Chapter 1 #2
Each piece had been purchased after much consideration and debate. She remembered one spirited discussion that had ended with them making love on the floor where their new sofa would eventually sit. Afterward, relaxed and sated, they’d come to a meeting of the minds on fabric.
Hannah’s hand stilled on a box of dishes, the memory bittersweet. Brian had been so healthy, so fit, so incredibly vibrant and alive…until he wasn’t.
“Need help?”
The unexpected voice had Hannah whirling, nearly hitting her head on the side of the hatch of her car. She blinked and realized this was no stranger offering assistance. This man was someone she knew. “Charlie?”
“Hey, you remember.” He flashed an easy grin that was as much a part of him as the worn jeans and the dark wavy hair that went past his collar.
“How could I forget?” Her tone turned droll. “You were in our wedding.”
Not just in the wedding. He’d been Brian’s best man. Their friendship had been one Hannah had never understood.
While her husband and Charlie had both been popular athletes and good-looking guys in high school, Charlie had struck her as over-the-top loud and something of a show-off.
Brian had always told her that if she took the time to get to know Charlie, she’d like him. There had never been an opportunity. The two boys had gone to different colleges, and after graduation, she and Brian had married and settled in Greensboro.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make the funeral.” Charlie shifted from one foot to the other. “My mom was in the hospital and pretty sick. With my dad out of the picture, I needed to stay close.”
“I understand.” Those days were a blur anyway. Besides, Charlie had always struck her as a wildcard, and she hadn’t needed any drama at the service. There had been enough with Brian’s mother fainting and hitting her head, necessitating a 911 call.
Hannah remembered wishing she could just give in to her grief, weep uncontrollably and fall apart, leaving someone else to pick up the pieces.
Instead, she’d gone on autopilot and made the arrangements, contacted everyone who needed to be reached and comforted Brian’s parents.
Only in her townhouse, once everyone had left and all the duties were done, had it hit her. Brian, with his laughing hazel eyes and bright smile, would never again kiss her, hold her or call her Hannah Banana. All the dreams she’d had for the future had died with him.
“Hannah.” Charlie’s tone gentled. “You okay?”
How many times during the past year had she been asked that same question? Fifty? A hundred?
She’d discovered there was only one suitable answer, preferably accompanied by a slight smile.
“I’m fine.” Taking in a breath, she expelled it slowly. “Or I will be once I get all this stuff unloaded and inside.”
“I’ll help.” Charlie didn’t wait for a response. He simply scooped up a box containing wedding china and hefted it as easily as if it held feathers.
“Thanks.” Hannah grabbed a box of her own and followed him into the house.
“Where do you want this?” he asked.
For a second, she considered telling him to just set it down in the living room, but she knew she’d have to eventually move it. “Would you mind putting it on the dining room table?”
“No problem.” He set the box on a table that sported a thin layer of dust.
Hannah stood there for a moment, studying the mahogany table and matching china hutch, relics of a bygone era. She’d want to update, that much was certain. But until she had a clear vision of how she wanted to update the interior, she’d put what was here to good use.
“Your father thought about taking these pieces with him to Florida, but Sandie was having none of it.”
Sandie, whom her father had married last year, had very definite ideas. Her dad appeared to take the woman’s bossiness in stride. Hannah figured he must see something in her. After nearly thirty years as a widower, he’d finally taken the plunge.
“In this instance, I agree with Sandie. Leaving them behind made sense. The pieces are heavy and would have cost a fortune to move.” Hannah shook her head. “Plus, I’ve seen pictures of their Florida home. These wouldn’t fit in at all.”
“Your dad still had a hard time walking away.” Charlie’s sharp-eyed gaze surveyed the dated decor. “He told me it felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind.”
Hannah understood. She’d felt the same about her furniture in Greensboro.
“What else did my dad tell you?” Hannah hadn’t even known that Charlie and her father were that well acquainted.
“That knowing you’d be living here was a comfort.”
Now, this was getting weird. Hannah lifted a hand. “Tell me again how you know my father.”
Surprise skittered across Charlie’s face. “Neighbors talk.”
“Neighbors? You don’t live around here.” Hannah struggled to recall just where Charlie lived, then decided the mental gymnastics weren’t worth the effort. That had been high school. Undoubtedly, he’d moved numerous times since then.
“My mom and I live next door.” He jerked his head toward the north. “We moved in last year.”
“You live with your mother?”
Charlie arched a dark brow. “You have a problem with that?”
“Nope.” Hannah wasn’t surprised, not really.
Just like she hadn’t been surprised when Brian had told her that Charlie had dropped out of the engineering program at MIT after two years.
Brian said it was because Charlie was so smart he was bored.
Hannah suspected too much partying. “Listen, you don’t have to help me. ”
He grinned. “What box do you want brought in next?”
With Charlie’s help, they emptied the back of her car in short order.
As she watched him carry box after box, Hannah had to admit that Charlie had retained his youthful good looks. His hair was still glossy, thick and dark and his body as muscular and lean as it had been during his football days.
Either he worked out regularly, or his day job involved a lot of lifting, because he had no problem handling any of the boxes, even ones she’d overfilled.
“That’s the last.” He set the box where she’d instructed in the main-floor bedroom. “Anything else I can help with?”
“No, thank you.” This time, Hannah’s smile came easy. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Brian was my friend. You’re my neighbor.” He cleared his throat. “If you ever need anything—”
He lifted a marker from the table and wrote a phone number on the top of the nearest box. “Call anytime, or stop over. I’m right next door.”
With a wink, he turned and strode out the door.
Hannah glanced at the number, but made no move to add it to her phone. Instead, she began unpacking, determined to put the past behind her and start a new life.
Without Brian.
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