The Space Between Us (31 page)

Chapter
Eleven

Charlie

   Even though I felt silly about it, I had to take a few deep breaths before I could walk up to the Carmichaels’ door.  How long had it been since I was in this house?  It was winter break my sophomore year of college.  Like a habit, I reached for the ring hanging around my neck and made sure it was hidden beneath the fabric of my dress.  Once I was sure it was secure, I reached up to knock on the door.  After a few moments, it opened and I looked at a woman who I loved like a mother for so many years.

   “Charlie,” she sighed, as if saying my name brought her some sort of relief.  I smiled because I was so happy to see her.  She opened her arms and I floated right into them, not even trying to pretend like I didn’t need to feel her comfort.
  “I’m so glad to see you,” she said after she’d held me for a few moments.  I pulled away and smiled at her, genuinely, which was something I was still getting used to.

   “It’s really good to see you too,
Roberta” I said.

   “I am so sorry about your fathe
r, Charlie.  He was a good man and he loved you so much.”

   “Thank you.  I appreciate that.”

   “Well, come on in.  Everyone is in the family room,” she said, leading me towards the room where I spent much of my adolescent years.

   I entered the large room and felt a warm sense of familiarity
wash over me.  The room had newer furniture, but the walls were the same sage green color they were so many years ago.  A large flat-screen television hung on one of the walls, an obvious update from the box TV Asher and I used to watch scary movies on late into Saturday nights.

   Reeve and her husband were sitting on a couch, her two children at he
r feet.  Asher’s dad talked to Riley about something.  It sounded like sports talk, so I understood why Reeve had tuned out and was making faces at Ryder.

  
Asher leaned against one of the walls, but stood up straight when I entered.  Our eyes met and I saw a smile come across his face.  Before I could stop myself I returned it.  He walked over to me and I noticed his mother moved away, heading into the kitchen.

   “Charlie,” he said as he came to stop a foot or two in front of me.  “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

   I shrugged my shoulders.

   “I decided it would be stupid of me to turn down a friendship.  It seems I could use a friend or two,” I said, my eyes flitti
ng over to Reeve, who gave me a smile in return.

   “Well, I’m glad you could make it.”

   “Thank you for the flowers too.  They are beautiful.”  I saw his eyes sparkle and I tried to keep the blushing warmth from reaching my face.

   “Anytime,” he said calmly.

   “I think I’ll go see if your mom needs help with anything,” I said quietly.  I turned and let my memory carry me to the kitchen.  I walked in and saw Mrs. Carmichael standing at an island in the middle of the kitchen.

   “Wow.  You remodeled your
kitchen.  It looks amazing.”  Dark granite matched well with the black cabinets. The darkness of the counters and cabinets were contrasted against the beige walls.

   “It only took me ten years to convince Adam to let me do it,” she said with a laugh.  “It was a pain in the butt.  It took two months longer than it was supposed to and I’ll never do it again, but I do love this kitchen,” she said wistfully as she looked around the room.

   “Can I help you with anything?”  I smiled at her, wanting her to give me something to do to keep me occupied.

   “Sure.  If you’d like to prepare the salad, everything is out on the counter already.  I would just need you to chop and toss.”

   “I think I can handle that.”  I started chopping up vegetables and placing them in the large bowl placed out on the countertop.  We worked in companionable silence for a few minutes before she spoke up.

   “Charlie,” I
heard the pity in her voice and it made me cringe the way she said my name, saturated with sorrow.  “I feel so terrible for everything you’ve been through.”  I could tell she stopped what she was doing and turned towards me.  I stopped chopping vegetables, but didn’t turn to look at her in return.  I didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes. It would only make it hurt more.  “I understand why you kept your distance after you and Asher broke up, but I just want you to know that you can still, always, come to me for anything.  Adam and I have always thought of you as a daughter.  Even though Asher never shared the details involved in your break-up, I understand you wanted your space.”

   I heard her voice tremble and my heart clenched in my chest at her distress.  I turned to see her frowning, obviously trying very hard not to cry and not doing a very good job.  I walked over to her and felt her embrace me.  It had been so long since I’d had a mom hug.  I relaxed into her chest and felt her running her hand over my hair, trying to soothe me, her maternal instinct kicking in I suppose.  After I felt like I had soaked up all of her motherliness, I stepped back and gave her a weak smile.

   “I never meant to hurt your feelings by staying away, Roberta.  I just couldn’t be around Asher.  I hope you understand that.”

   “Oh, I do, Sweetie.  I do.  Adam and I both understand it was a rough situation.”  She paused and I could see her debating with herself over something in her mind.  “Do you mind if I ask what happened?  Asher would never tell us.”

   I was at a loss for words for a moment.  I didn’t really know how to respond.  I hadn’t told anyone besides my own father about the miscarriage and had only just told Asher about losing twins.  I wasn’t prepared to tell this woman who I loved for a good majority of my life that I couldn’t hold on to her grandbabies.  I don’t think those were words I would ever want to say to her.  However, a small part of me believed she deserved to know.

   “Roberta, if it’s all the same to you, I think I will let Asher tell you.  I’ll make sure he knows I’m ok with it.”  Her eyes went from curious to gentle understanding and I knew she would let me off the hook.
  I hoped she could tell that I wouldn’t be able to make it through the story without a breakdown.

   “Of course, Sweetie.  I’m just so glad you’re here tonight.” 
She squeezed my arm like she didn’t want to let go, didn’t want me to slip away.  I wanted to exist here just as much as she wanted me to.

   Dinner was pleasant and comfortable.  I felt at ease with Asher’s family and with Reeve’s as well.  I loved watching Reeve parent.  It wasn’t something I had ever really witnessed.  Growing up together she’d been so impulsive and irrational, and to see her have what seemed to be an untapped reservoir of patience boggled my mind.  Her husband was a winner, taking on his share of the parental duties that came with dining with two small children.  They worked as a team and seemed to anticipate what the other needed.  Together they seemed unstoppable.
 

   I found myself sneaking glances at Asher, wondering what he was thinking when he saw the children being difficult or adorable.  Did he wish he had his own?  Was he glad he was still childless?  His eyes met mine and my mind was put at ease when I saw regret staring back at me.  I looked back to his mother and smiled, pretending that I had been paying attention to the conversation.

   When dinner was over, I helped Roberta clear the table and I felt a warm hand grip my elbow.

   “Charlie,” his smooth and familiar
voice was so close to my ear.  I could feel the heat from his chest radiating off him.  “Will you come outside with me for a little while?  I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you alone yet.  I’d like to.”

   I turned to look up at him and nodded, words not cooperating with me at that moment.
  His hand never left my elbow as he led me towards the sliding glass door and out onto the back porch.  When his hand finally released me, I felt the sharp sting of cold where he’d touched me and rubbed my hand over it.  His touch still caused my heart to speed up, still caused my words to abandon me, still made the swallow-sized butterflies twirl around in my stomach.  The fact that he still affected me wasn’t lost on me, but I tried to ignore it, push past it.  I didn’t want to think about him, and his hands, or his touch.

   He motioned for me to take a seat in one of the patio chairs.  After I was seated and comfortable he took the chair right next to me.

   “It meant a lot to my mom that you came tonight.”  He stated.

   “It was really good to see her.”  I paused, wondering the best way to broach the sensitive subject.  “Can I ask you something?”

   “Anything.”  The sincerity in his voice made my heart ache a little.

   “Why didn’t you tell your mom what happened?  About the pregnancy?  The miscarriage?”  I turned to look at him, even though common sense told me I should refrain from it.

   He thought about my question for a moment and then took a deep breath before he answered.  “Honestly, I was ashamed of the way I treated you.  Even before you left, even before you lost the babies, I felt terrible about what had happened.”

   Then why did you sleep with that girl?
That was all I could think.  The deep emotion I could feel in his voice, his true remorse and regret, it didn’t fit with what I saw with my own eyes.  He couldn’t have felt badly about everything that had happened and then jumped into bed with someone else.  It just didn’t make sense.  But I wasn’t about to bring it up.  I didn’t need an explanation from him.  It didn’t matter.  I tried to redirect my thoughts.

   “Don’t you think she deserves to know?  They would have been her grandchildren.  She has a right to mourn them too.”

   “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”  His voice went quiet with contemplation.  “At first I didn’t want to have to explain how poorly I’d treated you.  Then, after a while, it seemed like telling her would cause her unnecessary pain.”

   “She asked me what had happened between us when I was helping with dinner.  I told her
she should hear it from you.”  I stared at him for a moment, trying to really grasp the forgiveness I had given him, the forgiveness I had allowed and welcomed.  I looked away from him, hoping my voice didn’t waiver.  “You don’t have to tell her what happened between us.  Not the details.  But she should know about the babies.”

   “You’re right.  Of course you’re right.”

   I looked over at him and tried to give him a reassuring smile. It probably came across as something more like confusion.  I
was
confused.

   “So what will you do now?”  Asher asked.

   “You mean right now?” I asked, confused.

   He laughed a little, his always familiar chuckle sounded older and deeper.  “No, I mean, what’s next for you, like, in life?”

   I shrugged, not sure how to answer.  I wasn’t even sure I knew the answer.

   “No shrugging, Bit.  Words.”  My breath came to a stop in my lungs like a freight train colliding with a tanker.  My heart exploded in my chest
, or might as well have with the pain I felt shooting through all of my limbs.  I hadn’t heard him call me that in thirteen years. He caressed my nickname with his voice and the sharp pains of longing took my breath away.  “Shit, I’m sorry, Charlie.  I didn’t mean to call you that.  I’m sorry.”

   I swallowed the pain along with all the memories coming ba
ck to me. I pushed them down, pushed them back.  I wanted to seem unaffected.  I wanted nothing more than
to be
unaffected.  I was a good pretender.

   “It’s ok, Asher.  No big deal.”  I took a breath, plowing onwards.  “I think I’m gonna stick around for a few more days and get my father’s house all sorted out and then head back to New York.”

   “You have a life waiting for you back in New York?”  He didn’t look me in the eye as he asked the question, but I gathered he was asking a deeper question than he led on.

   “You could say that.”  I didn’t want him to think I was some
loser woman who hid behind her art and made a man believe she loved him just to keep the perpetual loneliness at bay.  Even though that’s exactly what I was.  He was silent in response.  Perhaps my cold answer had pushed him even farther away.  “I think I should head home Asher.  Please make sure you tell your parents what they deserve to know.  Thank you for inviting me to dinner.  I had a lovely time.”  I stood up and all but ran into the house.  I hastily said goodbye to his parents and to Reeve and her husband, making false promises to call and meet up before I left.

I had no intention of seeing these people again.

Chapter Twelve

Asher

  
Going to see her was taking a big risk.  She made it pretty clear to me the night before that she didn’t have any desire to continue seeing me while she was still in town.  There was a part of me that understood her hesitation, a part of me that respected it.  I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable and I didn’t want to push her.  But I did want to hold her and be near her.  She seemed to only be pieces of herself and I wanted to put her back together.  I wanted to fix her.  Although, it was difficult knowing that I was the reason she was broken in the first place.

   At the park, in the gazebo, we’d shared our demons.  I’d admitted how sorry I was for the way I reacted to the pregnanc
y and she’d admitted keeping from me that there were two babies.  Forgiving her of that was simple.  It wasn’t even necessary.  She didn’t need my forgiveness because she did nothing wrong.  I pushed her away and gave her no reason to seek me out to tell me anything.

   She also forgave
me and that was more than I deserved.  And even though she said the words and I felt she meant them, something was still off.  Going to her, I was risking her finally telling me to leave her alone.  But I had no other choice.  Until she looked me in the eye and told me to go, I was going to try to be near her.

   I rang the doorbell of her father’s house and tried not to smile knowing how much it irritated her.  I heard her voice from beyond the door, yelling loudly.

   “Asher Carmichael, if I open this door and see you standing there I’m going to kill you.”  Her voice got louder as she came closer to the door.  She swung the door open and I just shrugged my shoulders at her and pushed the flowers I had brought towards her.  She eyed the flowers, but didn’t reach for them.  “Why must you ring my doorbell?”  She asked, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes at me.

   “Because I know it irritates you,” I said simply, hoping she would remember how many times in the past I had rang that same doorbell.  It was my signature move.  She always knew it was me when it rang and I was hoping the nostalgia would soften her towards my unannounced visit.  She eyed me for a moment and I could tell she was trying to hide a small smile.  I motioned towards the flowers again.  “These are for you.”  Again, she looked at them, but didn’t take them from me.

   “Asher, you don’t need to buy me flowers.”

   “I know I don’t
need
to, but I wanted to.  I felt bad about the way our evening ended last night.”

   “
I’m fine.  I was just tired.”

   “I know you have a lot going on,
but do you think I could at least come in for a little while?”  She took a step backwards and opened the door wide, allowing me to come in.  I handed her the flowers as I walked past her.  “They’re purple hyacinths, meant to represent remorse and apology.”

   “You don’t have to apologize anymore, Asher.  We’ve been through this already.”

   “Yes, but I don’t think you’ve really forgiven me.”  I put my hand up in front of her when she opened her mouth to argue.  “You’re forgetting that I know you, Charlie.  I know you better than anyone probably.  I know you’re still having a hard time letting everything go – understandably.  I just want to be here and try to help you.  That’s all.”

   She looked a little nervous and that made me feel better.  I didn’t want her to be comfortable a
round me.  I wanted her on edge. I wanted her unsure.  Some part of me wanted her to be just as confused as I was.  I wanted her to be conflicted with herself because in the end that meant I still had some chance to win her back.

   “What can I help you with?”

   “Don’t you have to work?”

   I walked past her into the living room that was looking bare.  “I have some vacation time saved up.  Also, I’m a partner.  What’s Phil gonna do?  Fire me?”

   “You shouldn’t be spending your vacation time packing up your ex-girlfriend’s father’s house.”  She closed the door and moved around me to start working on some boxes, her back to me.

   “You’ve never been just a girlfriend, Charlie.”  She stilled at my words and I saw shoulders sag a little as she exhaled, taking in my words.

   “You can help me pack up the living room,” she said quietly.  Good.  I grabbed a box and silently started putting Charles’ things away, carefully packing them so nothing broke.  We worked quietly but every once in a while I looked over at her, trying not to get caught sneaking glances.  Since that first image of her at my office all those days ago, I was still surprised by my attraction to her.  It never wavered.  She was thin.  She was sad.  She was frail.  But she was beautiful.  Today she was simply wearing a pair of jeans and tee shirt, but she looked comfortable and that was alluring.  She looked normal.  She looked like she could be someone’s wife, someone’s everything, packing up their own house.

   It was also hard to ignore her hair.

   I would never, ever, deny my attraction to her hair.  From day one it was my kryptonite.  I was so glad to see it was still long, still fell around her, still caught in the wind when she turned her head.  Today it was in a braid.  It was practical.  She packed boxes, moving around, bending and lifting, she didn’t need hair in her way.  But I wanted to pull the tie from her hair and run my hands through its silky lengths.  The braid was not my favorite.