16. Troy
I’m not at the restaurant today because the engineers are refitting the entire kitchen; fryers, ovens, stoves, and everything. But that doesn’t stop me from perfecting my craft. I don’t need a restaurant kitchen to narrow down my ingredients and get the dishes perfect.
It’s as I’m wrist-deep in a peppered sauce that I hear yelling outside. I’m a bit surprised. This is a pretty quiet neighborhood, and you don’t generally get domestic disturbances, especially not out in the open. But these guys are clearly going at it in the street. I shake my head and am about to start grinding in a bit of salt when I realize that I recognize the woman’s voice.
Is that Charlie?
Grabbing a cloth, I wipe my hands and head to the living room window at the side of the house. I can’t see Charlie from this angle, but sure enough, there’s a guy at her front door, gesticulating dramatically.
“I’m your boyfriend, Charlie,” he says.
What?!
Immediately, my blood runs cold, but a second later, I hear Charlie’s retort. “No, Eddy. You were my boyfriend…”
On no level do I believe that Charlie is capable of playing the cheating game, but I still feel relief flooding through me. The argument continues for a few more moments, and then I hear Charlie’s front door slam shut.
This Eddy character stands in Charlie’s driveway for a few seconds longer before turning and walking away. He climbs into a Mercedes, and with his tires screeching, he hauls away.
I move back into the kitchen and return to the stove. My peppered sauce still simmers in the pan, the raw steak rests on a plate, and my finely sliced onions sit on a chopping board.
I’m torn.
Do I go over there to see if she’s okay? Do I stay here and continue what I’m doing and mind my own darned business? Maybe she’ll be embarrassed if she knows I heard everything—but maybe she needs a friend right now.
This debate goes on for a few minutes before I remember the way I wasn’t there for her when she needed me all those years ago. I knew, when I left, that she would end up having to live the life she had lived before we got together—which basically meant becoming a slave to her father, again. I could have put a stop to that. I could have stayed.
Are you now going to do the same? Are you going to leave her to deal with this on her own?
No. I’m not.
I grab the trash bag that needs to go out, open the back door, and skip down the steps to throw it away. I’m turning to go back inside the house when I hear a whimper. Peeking through a tiny gap in the fence, I can see Charlie sitting on her back porch, crying. A second later, I’m back in the kitchen, scrubbing up.
Walking down the side of her house, I find Charlie in the same position; her hair hangs down over her face, and her shoulders are slumped forward. I can see them jerking as she sobs.
“Are you okay?” I say carefully. I don’t want to frighten her, and speaking before walking up to her is likely the better approach.
She turns her head to look at me and then turns away again. “Just peachy,” she sniffs.
“Yes. I can see that,” I say as I walk over to her and lower myself down to sit beside her.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pull her into my chest, and let her just get it all out. I have a problem with those people who try and stop others from crying. You’re crying for a reason. If the emotion needs to come out, it’s best to get rid of all of it, in my opinion.
A little while later, she’s calmed herself, and she slowly pushes herself off me.
“Thanks,” she sniffs.
“Here.” I hand her a handkerchief I have shoved in my back pocket.
“Really?” she half laughs.
“You never know,” I say, not wanting to admit that I’d grabbed it on my way out of the door. We’re silent for a bit, and then I say, “Was that one of your unsatisfied customers? Did he not like the paint color?”
Charlie half laughs again and shakes her head. I’m trying to bring some light comic relief to the situation, mainly because I’m uncomfortable with her being upset. Sure, I’m all for letting emotions out, but when you don’t know how to make things better, that feeling of helplessness is overwhelming, and it makes me feel uneasy.
“You heard, huh?”
“Would’ve had to be deaf not to,” I quip.
“Great. So now all my neighbors know my business.” She sighs.
“I’m sure the rest of them are far too busy watching daytime T.V. Judge Judy is pretty addictive once you get into it.”
Charlie looks up at me with a wry grin. I smile down at her. She still looks beautiful, even with red-rimmed eyes and a nose that would make Rudolph envious.
“He’s my ex,” she says. “We split up three years ago. In fact, it’s your fault he came around again.” She gives me a half-hearted smirk.
“My fault?” I balk.
“Sure. He’s heard you’re back in town. He sees you as competition and me as some kind of challenge.”
“What?”
“You don’t remember Eddy Crowley from school?” she asks.
I furrow my brow and shake my head. The name means nothing at all.
“He was on the track team. Super competitive.”
“Nope,” I say. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Well, he remembers you. In fact, it was only after we were dating for about a year that he admitted how proud he was to have snagged ‘Heaton’s girl.’” She gestures air quotes. “That should have been the first red flag.”
I don’t say anything to that and wait for her to continue.
“Of course, I was the same na?ve idiot I’ve always been and ignored it. He was just so charming; even Dad liked him, and you know how fussy he is.”
“Hmm,” I say noncommittally.
“I suppose I thought things might get better. But narcissists don’t get better, do they? They just hurt you more.”
Guilt rises in me. It begins in my stomach and moves up my body, tightening across my chest and threatening to crush me. It seems to be a regular state of being lately.
“Like a fool, I hoped things would change,” she continues. “That is, until I discovered that he was seeing someone else behind my back.”
“What a scumbag.”
“Oh”—she laughs mirthlessly—“it gets better. You see, Eddy thinks a lot of himself. He thinks I should have been grateful that he allowed me to be with him.”
“Are you serious?” I blurt.
“Dead serious. And given that he is, of course, God’s gift to women, one sleazy encounter was not enough for him. He has to outshine every other sleazeball out there. In the end, I discovered there were at least four other women.”
“What?” My eyes are as wide as saucers because I can’t believe any man would be stupid enough to cheat and risk losing someone as wonderful as Charlie.
“I kid you not,” she says.
Even through the shock, I sense the guilt running all the way through me now. It comes back to that same old tune. If only I’d stayed. If I’d stayed, Charlie would never have been with Eddy. If I’d stayed, she would have been saved from the hurt and pain he caused her. I’m hardly any different, am I? I hurt her just as badly.
Sure, but you would never have broken her trust like he did.
I’m not sure if that’s true. It might not have been broken in the same way, but when I left, it was broken all the same. I’ve lost count, since I’ve been back here, how many times I have wanted to turn back the clock and do it all again.
But I don’t have a DeLorean, and my name isn’t Marty McFly. All I can do is be here for her now. That, and maybe find out where this Eddy guy hangs out. I’m sure if I take a few of the boys with me, we could have a friendly chat that will result in Eddy never darkening Charlie’s door again.
Reaching out and taking her hand, I say, “I’m sorry, Charlie. This is all my fault.”
She spins her head to look at me, a heavy frown creasing her brow. “How do you figure?”
Shrugging, I answer, “If I’d never left, none of this horrible stuff would have happened to you.”
She gives me an intense look and shakes her head. “You can’t know that, Troy. You can’t know that we would have stayed together, even if you hadn’t left. No one can say one way or another.”
“Yes, but it’s possible.”
“Maybe,” she returns, “but I’m a woman with my own mind. I’m the one who takes responsibility for my actions. No one forced me to be with Eddy. Perhaps it’s one of those life lessons I just had to learn. At the end of the day, I’m stronger for it.”
Her ethic is pretty impressive, and I can’t help but admire it. But I still feel like I’m to blame. Not wanting to get into some kind of contest, I don’t argue the point any further. In my mind, it will always be my fault.
“I suppose you’re a man-hater now, then,” I say, wanting to know exactly where she stands where relationships are concerned.
She smiles up at me. “Are you testing the field? You want to know if there’s a chance for us?”
I’m a little taken aback by her forthrightness, but I can’t deny my intentions. “I do. You’ve been through a lot. I know that. It makes me wonder if you can ever trust again.”
“You mean, trust you?” she says.
“Yes.” I pause a beat. “Can you, Charlie? Will you give me a chance to prove to you that I’m not the guy who left?”
She doesn’t say anything for the longest time. The waiting feels like torture, but I can’t push it. After what she’s experienced, I want her to be sure. I can wait. I’m not going anywhere.
“Okay,” she says in a light and easy tone.
I’ll be honest, I nearly fall off the step. “Really?”
She smiles up at me again. “Really.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Are you trying to change my mind?” she counters with a smirk.
“No. No. Not at all,” I say hurriedly. “I like your first answer just fine.”
I’m still holding her hand, but it’s like I’ve forgotten about that. Maybe because it just feels so natural, or maybe because my mind has been occupied by this intense conversation. I lift my free hand to her cheek and gently turn her to face me.
“Can I ask you another question?” I say. My throat seems to have tightened, and my voice sounds far deeper.
Charlie doesn’t speak this time; she only nods.
“Would you mind if I kissed you?”
She shakes her head.
I don’t give her a chance to change her mind, though I can see by the desire in her eyes that she won’t. Bending my head toward her, I bring my mouth to hers.
Her soft lips tenderly brush against mine, sending a delightful tingle across my body. My heart thumps out of my chest as our mouths move together. I’m even more ecstatic when she parts her lips and our tongues connect. It’s been a long time, and I can’t remember her tasting this sweet.
Charlie places her hand on my arm and pulls me in closer, showing me she’s feeling as intoxicated as I am. But as wonderful as this feeling is, I need to stop before I lose myself completely in this woman’s affection.
When I finally pull away, Charlie’s eyes are still closed, and she lets out this soft breath of what I assume is pleasure. If she’s feeling anything like I am at this moment, she’s floating. It’s a sensation I want to feel again, but for now, I need to be careful. One step at a time.
Besides, I don’t want to be the cliché guy who happens to be there when the girl is upset and takes advantage of that. Instead, as hard as my heart is still thumping, I need to be here for Charlie.
An idea suddenly pops into my mind. “Hey. Do you want to come and see the restaurant?”
She beams a huge smile and nods. “I’d love to come and see the restaurant.”