Chapter Seven #3
“Well, after the divorce, things at home were pretty unstable for me as my parents figured out what their new lives looked like.”
Charlie tipped her head, staring at him like she might be able to see straight past his bones, to the place his heart raced.
“Anyway, I started spending most of my time with my grandmother. She cleared out space for me in her home and in her life full-time.”
“That’s really sweet,” Charlie said.
“She was an amazing lady,” Julian agreed.
“But when I got older… When I realized the disease was taking her from me and I couldn’t return the favor of looking after her on my own, it was sort of devastating.
” Somehow even Grandma Sofia had left him behind, through no fault of her own.
Julian swallowed down the weight of those feelings.
“But the nursing home she ended up in had this amazing music therapy program, and on the days I visited, it provided a way for me to still connect with her. Even when she couldn’t remember people or places or how to hold a fork, there was a place in her brain that music could reach.
A place that brought her back to me. So I think for me, music is really all about connection.
It unites people. I know that sounds silly. ”
“No,” Charlie said softly, staring at him in a way that made Julian flush. “It sounds really nice. Glendale is lucky to have someone like you looking out for the residents.”
Julian waved her off, slightly anxious about how personal he’d gotten.
“I mean it. I was so worried about how Gram would adjust to living at Glendale, but knowing how much you care about the residents and the programming here…” She shrugged.
“I just want her to be happy, you know? I’ve been packing up her house and every room I tackle makes me think about everything she’s given up.
I never really thought about that before.
About what it would be like to spend decades building a life only to slowly lose it to time.
” She shook her head. “Maybe that doesn’t make any sense. ”
“I get it,” Julian insisted. He did understand. “That’s why I want this music program to work so badly. I want it to be a comfort as people make the transition to assisted living.”
“I think that’s partly why I let Gram talk me into this,” she admitted. “I wanted her to feel comfortable and settled here before I left. And I really want her to find that sense of community and connection you talked about.”
Partly, he thought. What other reason would she have had to say yes? He shoved those thoughts aside before he could dwell too long.
“I think Gram’s been lonely lately,” Charlie admitted, staring off across the dining room.
He studied the soft line of her jaw, remembering what it was like to kiss her there. “You don’t get back to visit her as much?”
Charlie’s face pinched all over and he had a sudden desire to smooth the harsh creases away, to be the person to comfort her, but he couldn’t.
There were lines here. Boundaries they both needed.
“I, uh…” she started to say. “I’ve found it easier not to be here.
And my parents have been doing a lot of traveling lately. So Gram doesn’t really have anyone.”
Julian didn’t understand. From what he remembered of their time together, Charlie had always loved spending time in Elm Springs. Her and her brother. “And Tom… He doesn’t get back very often, either?”
Charlie clutched her elbows to her chest like she was preparing for a blow. “Tom actually passed away a couple years ago,” she said, the words tumbling from her lips so quickly he thought he must have heard her wrong.
Julian blinked. It felt like a bomb had gone off in his head.
He hadn’t misheard, had he? Charlie didn’t look at him, but it didn’t matter.
The words finally registered fully, and Julian felt them settle in his gut like acid, burning through his insides.
He wished he could rewind the conversation or burn it from existence altogether.
“Charlie, I’m so… I’m so sorry. I had no idea or I wouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted, hugging herself even tighter, her knuckles blanching around her elbows.
He was at a loss for words. He hadn’t heard anything about Tom in town. Not that he would have. Doris was the only one of the family that had lived in Elm Springs, and it wasn’t like they’d stayed in each other’s lives these past eight years.
“You couldn’t have known,” Charlie said, continuing like she was compelled to fill the space.
“But no, to answer your earlier question, Gram hasn’t had all that much support in the wake of everything.
Tom and I were traveling together and performing before it all happened, so we were away a lot.
And since then, I’ve barely been able to stay in one place long enough to hold down a job, and I certainly haven’t been performing.
Anyway, I guess I just mean that it’ll be reassuring to know that Gram enjoys living at Glendale.
That she has people to look out for her. ”
Julian wasn’t sure what else to say. Suddenly all Charlie’s panic from that first music class made sense.
When she’d stood at the front of the room and told him she couldn’t do the class, he hadn’t understood her hesitation, but now he did.
Maybe this even explained why she’d been so uptight with the choir today—she was still grieving the loss of her music partner.
“You know, Tom was always really kind to me,” Julian said. “I remember that about him. He always made me feel welcome, even when I was crashing family time or stealing you away.”
Charlie frowned, and Julian understood that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
He wanted to hug her, to drag her into his arms and squeeze until the pain she held so tightly ebbed away.
Julian knew grief wasn’t like that. It didn’t just disappear.
But he was still overwhelmed with the desire to hold her until it did.
He shifted the subject before he could do something foolish. “Just so you know, you don’t have to worry about Doris. If you’re not around for a while, I’ll look out for her.”
Charlie stared at him, her eyes wide and glassy, and she was suddenly so close. She reached for his face, her fingertips soft against his cheek.
He tilted his head a bit, pressing into her palm, memory flooding through him.
Heat swelled in his chest, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to close the distance.
The familiarity was like pulling on a favorite sweater.
Comfortable. Right. And then, as if all the rational thought had bled from his body, Julian leaned in and caught her lips.
They were soft and supple, and so still, as if her body was responding to the shock. In a rush of panic, he thought about pulling away and apologizing, but then Charlie moved, tilting her head. Her lips parted as his hands wrapped around her upper arms, holding her close.
She tasted like burned coffee and strawberry chapstick.
Julian kissed Charlie like he’d never stopped kissing her, and for a split second, it felt like he existed in a world where no time had passed.
A world where Tom was still alive and they had endless summers ahead of them.
Julian made a sound against her mouth, and Charlie fell into him further.
His hands left her arms and wrapped around her back, smoothing over the grooves of her spine.
She placed her hands on his chest, her fingers tightening in his shirt as his tongue swept across her lower lip.
The squeak of a cart cut through the fog in his brain, and Julian wrenched away suddenly.
He couldn’t be doing this with her. He couldn’t let the emotion of the past cloud his judgment, messing with the present.
Charlie was confused and upset and grieving, and he was opening himself up to the pain of rejection, to the reality of being left behind.
He looked up to see Warren poke his head into the room.
“Plows have come by,” he called. “In case anyone’s been stranded. ”
“Thanks,” Julian called back, struggling to keep his voice even. His heart pounded, and all he wanted to do was drag Charlie back into his arms. But he couldn’t.
“I should go,” Charlie said, jumping to her feet. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Julian opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He’d tried to make something work between them once already. He knew how this would end, so this time when she ran off, he didn’t try to chase her. He didn’t need to sign up to be her collateral damage.