40. Charlotte
With the band packing up and the house lights on bright, the scattered remnants of the wedding dance mimicked Charlotte’s emotional state.
Stumbling into the restroom, she locked herself in the last stall.
Discovering that Henry had been in recent contact with his ex-wife was shocking, but not nearly as much as learning he had a daughter?
Once she heard that, she shut the door leading outside as quietly as she could and left him to his privacy, too aware that she was an outsider.
Having seen the young woman enough times today, Charlotte guessed her age to be in her mid-twenties, which could only mean Melanie was her mother.
It was staggering to think she must have been pregnant when she left Henry and Josh.
Oh, Henry, she moaned silently, imagining he must be struggling with the news, considering how they’d spoken of his desire for more children after Josh.
And poor Josh, learning about earth-shattering news like this on his wedding day.
At least he had Effie for comfort, and his dad. Who would be there for Henry?
Should she have gone to him and offered her support?
She couldn’t, though, not after what she’d overheard him say while still in the park after the wedding to his then-unknown daughter.
“Never get married,” he’d advised the young woman, unaware that Charlotte had been within earshot.
During the reception, she tamped down the words in her mind, unwilling to believe that he meant them, because if he did, what did that mean for their future?
Yes, she had embraced her “freedom” following her divorce, but her relationship with Henry wasn’t casual, nor did she want it to be.
She wanted them to be significant to each other; that didn’t automatically have to include marriage, but he’d brushed it away so callously, in a manner so unlike the Henry she’d fallen in love with.
And yet…if Melanie had been contacting him, pressuring him in some way, it was no wonder he felt what he did.
Couple that with the odd way Diadema had acted all day long, even someone as calm and even as Henry was bound to snap, eventually.
Exhausted and heartbroken, the only option for her now was to go home, so Charlotte gathered up as much courage as she could and left the restroom.
Many of the guests were already gone, so she made her way forlornly to the entrance of the Cattleman’s Club, picking up plastic cups smudged with lipstick and paper plates soiled with cake crumbs and sugary frosting from the long tables along the way, depositing them into the trash can nearby.
“You don’t have to do that.” Nora’s grinning face almost broke her.
“DD made sure that the restaurant was going to take care of everything. I don’t know about you, but things were so different when George and I got married.
Our families stayed after the dance and cleaned up.
Same with Trixie and Brian. Ugh—all that sweeping and hauling out trash, when everyone is completely wiped out after the big day? No, thank you!”
Charlotte gave a rueful smile. “Yeah, when I got married, it was nothing like this. Although we only had a few guests, and it was more of a ‘do-it-yourself’ kind of event. I was only eighteen, though, so there’s that.
” She gave a half-hearted laugh. “Oh, I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you on the big engagement!
Liam looks so happy, and I spoke with Lana a couple of times tonight. She’s lovely.”
Nora cut a slice of cake from the remnants on a nearby table.
“I can’t even wrap my head around it yet!
Although part of me wishes he would have waited to announce it sometime other than Josh’s wedding reception, I’m not surprised it happened this way,” Nora chuckled.
“That’s my son, though. Flashy, outrageous.
A true peacock.” After a sip of champagne, she added, “He waited a long time for Lana, and after finally meeting her today and getting to know her a bit, I can see why. She’s really wonderful, and a perfect match for him.
” Nora grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe her eyes.
“I can’t believe my son will be getting married! ”
“We should all be so lucky to find the right one.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the wistful tone from her voice.
Around a mouthful of cake, Nora said, “Well, you and Henry seem to have done that.”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, I thought so, but—”
“But what?” Nora refilled the glass she had been holding with the last few drops from a bottle of champagne on the table.
“Henry is happier than I’ve ever seen him, Charlotte.
” Nora took Charlotte’s hand in hers. “I’ve known him since…
I don’t know, kindergarten? Maybe before?
We shared almost every homeroom in school, so we were friends before I started dating his older brother.
He’s always been the careful one…the cautious one.
I hope whatever doubts you’re having don’t concern DD.
Even if he thought he was in love with her in high school, that was puppy love at best, and his feelings weren’t reciprocated.
Besides, he would never have been happy with her.
She needed a different kind of man, and that is not my brother-in-law, bless him.
I know she’s been acting erratically for the past year, but the truth is, and I’m not defending her, that she’s terrified of losing Burnside.
DD talks a big game, but inside she’s a mess of insecurities.
Her parents were not the warm, fuzzy kind, and they opposed her marriage to her first husband basically because he was Lakota.
Losing Nathaniel,” Nora shook her head, “was traumatic for her, for Effie. She’s been through a lot. ”
“Mom.” Liam swooped up behind Nora, hugging her and lifting her off her feet.
Nora laughed. “Just wanted to say we are out.” After placing Nora back on firm ground, he kissed her cheek, drawing Lana in to hold her firmly at his side.
“Hey, Charlotte, you and Uncle Henry looked good together on the dance floor.”
“Hi, Liam. And Lana, it was nice meeting you,” Charlotte said. “Congratulations to both of you. You both look ecstatic.” To Nora, she said, “I should be going, too. I’ll see you later.”
Nora asked, “Tomorrow, right?” and Charlotte smiled without confirming, unsure of what her future held.
Deflated, Charlotte looked around for Trixie to tell her goodbye, but didn’t see her.
The giddy expectation she had this morning of leaving the wedding festivities with Henry hand in hand was gone.
Instead, she was alone, and more than likely, would be for the foreseeable future.
Intent on providing Henry with as much space and time as he needed to process the revelation that he had a daughter, she would have to put aside any concerns she had about the status of their relationship or about him communicating with his ex, and why he hadn’t told her.
Waving to Tess and Ruth, each in the arms of their husbands, Charlotte opened the door to the main entrance, hoping for a hasty exit. No sooner had she stepped outside when someone asked, “Can we talk?”
Spinning, Charlotte assessed Diadema, looking less glamorous than she had ever seen the woman.
Even more shocking was the woman speaking directly to her, something she seemed to have gone out of her way to avoid doing, except for the day Charlotte had surprised her by answering Henry’s door, in his shirt, after they’d made love all night.
“I don’t know if now is a good time,” she responded, wanting only to get home so she could finally succumb to the tears she was barely restraining.
Moving closer, Diadema said, “Please.”
The haunted look in her eyes convinced Charlotte to give her some grace. Crossing her arms in front of her, Charlotte waited for Diadema to speak. “I’m listening,” she prodded, when she just stood there.
“It wasn’t intentional, but I heard part of your conversation with Nora, and I want to clear the air.
I’m sorry, I really am. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting, other than to agree with what Nora said.
I’ve lived a privileged life, mostly, but there have been challenges and regrets.
Nothing was the same for me after I lost my first husband,” Diadema’s voice broke, “and even though I’ve built a great life with Burnside, there’s this little voice in my head constantly reminding me that maybe I don’t deserve it, that it’s somehow my fault he’s having health issues.
It’s the same voice I heard when Nathaniel died.
His parents blamed me for his accident, and even though we’ve reconciled, I still hear it, now more than ever. ”
Witnessing the other woman’s vulnerability made Charlotte ashamed.
She’d always prided herself on understanding people, yet she had chosen to react to Diadema with hostility, almost from day one of meeting her.
She should have guessed her bravado was hiding pain, and she wondered if jealousy had colored her perception, causing her to view Diadema in a more unflattering way than she deserved.
“I’m sorry, too, for what you went through.
Are still going through. It’s hard to lose someone you love.
” Diadema nodded, and Charlotte felt a surge of sympathy.
“I guess in some ways, I was intimidated by you.”
“Me?” Diadema snickered. “I’m all style and no substance, just ask anyone.
” Charlotte remained silent at the self-deprecating remark.
“I guess that’s why I went to Henry. Sometimes it seems like he and Nora are the only ones who see me for me.
And I’ve probably ruined our friendship with my selfishness. ”
“I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I need some assurances, too.” She gave Diadema a serious look, wanting to make sure she was clear.
“I respect your past with him will do the same with your friendship, if he wants one. But Henry and I are together, and you need to respect that. I don’t want to feel like we’re competing with each other. ”
“Absolutely,” Diadema agreed. “Nora was right. Henry and I would never have been good together. I hope you understand, Charlotte, that I was not trying to ‘get’ Henry. I just needed a friend, but the way I went about it wasn’t right.
You know how they say, ‘hurt people hurt people’?
” Charlotte nodded. “Well, that was me. And my drinking hasn’t helped. ”
“No more pop ins?” Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“I can assure you, no more pop ins. I’m incredibly ashamed I did it in the first place.
Again, I was insecure and jealous, for lack of a better way to put it.
You and Henry are so good together. You suit each other in a way few couples do.
Except for my daughter and his son, of course.
” Diadema looked back at the restaurant.
“I should get Burnside so we can go to the hotel.” She cocked her head at Charlotte.
“Maybe we could have lunch together sometime?”
She smiled at Diadema, “I’d like that,” and watched her go back into the building, then started toward her house.
This afternoon, when she’d made her way on foot to the park, she had expected to ride home with Henry tonight.
Of course, she could have asked someone for a ride, but the last thing she wanted was to explain where Henry was, or why he wasn’t with her.
She leaned against an oak tree and removed her sandals, walking the rest of the way home barefoot.
Had she made a mistake slipping away without telling him she was leaving?
What else could she have done, short of interrupting him?
She had to trust that he would come to her when he was ready.
At her house, creamy yellow light bathed her porch, thanks to Henry.
The light had flickered on and off since she’d moved in, but after the first night Henry spent at her house, she’d come home from an afternoon at the city swimming pool to find him standing on a footstool, screwdriver in hand, removing the fixture.
“Henry,” she had told him, “I’m sure I could get the rental company to take care of that. ”
He had merely shrugged. “Why bother with that when I can do it?”
She had laughed, enjoying the sight of him stretching and twisting.
When he was done, she drew him off the stool and into her arms, sinking her fingers into the silver curls she loved so much at the back of his head, and he had tossed his screwdriver down onto the small table under the light, both hands sliding over her hips, pulling her body against his, and then lifted her so her mouth could meet his.
Charlotte leaned her forehead against the door before unlocking it, reliving that day.
Entering her house, she hung her keys on the hook just inside before heading to her bedroom.
Part of her wanted a cup of hot tea, but another longed for nothing more than crawling into bed, consumed with thinking about Henry, worrying for him, for Josh, and for his new daughter.
Letting the dress she had worn to the wedding fall to the floor, she ignored the silky, sexy lingerie at the foot of the bed she had planned to wear for Henry tonight.
A pile of his clothing from a couple of days ago was in an easy chair by the window; well, not a pile, really, since, in usual Henry-fashion, he had folded everything up neatly.
She padded over to it and brought his white tank to her nose, inhaling his scent: sweet from the honeysuckle shower gel of hers he used, smoky from the coffee beans he roasted with what had to have been vanilla…
and was that Irish cream?, and the masculine musk that was uniquely him.
Tossing her bra on top of his clothes, she pulled the tank on, comforted by being surrounded by him in this way.
Choosing numbness over concern, after brushing her teeth and washing her face, she crept into bed, where she fell into a troubled slumber.