Charlie laughs, and says, “Go for it.” She then ties the scarf around her head. Flicking her shoes off, she hitches her dress up over her knees so she can maneuver better, and at the sight of her firm thighs, my eyes open a little wider. I just can’t help it.
She bends back with the litheness of a rubber band, miles away from the bamboo, and then we all cheer when she comes out the other side.
Tearing the scarf off, she beams up at me as I stand there watching her. “You see. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Not at all,” I reply, doing my best to contain myself.
The bamboo gets lower; all of the men are disqualified first, and it comes as no surprise to me that Charlie eventually wins the competition. Someone gives her a bendy straw as her prize, which sends her into a fit of giggles.
It’s past six when we finally decide to leave. The farewells to everyone nearly take a half hour, but we finally escape to the truck, not before Grandma tells me not to be a stranger.
“And you look after that young lady,” she says. “You’ve got a good one there, Troy.”
“I will,” I reply. And even as I leave her, there is a determination within me to do just that.
When I finally pull the truck into my driveway, I look over at Charlie, who looks a little tired, but happy.
“I haven’t said thank you for what you did today,” I say. “Grandma was thrilled to see us both.”
“It was my pleasure,” Charlie replies. “She’s a lovely woman. Just like a grandma should be.”
Charlie doesn’t have any grandparents. Her father was an orphan, and her mother’s parents both died when Charlie was very young. In fact, Charlie doesn’t have much family to speak of. I think there’s an aunt somewhere—her mother’s sister—but I can’t remember her mentioning anyone else.
“I want to make it up to you,” I say. “Will you let me make you dinner?”
“If I remember correctly, I’m the one who owes you for fixing my car.”
“Then you can wash the dishes afterward,” I quip.
Charlie giggles again, and when she settles, she doesn’t say anything.
“So, what do you say?”
Eventually, she nods. “I’d like that.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
“You mean now?” she blurts.
“Sure. When did you think I meant?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I…”
“Now is as good a time as any. Come on.”
* * *
With wine in hand, Charlie tells me about her business while I throw together boeuf bourguignon, potatoes dauphinoise, and a Lyonnaise Salad.
“It just gives me this great feeling of satisfaction when I see a room finished,” she says. “The thing is, half the time, my clients don’t really know what they want. It’s my job to figure that out and then present them with something I know they’ll love.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” I say as I peel the pearl onions.
“Yes. But it’s work I love. And that’s the main thing. You must get that.” She nods to the produce I’m preparing. “Is it not the same when you create a culinary masterpiece for someone?”
I smirk at her. “Maybe you give me too much credit.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I’m sitting here watching you, and I can hardly see your hands moving, they’re going so fast. Ten years is a big investment.”
“We’ll let the food do the talking,” I say.
And apparently, that’s precisely what it did because Charlie could not stop complimenting the meal. So much so, that it was getting embarrassing.
“I get it,” I protest. “You like it. I’m pleased, but enough already.”
“Am I embarrassing you, Troy?” she sings with a smirk dancing on her lips.
“My food is good, but I’m not Paul Bocuse.”
“Who?” Her eyebrows fly up her forehead in confusion.
“Never mind. Here”—I top off her wine—“have another drink.”
“So, tell me,” Charlie says. “Why now? Why return to Cherryville after all these years?”
I shrug. “Why not? It’s my hometown. It’s where I want to leave my legacy.”
Charlie seems to consider that reply, and as her expression changes with her thoughts, I worry that this conversation is about to go downhill.
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” I say, feeling it’s about time I apologize. “I should never have gone.”
She looks at me carefully, and then says, “Why did you? Why did you leave?”
I can’t tell her the truth. Not now, after she and her dad have patched things up after all these years. Do I want to be the man who creates another chasm between them? Nope. Not at all. And yet, if I tell her the truth, I know it will.
From what I’ve seen in my short time living beside her, Charlie doesn’t have anyone else. Besides, her dad’s pretty sick, from what I hear. She can’t ever know. I don’t want to be that guy who leaves her with such immense resentment toward her dad that it will ruin the one solid family relationship she has.
“I didn’t want to go,” I say. At least that’s the truth. “But I felt there was something out there, calling me. Something I could never find if I stayed in Cherryville.”
She looks a little hurt, but there’s nothing I can do. The pain would be far worse if she knew the truth.
I reach across the table and take her hand. “I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, Charlie. It’s the one thing I’ve regretted ever since I did it. I suppose I was scared.”
“What were you scared of?” she says. I can hear the strain in her voice. She’s trying not to show her anger.
“That if I came to tell you I was going, just seeing you would change my mind. But I was young and a fool. I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I see that I could have stayed with you and gone on to search for my dream.”
She thinks about those words for some time, and then she nods. “We were both young,” she says. “Maybe it was for the best. I might have held you back. And after that meal…” She smiles and nods at the empty plate beside her. “I would have been doing the world a disservice.”
I feel the tension breaking and can only hope that she truly feels the words she’s saying.
She pushes herself to sit up straight and then yawns. “Oh, my, I’m so tired.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, she continues. “I suppose I should get going.”
Her words are weak, and I can hear that she doesn’t really want to go. It gives me hope in my heart. “You don’t have to go just yet.”
Charlie nods. “Actually, I do. I have an early start in the morning.” She stands from the table and grabs her purse and her bendy straw. “And I get to go home with my prize.” She grins.
I walk her to the door and open it. She’s about to step out when I take her arm. She turns toward me with a questioning expression.
“Thank you again for today. It meant the world to me. And, you know, my grandmother,” I say quickly.
Charlie smiles widely. “I had a lot of fun.”
I gaze down at her, drinking her in. Her jet-black hair flowing over her shoulders, her soft skin beneath my fingertips, the gentle but arousing scent of her perfume. And then, hardly thinking about it, I bend my head and tenderly kiss her cheek.
She gasps a little but doesn’t pull away.
“Good night, Charlie.”
“Good night, Troy.”
And then Charlie Woods, with her cheeks blossoming pink, walks out of my house and down the driveway.