Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
Julian
He woke to the sound of birdsong. He didn’t know which of the birds had braved the winter, but they were twittering away outside the window.
He popped his eyes open, taking in the thin streams of gray light that filtered between the blinds.
He laughed under his breath. The house was simply filled with music.
It was where Charlie had learned to sing.
It was where Doris had taught her and Tom to play the piano.
Where her love of theater was born. Even the birds seemed to recognize that.
Julian inhaled deeply, his senses overwhelmed by the smell of coffee.
After the kind of long, physical night they’d just had, he wanted to bury his face in a mug.
He rolled over and stretched contentedly.
He’d forgotten how nice it was to hold someone into the night, to feel their weight at his side, to listen to the even sound of their breathing.
Charlie’s side of the bed was abandoned, the sheets rumpled, but he could hear the clang of dishes as she puttered around in the kitchen.
For a long, blissful moment, he considered what it would be like to wake up like this every morning.
Things might not have worked out the last time, but now they could take their time figuring out how to be together.
There was no schooling demanding their attention, no reason to rush off at the end of the holidays, no threat of long distance hanging over their heads.
Julian knew he could make her happy. And sure, Elm Springs might not be a Broadway stage, but after everything they’d talked about, it didn’t really sound like that was what Charlie wanted anymore.
At least not right now. She’d loved the stage because she loved performing with her brother.
Now that Tom was gone, it seemed like she was hesitant to stand up there alone.
And if that wasn’t what brought her joy anymore, then Julian would support her until she figured out what did.
He stood, slipped on his boxers and padded across the floor. It was an old, creaky house, and the moment he set foot in the hallway, Charlie’s voice caught him. “I left you a new toothbrush in the bathroom,” she called. “And towels if you want to shower.”
“Thanks,” he called back, heading for the bathroom.
She had indeed left him a toothbrush next to the sink and fluffy white towels.
He grinned down at them for no reason at all other than he liked the domesticity.
He would still have to pop home for a change of clothes at some point, but this was a good start.
He fiddled with the shower and waited for the water to heat up, then stepped beneath the spray, groaning at how nice it felt. Doris had clearly splurged on an expensive showerhead. As the water kneaded the muscles in his neck, he considered what came next.
Charlie had obviously offered him the shower, and there was definitely coffee downstairs, so he doubted she was chasing him out.
It was Saturday, and he actually kind of liked the idea of spending some of the weekend together…
Or all of it. They could review the email for the day of the choir competition, just to make sure they were prepared, and then he could help her with whatever organizing she still had to do in the house for Doris.
Maybe she’d even let him take her out for lunch or downtown to see the Christmas light display in the park.
He could hold her hand as they walked between the evergreens. What a nice thought that was.
He finished up in the shower, brushed his teeth and put his clothes back on.
When he exited the bathroom, Charlie was humming along to the radio. Her voice drifted through the kitchen, soft and melodious. She sounded happy.
“Morning,” he said, coming up behind her.
“Morning. How do you feel about bacon?” she asked, taking a package out of the fridge.
“A shower and breakfast? I didn’t know this was a B&B type joint.”
“I’m obviously hoping for a five star review.”
“Well, you’re definitely on your way.” He inched closer to her. She leaned up against the counter, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” she said.
He lowered his head, making his intentions clear. Charlie smiled a bit, then pressed up on her toes so she could kiss him. It was a chaste thing by all standards, but it still filled his gut with butterflies.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, pecking the corner of his mouth. “Bacon? What’re your thoughts? Yes… No?”
“I feel very good about it.”
Charlie hummed. Her hair was in slight disarray, her oversize shirt wrinkled, and he thought she’d never looked sexier.
He found her hip, slipping his hand beneath her shirt to feel the soft skin beneath.
His hand came to rest along the groove of her spine.
He pulled her closer and kissed her for real, until he was light-headed in the best way.
“I can’t feed you if you’re going to keep doing that.”
“I’m quite satisfied with this,” Julian assured her.
Charlie chuckled against his lips. “Don’t even try to pretend you’re not starving.”
As if on cue, his stomach growled.
She pulled back. “I can hear my five star rating crumbling.”
“I don’t know. This kissing thing is kind of nice, too. Might make up for the lack of food.”
“Well, you’ve never had one of my bacon, egg, tomato breakfast sandwiches.”
“You’re telling me I’m going to prefer this sandwich to kissing you?”
“You just might.”
“Now I’m curious.” He gave her backside a pat, and Charlie smirked. “Can I help? I have been known to make some eggs in my day.”
“You can help yourself to coffee,” she said. “Or there’s orange juice in the fridge. And then you can get out of my kitchen.”
“Understood.” Julian poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table where he could watch her move back and forth, dropping the bacon into a large frying pan.
In another, she cracked eggs. While everything cooked, she took a cutting board from behind the toaster and diced up thick slices of tomato.
“You’re not committed to a specific kind of bread, are you?”
“No,” Julian said. “Should I be?”
Charlie popped a couple slices of bread into the toaster. “Gram only ever ate one brand of multigrain, and I feel like she ruined all other bread for me.”
“It’s funny the things that stick with us from childhood,” Julian said.
“Every time I see a woman with a giant purse, I swear I can still taste the caramel candies my grandmother used to keep in hers. I would sneak them on long car rides and spend twenty minutes trying to open the wrapper without getting caught.”
Charlie laughed. “Gram used to keep a dish of sour candies on the coffee table in the living room. I can’t tell you how many shops I’ve searched trying to find the same ones.”
“No luck?”
“Never. It’s like they only existed in my imagination.”
“That’s how I felt about my grandmother’s gingerbread. She only ever bought it at Christmas, and I’ve tried so many places around town and can’t seem to find anything remotely similar. The bakery I get the gingerbread house kits from is good but…” he sighed “…I miss that gingerbread.”
Charlie tilted her head, regarding him. “Gram used to make these cookies with plum jam inside them around the holidays. They were dusted with powdered sugar and literally so good. She’d always know when Tom and I had been sneaking them, and I’m only now realizing that was because we probably had sugar all over our faces. ”
Julian waited for the mention of Tom to upset her, but she chuckled like she’d remembered it fondly.
He sat up, encouraged by her good memories. He wanted this for Charlie. He wanted her to be able to remember things without the weight of grief dragging her down. “Did you ever learn how to make the cookies?”
Charlie snorted, flipping the eggs and bacon as the toast popped. “If I ever mastered that plum jam, I’d eat it straight out of the jar. It’s addicting.”
“We’ll have to ask Doris for the recipe.”
Charlie added mayo to the toast and layered on a slice of tomato. “No chance. She hasn’t even handed that trade secret down to my mom.” She turned to him, blinking slowly.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, I…have all these Christmas memories flooding back.”
“Tell me,” he said softly.
She crossed her arms, leaning a hip against the counter, taking a moment to process.
“I remember this one Christmas—I must have been about five or six, Tom just a bit older—Gram bought us recorders. They were under the tree, and we got them Christmas morning. Tom had been learning at school, so he was actually quite good, but I wanted to be good, too, and I just kept wailing on this instrument.” She caught her lip between her teeth, shaking her head.
“My poor parents sat there all morning enduring that.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t take it away.”
“Oh, Tom took it from me and hurled it into the basement.”
Julian laughed. “Is it still down there?”
“Probably. My dad went down to look for it but he couldn’t find it in Gram’s museum of junk. I cried for hours.”
“So you’re telling me there’s a music thing you’re horrible at?”
“Horrible is probably a strong word.”
“Pretty sure you told me your brother had to ditch the instrument in the basement in order to save Christmas.”
Charlie turned back to the counter, licking mayo off her finger. “I’d like to think that I picked up a thing or two at Juilliard. I think if I ever found that recorder, I’d be able to get a tune out without making anyone’s ears bleed.”
“Not sure I trust that,” he teased.
“Speaking of instruments,” she said.
Julian wrinkled his nose. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“You have the same tone I use when I ask Diane for money.”
Charlie grinned. “It might be a good idea to get some jingle bells for the competition. It’ll make the performance a little more dynamic. Also adds a little sparkle and fun.”
“Well, I’m all about fun,” Julian said. “How much do jingle bells cost?”