Seasons of Sorrow (5 page)

Her friend smiled. “Thank me by calling Greg.”

Charlotte hesitated and Brandy rolled her eyes.

“Fine. At least text the poor guy. He thinks that you hate him.”

“Okay, Mother. I’ll make up with my friend.”

Brandy squeezed her hand. “You know it’s for the best.”

Charlotte nodded and headed toward the stairs. She went into her bedroom and picked up her phone. She wanted to call Gregory like Brandy suggested but she didn’t know what to say. It felt as though a space had developed between them and she didn’t know how to bridge the gap. Charlotte always considered Greg to be Derek’s friend, though he had become hers as well during the time he dated Brandy in college. It was just that Greg and Derek’s fathers had been friends and owned their company together. The two men had raised their boys together, more like family than friends. Charlotte always assumed that Greg’s loyalty would lie with her husband more so than with her.

She opened the messaging center on her phone and selected Greg’s name. After staring at the blank screen for several seconds, she decided to be honest.

Taking a deep breath, she began to type.

I miss you and I’m sorry for yelling at you.

Almost immediately, he responded.

I miss u 2. How are u doing?

Charlotte hated that question. She’d heard it at least twelve times a day since Adam passed. She decided to be honest. Greg was a muscular, fully grown man. He could handle honesty.

Tired of that damn question.

His response was a frowny face, which made Charlotte smirk. Greg did not seem like the kind of man who used emoji, but he did with her and Brandy.

If you want to drop by tomorrow I promise not to yell at you again.

Again, Greg’s response was immediate.

I’ll be by right after work. Around 6.

Charlotte felt tears well up in her eyes at the supportiveness he demonstrated. He seemed completely unfazed by her emotional ups and downs and her outbursts.

See you then
, she typed.
Goodnight.

Brandy would have made fun of her use of proper grammar in texts, but Charlotte had always been a writer and couldn’t stand to butcher the English language.

Night.
Try to rest.

She sighed and placed the phone back on her nightstand. Despite everything, Charlotte knew she was blessed to have such wonderful friends. Without them she would be completely and utterly lost.

The next evening, Brandy and Greg arrived together. All the awkwardness Charlotte felt disappeared as soon as they came in and Greg walked to her to pull her into a tight hug. Tears welled in her eyes again. It seemed that she cried constantly since Adam died.

Greg’s voice rumbled in his chest under her ear. “Hi, babe.”

Charlotte wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure she would ever laugh with true joy again. In college she used to tease Greg that he called all the girls
babe
because he couldn’t remember their names. Not that he dated a lot, but they girls flocked to him anyway.

Greg wasn’t classically handsome. Instead, he just had an air about him that stated he was confident and in control. That kind of self-assurance drew college girls like a tractor beam. It didn’t hurt that he had beautiful grey eyes, firm lips, and an amazing, sculpted body that he honed in the gym several times a week. Now that he was in his mid-thirties, that confidence and that body were coupled with a level of sophistication that made him even more attractive.

It also made Charlotte want to lean on him. The weight of her loss was so heavy that the breadth of his shoulders tempted her to give her grief to Greg, even if for a short time. Instead, she pulled out of his arms and wiped her face.

“I’m glad you came,” she said, and she meant it. She needed the love and support of her two closest friends.

“If you ever need anything, I’m here, whether you ask for help or not.”

Charlotte gave him a small smile. It was the first time that it didn’t feel forced or as though the change in her expression would cause her skin to crack like glass.

“Thank you.” She looked over at Brandy. “And thank you, too, Brandy. I would never have made it through the last two weeks without either of you.”

Greg took her hand in his. “I just wanted to say that I regret not telling you about Derek.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, Brandy was right. If either of you had told me, I wouldn’t have believed it. Even if I had, I would have probably been angry with you, even though it was undeserved. In situation like that, the messenger isn’t just shot, they’re burnt to a crisp.”

He nodded and released her fingers. Charlotte studied him.

“Have you talked to Derek?” she asked.

Greg shrugged. “Not really. He’s been working with clients in Fort Worth this week so he hasn’t been in the office much. I think he scheduled his week with the intention of avoiding me.”

Charlotte frowned at him. “Why?”

An expression she didn’t recognize crossed Greg’s face. Later she would realize it was pure rage. Since Greg rarely lost his temper, she didn’t understand what she was seeing.

“Derek knows that I am extremely unhappy with him right now. He put me between a rock and a hard place. Then he didn’t even have the decency to act like he gave a shit. He was smart to avoid me.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say at his harsh words. The awkwardness was back and she looked to Brandy for help.

“Okay, Greg. It’s your turn to help me cook dinner. But first you have to open a bottle of wine,” Brandy said as she took off her suit jacket.

He sighed but moved to do as she said. Charlotte gave Brandy a grateful look as they all went into the kitchen.

Charlotte sat at the bar, drinking a glass of crisp white wine, while her friends made dinner. It felt nice to sit and listen to the two of them bicker good-naturedly. It reminded her of their college years when Greg spent as much time at their apartment as they did. The three of them would sit around, drinking wine or beer, and watch movies or play games. Though he was three years older than they, and in grad school back then, Greg still seemed to enjoy their company.

The memories were good ones and helped to lighten her mood for a little while. She managed to join in on the conversation while they ate dinner. Then they all sat on the couch to watch Brandy’s favorite network that had all the chefs and cooking shows on it. Greg complained almost the entire time. Finally Brandy promised to make the meal that they just watched being prepared for all of them that weekend. That shut him up because, as much as he bitched, the man loved good Mexican food, and the chef had prepared a fantastic spread of Latin American dishes.

Charlotte had almost laughed. When she realized that she was smiling widely, the moment of lightness died and tears filled her eyes. This time, instead of Brandy holding her while she sobbed, it was Greg.

Somehow, having his strong shoulder to lean on made the pain a more bearable, as though she could give him the entirety of her pain and he would carry it for her for a little while.

Chapter Four

W
hile each day seemed to pass at a snail’s pace, Charlotte was shocked to wake up one morning and realize that it was the one month anniversary of Adam’s death. The day began with a crying jag. They were coming less and less often, but it was a hard hit to realize that this was the first month of hundreds that she wouldn’t have her little boy.

The jag had left her with a stuffy nose, puffy eyes, and a sore throat. A hot shower and the steam had helped but she was still feeling out of sorts. She tried to call Derek but only got his voice mail. He had texted her a few times and, about a week after he told her he wanted a divorce, he had come by to pick up the rest of his things.

It was strange. She wasn’t even hurt about his betrayal. She didn’t understand how she could feel so distant from the man she had been married to for years and the father of her child. Derek had never been demonstrative and affectionate but she always believed that he cared for her. Still, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d told her he loved her. It had to have been at least a year since she’d heard the words from him.

With the numbness brought on by grief, Charlotte realized that Derek hadn’t loved her in a very long time and she had been too blind to see. She wondered why he even agreed to have a child together, though she wouldn’t trade her time with her son for anything.

At ten, the doorbell rang. Dressed in a fluffy, soft robe, she went downstairs to find Greg standing on her doorstep in jeans and a sweater under his leather jacket.

“What’s going on?” she asked hoarsely.

He came in and removed his coat. “I knew today would be hard on you. Brandy wanted to be here, but she had a meeting she couldn’t miss.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. It touched her deeply that her friends were so considerate and supportive. She knew that her eyes were still red and swollen and her voice was raspy from crying, and that Greg understood what she had been doing that morning.

“Have you talked to Derek?”

Greg’s eyes changed, the gray of his pupils darkening in anger. “No.”

Charlotte ducked her head. “I tried to call him this morning to see if he was going to Adam’s grave today. I left a message.”

Greg’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t know.”

She knew something was wrong, but she was afraid to ask. He seemed close to losing it, and the Greg she knew rarely lost his temper.

Instead, Charlotte played it safe. “I’ll go get dressed. I would like to go to the cemetery today. You don’t have to come if you…” she trailed off as the expression on his face changed. His jaw softened and his eyes were lighter again.

“Of course I’m coming with you.” He cleared his throat and blinked, obviously fighting back emotion. “I miss him too.”

That surprised her. He always seemed to enjoy the baby, but Charlotte thought that it was more of an obligatory affection rather than true pleasure.

“Okay. I’m going to make some coffee before I finish getting ready. Do you want a cup?” she asked.

“I’ll make us both a cup. You go get dressed.” He paused. “You haven’t eaten have you?”

Charlotte sighed. If she didn’t know better, she would think Brandy dressed in Greg’s clothes and came over in his stead.

“I’ll eat some toast or something.” When Greg started to argue, she just shook her head vehemently. “I won’t be able to handle anything heavier.”

His face tightened slightly. “Okay, but have a banana or yogurt with it.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll go get ready.”

Greg started toward the kitchen. “I’ll bring your coffee when it’s ready.”

She nodded and headed up the stairs to her room. Charlotte put on underwear and a pair of faded skinny jeans. She topped them with a huge University of Texas sweatshirt that she had stolen from Greg during their college years. It was soft from years of washing and wear. She topped the jeans with a pair of warm knee-high suede boots that were lined with faux fur.

Charlotte was drying her hair when Greg appeared in the bathroom door with a steaming mug in his hand. She gave him a nod of thanks when he set it on the counter in front of her. He disappeared through the door as she took a sip of the coffee. Light and sweet, just as she liked it.