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Authors: Haley Michelle Howard

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BOOK: What About Charlie?
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She pulled out a wad of envelopes. Turning them over, she saw they were letters she’d written to her father. Pulling a letter out, she unfolded it.

 

****

 

Evan sighed as he walked towards the house, glad to be getting out of the cold wind and getting into the warm farmhouse out of the frigid air. He was beat, more emotionally than physically. It had been a hard three days being the emotional support Charlie needed while taking care of her father’s estate business. He had taken inventory of the farm equipment and had consulted with Mr. Harvey, a neighboring farmer, about what should be done with the corn and soybean crops already in the field. Charlie was adamant about not selling the farm, so decisions had to be made about the crops in the field and future plantings. He thought a fair agreement had been reached with Mr. Harvey. Charlie would lease him the land to farm, while keeping possession of the house. Doing that she could pay property taxes and upkeep on the house while allowing her to keep the farm, her last link to her parents.

The situation had drained him emotionally, and more than once he thought about the day when he would have to go through this very situation with his own parents. It was inevitable. The thought made him feel sad and empty. Though he wasn’t particularly close with them, he loved them very much. He needed to call them more despite their recriminations that he should marry, that he should move back to Boston, that he should become a member of the family medical practice.

Evan wanted no part of it. He didn’t want to marry. At least that’s what he told his parents. But in reality, he longed to find a woman who would love him, who would care for him, and who would help build a life for them together. So far, he hadn’t found that person.

As for moving back to Boston, that was out of the question. He’d come to St. Louis to get out of his family’s shadow and had no intention of moving back. He had built up a good practice and was happy in St. Louis.

Walking into the living room, Evan heard faint sobs. Following the sound, he found Charlie in the den sitting on the sofa, papers and envelopes spread around her. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tears slid from her cheeks.

He immediately went to her, moving papers so he could sit beside her on the couch.
Lightly touching her cheek he said, “Is there anything I can do, Charlie?”
She mutely shook her head.
“I was hoping that you’d come to an acceptance of your father’s passing. You have to do that to heal.”

“I know, Evan. I have accepted that he’s gone, and I know he’s not coming back. But look at this,” she pointed to the envelopes beside her on the couch and to ones in front of her on the coffee table. “They’re filled with money, Evan. Money I sent him to buy his heart medicine. He never used the money, Evan. He never bought it. I’ve looked all through the house and even called the pharmacy in town. He had no prescription. I am so mad at him, Evan. He could have prevented this.”

Evan sighed, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Some people prefer to go in their own way, Charlie,” he said softly. “You did all you could do by sending him money to buy the medication. No one could make him take it. It was his decision. You mustn’t blame yourself.”

Moving out of Evan’s grasp, she fixed her gaze on him. “There’s more to it than that,” she said in a weak, recriminating voice, feeling an overpowering need to exercise her guilt. “After I got here Saturday, we had a big fight. You see he was always trying to play matchmaker. Well, he tried fixing me up with William.” At Evan’s blank gaze she clarified, “The young man at the funeral.” At Evan’s nod, she continued. “Anyway, daddy was furious when I wanted no part of it. We said all kinds of hurtful things to each other. He demanded that I move back here. I refused. He said I disgraced him, that I was thinking more about myself instead of him. Then he stormed out. That was the last time I saw him alive, Evan. I can’t help but think that our argument was the cause of his heart attack.” Charlie looked away from Evan, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

Taking her hand in his, he said, “Oh, Charlie. With your dad not taking his medication like he should have been, it was only a matter of time. You know that. As far as the argument, that’s family. That’s normal.”

She nodded. “I know. He and I have argued before -especially about his matchmaking. I just wish we could have made up, that he could have heard me tell him I loved him one last time and I could have heard him say the same thing to me.”

“I know, Charlie. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. It’s not orderly or neat. Often it’s confusing and messy, but you can’t quit living, you can’t live and keep going back through your mind saying ‘I should have done this or that’.

“My dad and I have gotten into several major arguments ourselves, especially when I decided to move to St. Louis. I was supposed to stay in Boston and join the family practice with my dad and brother. It was expected of me to do that. But I wanted so much to live my own life. And to do that, I had to make my own decisions, not let my father make them for me. It was very difficult for him to accept that, but he did in the end. Though whenever I talk to him, he still brings up the prospect about my moving back to Boston. I fear that will be inevitable. But I’m glad I stood up to him and stood up for myself. It was important for me to let him know I was an adult and that I made my own decisions. He respected me much more for that. I think he was actually proud of me, too. I always knew and I still know that though we may have harsh words, we still love each other. That doesn’t change. I believe the reason why we argue so heatedly at times is because we love each other so much.”

Charlie listened to Evan, amazed that he had revealed so much. He rarely, if ever, spoke of his family except in passing. He was a private person, and Charlie respected that. She felt warm and, yes, special, that he had confided in her. Charlie had a feeling a new facet of their relationship was being created.

He made sense; there was no use in assigning blame. She loved her father and he loved her despite their differences. That was a given, no matter what. And that small thought was indeed a big comfort.

Chapter 5

 

While Charlie hummed, she prepared the evening meal. It was the first time in days that she’d hummed. A calm acceptance had come over her and she no longer cried like she had those first few days after her father’s passing. He was gone and there was nothing she could do. She still felt sadness at times, especially when old memories of her father popped in her mind. She couldn’t go anywhere in the house without seeing something reminding her of him. That was natural. Evan suggested that she turn those sad memories into happy ones. Surprisingly, it was working.

She no longer thought of his worn recliner as a place where he would no longer sit. She now thought of it as a place where he had sat and relaxed, watching TV into the wee hours of the morning. Often, he had fallen asleep and she’d gently covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t get cold. She could remember as a young girl after having a bad dream climbing onto his lap as he sat in that chair. He’d hugged her and told her everything would be all right. In minutes, she had been back asleep. Those memories were worth more than anything in the world to her. She was so fortunate to have them!

Indeed, she was turning her sadness into happiness, making lemonade out of lemons as her father had always said. She would always miss Henry, but Evan was right. She had to keep on living. And that’s what she intended to do.

Thinking of Evan, she smiled. She was so fortunate to have a friend like him, and she was so happy that he had come. But her mood suddenly dampened when she realized he was leaving tomorrow. The house would be so lonely without him. She would miss him.

Even after all their years of friendship, however, they had never been completely alone like this. Sure, they’d watched baseball games at the ballpark and played pinball together on his pinball machine; they had pizza at her apartment while they watched football on TV.

But this was different. It was more intimate. It was almost as if they were a couple, like they were married, doing the mundane everyday things that married couples did together. To be truthful, it was kind of nice. The thought unsettled her.

Her feelings for Evan were starting to tumble out of control. She no longer looked at him as a friend. A deep desire to want to get to know him intimately seemed to pop out of nowhere. When she looked at his lips, she now wondered what they tasted like, how it would feel to have them on her neck, her breasts. When he hugged her, all she could think of was running her fingers through the soft light brown hair on his chest.

Last night he had asked if she needed him to sleep with her. She had been so very tempted to say yes. She loved going to sleep with Evan by her side and waking up with him curled around her. The way they fit together, his warmth and tenderness – it all felt so right. But she knew they couldn’t continue on this path any longer. It would only complicate their relationship. Her feelings were one sided, and she had no intention of ruining their friendship.

Not for the first time, she felt like she was going crazy. Only a few weeks ago she’d been consoling him over his breakup with his girlfriend Liza and now she was wishing that she was his girlfriend.

Charlie shook her head. Everything about him seemed to affect her differently. His smile, which she’d been the recipient of hundreds of times, now set her on fire, causing her heart to hammer against her chest, leaving her strangely breathless. That had never happened before. And how come she never noticed how attractive the tiny lines that fanned out from his eyes when he smiled were? Or the way his eyes, when he looked at her, were all warm and soft? But it was more than his smile, more than his attractiveness. What warmed Charlie’s heart the most was his deep concern for her. It was frightening and yet comforting to think that he cared so much for her. No other man besides her father had ever cared for her like Evan.

Charlie knew she was on dangerous ground having these feelings for him. He was her best friend, the person always there for her, her buddy. Could she risk their friendship by confessing her feelings? Charlie knew the answer was an unequivocal no. Evan didn’t look at her that way. Yes, he cared for her. There was no doubt. But he cared for her as a friend, and she was turning his comfort and concern into something more than it really was. Charlie feverishly hoped that things would get back to normal and all this craziness would soon be a faint memory.

 

****

 

Standing on the back porch, Evan held a cup of hot coffee in his hand as he watched the sun rise. He was heading back to St. Louis today, and he could honestly say he was loath to do so. His career, his work was his life. But today he was having mixed feelings about leaving this place and Charlie.

Charlie was doing much better. She was stronger. Every now and again he saw sadness in her eyes, but that was to be expected. Now, she was sleeping soundly at night without him. She was getting back to being Charlie again, laughing and smiling. She was going to be all right.

To be honest, his trepidation about leaving wasn’t merely worry about Charlie’s emotional well being. It was much more. Truth be told, he was going to miss her. Their relationship had taken a turn, at least on his end, over the past few days. They had been constantly together – eating together, cleaning the kitchen together, even sleeping together. It had gravitated from mere friendship to something beyond. He could sense it and he had a feeling Charlie did too. On several occasions, he had found her staring at him, her beautiful green eyes filled with what he thought to be desire. Then, when she noticed him looking at her, she quickly blinked it away, acting as if nothing had been there at all.

It was crazy, he thought. He’d been friends, best friends with her for the past five years. She’d been his baseball and hockey buddy - the person with whom he went to rock concerts and played Frisbee with in the park on warm summer days. They were buddies.

Now when he saw her, he thought of her soft, full breasts and how they felt in his hand. (He’d awoken one morning to find that he’d been cupping one with his hand in his sleep.) He would often imagine lightly running his tongue over her full, rosy lips. He looked forward to seeing her bright, bewitching smile directed at him. Charlie made him laugh and smile; she let him be himself. She was indeed a rare woman. A treasure. On several different occasions, he actually thought about taking her on a date - to a nice show and dinner afterwards. It was all so crazy!

He thanked God that she could now sleep at night. For the life of him, he didn’t think he could sleep with her another night without touching her even more than he already had.

The thought made him start. Where had these feelings come from? How come they seemed to pounce on him out of nowhere? He needed to get this under control. Ruining their friendship was the last thing he wanted.

It didn’t help that, in these past few days, he began to wonder if this was what it was like to be married. Granted they’d been living together in less than desirable circumstances, but the question was there just the same. Was it because his emotions were running high? That would be the logical explanation, but his little voice said it was something much more. Over the years he’d come to listen to his little voice. More often than not, it was right.

He suspected marriage was like this if one was with the right person. The thought jolted him. What was he thinking? He couldn’t be saying Charlie was the right person. She was his best friend.

No. All that was happening to him was a little wonder lust, like a kid wanting to taste a piece of forbidden candy. Soon the temptation would pass and he would be back to thinking of Charlie as his friend and nothing more.

“Evan?”

He turned to find Charlie standing in the doorway, her hair all tussled, her eyes still swollen from sleep. He enjoyed seeing her like that. She was as natural and sweet and fresh as a spring wildflower.

BOOK: What About Charlie?
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