Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella (4 page)

CHAPTER THREE

The minutes passed silently. And though Dan was used to silence, even relished it, he felt uncomfortable with how quiet Charlie was.

She wasn’t chattering anymore. She was simply staring out the window and occasionally glancing at him. He didn’t need to see her look at him to know whenever she turned her gaze his way. He could feel her eyes upon him.

The minutes stretched out and Dan became nervous. Was she worried?

“I’ve told you about my job,” he said in an uncharacteristic bid to start a conversation. “But you haven’t told me what you did before the wedding.”

“Up until two weeks ago, I worked at the art museum. I quit because I was supposed to go on an extended honeymoon with Winslow.”

“So what are you going to do when we get back to Erie?” he asked softly.

She continued looking out the window. “I suppose I’ll go to my mother’s, at least long enough to get my purse. I’ve got some money tucked away. It will help me get back on my feet. Then I’ll have to find a job. They’ve already filled my position at the museum, and I don’t know that there’s much call anywhere else in Erie for art history majors.”

“You don’t sound enthused at the idea of seeing your mother.” Actually she sounded more miserable at the thought of going to her mother’s than she sounded when discussing her ex-fiancé or failed wedding.

“Harriet’s going to be in a tizzy,” she said with a heavy sigh.

He should just drop her off and rid himself of this growing sense of . . . what was it? Duty? Maybe. Whatever the feeling was, it was his until he somehow took care of Charlie’s problem.

“You don’t have to face her tonight. We can figure out something else.”

“I have to face her eventually. Might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.” There was resignation in that smoky voice.

“You’ll stay there?”

Charlie probably rattled a few brain cells as she shook her head ferociously. “No. I’ll get a hotel room for the night. I can afford that much.”

“Or . . .”

“Or?”

“If you’re not picky, you could stay at my place.”

He didn’t need to see her to know she was staring at him. He’d be staring at himself if he weren’t driving. He was trying to get rid of her, wasn’t he? Inviting her home wasn’t the way to go about it.

“I don’t think that would be wise,” she said softly.

Neither did he, and yet he found himself arguing, “I’ve got an apartment over the garage. It’s not fancy, but it’s more private than a hotel. My nephew goes to Mercyhurst University and uses it during the school year, but he’s home with my brother and his wife for the summer, so it’s vacant. It will need to be cleaned out, but you’re welcome to it.”

“I think that may be the longest stretch of words I’ve heard you put together.” She smiled a weary smile. “And you truly are a dream come true, but I couldn’t impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. We’ll just clean it up tomorrow and dig out some fresh sheets. You’ll be set until you figure out what to do next. Doug, my nephew, left all his furniture there, so it won’t be too bad.”

“Why?”

“Why clean sheets? Sleeping without sheets isn’t very comfortable.”

“No. Why are you doing this for me?”

“I’m discovering that I enjoy playing a white knight.” He’d almost said
your
white knight. He wasn’t the white knight type, except with Charlie. There was something about her that made him want to take care of her. Something that made him want to wipe away her pain. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but from the moment he’d seen her standing in all her finery along the side of the road, he’d felt it. If she was Cinderella, then he was her knight in somewhat-tarnished armor, at least until someone better came along.

“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until Dan released his breath that he realized he’d been holding it. He wasn’t going to lose her at the end of this road trip. She was coming home with him. The thought brought with it a feeling of overwhelming rightness, which was wrong. He was supposed to be getting rid of her.

Hell, nothing had been normal since the moment he’d seen his Cinderella hitchhiking in her wedding dress and tennis shoes.

Charlie wondered about the solemn, silent man who enjoyed playing white knight. She had a feeling he wasn’t used to the role. Charlie had met private people in the past, but Dan was a fortress unto himself.

She knew he drove a truck on mostly local runs. She knew he had a nephew, Doug, who was a senior at Mercyhurst. She knew he had kind eyes, and despite his probable denial, he had a kind heart.

Dan Martin was a puzzle that Charlie wondered if she’d ever figure out.

The last leg of the trip went too fast. Weeks, months even, would have been too fast for Charlie. She gave Dan directions to her mother’s house, but as the semi, minus its trailer, pulled alongside the curb, all she wanted to do was turn around and run.

“You don’t have to do this tonight,” he repeated, as if sensing her thoughts. “I’m sure I can spot you for anything you need.”

“I have to do this sooner or later, and you’ve done enough.” Charlie straightened her shoulders.

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No.” She turned and found herself staring into his eyes. She’d been right about his eyes being kind. They were filled with concern.

Knowing she had a champion warmed Charlie. She offered him what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Some things have to be done alone. Facing Harriet is one of them.”

“I’ll wait here.”

There was no doubt in her mind that he would wait, or that if she called, he’d rush to her side.

“Thanks,” she said as she opened the door and warily backed her way out of the cab.

“Charlie?”

She stopped. “Yes?”

“Holler if you need me.”

“You’ll jump on your charger and ride to my rescue?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I think I enjoy being a white knight.” The way he hesitated, she suspected he’d started to say something else. He frowned, as if the idea was uncomfortable.

“I’ll holler if I need you.” Feeling all the enthusiasm a woman feels when facing her yearly pap test, Charlie finished climbing down from the cab and walked slowly to her mother’s door.

She knocked.

It had always struck her as sad that she couldn’t just throw the door open and walk into her home. She’d knocked since she moved out at eighteen. No easygoing relationship, no coming home. This had never been home, but a house her mother lived in. A house in a respectable but not upper-class part of town. Charlie’s marriage to Winslow was Harriet’s stepping stone to the life she’d always wanted to live, the life she felt she was destined for. And by not marrying Winslow, Charlie had taken Harriet’s chance away from her.

The door opened, and Charlie was face-to-face with her own personal fire-breathing dragon—her mother.

“Charlotte.” Harriet Eaton’s face twisted into a frown. “So you’ve come crawling back. I told Winslow you would.”

There was no hug.

No
honey, I was worried
.

Charlie reminded herself that she hadn’t expected comforting words from her mother, but the lack of them still hurt. Maybe there were just some wishes a person couldn’t outgrow?

But outgrow or not, Charlie wasn’t going to be intimidated or pushed around. No more going with the flow. From now on she was paddling her own boat.

“Mother.” She moved into the house, but just within the hallway and left the door open.

“Charlotte. Where were you? What were you thinking?”

Before Charlie could answer either question, Harriet went on, “Now, don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got all the arrangements in place. The entire affair will be forgiven and everyone will chalk it up to cold feet. I have the church rescheduled for August eighth. I couldn’t get the club again on such short notice, but I talked to Winslow and we agreed that a nice informal reception on his lawn would be beautiful and appropriate under the circumstances. His family pulled some strings and—”

“Mother.”

Her mother didn’t even take a breath. “—the club will cater the reception. You’ve eaten there often enough this last year to know they can handle anything.”

“Mother.”

Her mother finally paused to take a breath, ready to wind up and start again. Charlie grabbed her chance. “Harriet!”

It was the sound of her name that finally brought her mother to a screeching halt. “What?”

Harriet’s gaze moved beyond Charlie and seemed to get stuck there.

Charlie turned around and saw her hero hadn’t left her to deal with her personal dragon on her own.

Her mother glared at Dan. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dan. Dan Martin. I drove Charlie—”

Her mother dismissed Dan and returned to Charlie. “Charlotte, what are you doing with this . . . this man?”

Seeing her mother’s obvious annoyance, Charlie felt a hint of amusement.

“A friend,” Charlie hastily supplied. “A good friend. Dan was kind enough to give me a lift.”

Time to make her escape.

Past time.

“I’d like my purse and my bags.”

Harriet’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why, Charlotte, Winslow has your bags. They’re still packed in the back of his car, ready for your honeymoon. The poor man. He was ruined. Just ruined.”

“I’m sure he was. Though I doubt it was a broken heart.”

“How can you say that? You should have seen him when you ran out of the ceremony.”

“Mother, Winslow isn’t brokenhearted.” Remembering last night’s argument, she was positive about that much. “He’s more embarrassed than anything. And no one ever died of embarrassment.”

Dan cleared his throat. “Ma’am, would it be possible for you to get Charlie—”

Harriet frowned and corrected him. “Charlotte.”

“—Charlie,” he repeated, “her purse? Unlike good old Winslow, I work for my living, and I have to get back.”

“Back to where?”

“I work for Imperial Shipping.”

“Doing?”

“I drive a truck, ma’am.” He nodded at the big rig in front of the house.

Harriet’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the man who picked up Charlotte?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer to Charlie, as if his presence could shield her from her mother’s ire. “Charlie’s bag, ma’am?”

Harriet dismissed him and turned her full attention back to Charlie. “Charlotte. You drove away with this ruffian?”

“Yes, Mother. Dan was kind enough to pick me up and offer me a roof over my head, since it seems I’m homeless for the moment.”

Harriet gave a delicate little sniff. “Your old room is here and you’re welcome to it until after the wedding. Thank you, Mr. Martin. I’ll see to it Winslow compensates you for your trouble. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your returning his runaway bride.”

“Charlie has already compensated me.” Dan said with just the right inflection to set off her mother, and then he added insult to injury by wrapping his arms around Charlie, holding her tight.

Harriet huffed and puffed a moment, and her face turned a brilliant shade of red. “Charlotte will be staying with me.”

“Mother, I will be leaving with Dan as soon as you get me my purse. Winslow can just leave my luggage with you and I’ll get it later.”

“What has gotten into you, Charlotte?” Harriet demanded.

“Winslow isn’t right for me. I don’t love him. I tried to tell you, tried to tell you both.” She paused a moment, then in the spirit of honesty added, “It was my fault, really. If I hadn’t been such a pushover, we could have avoided this entire debacle.”

“Winslow is your dream man,” Harriet argued.

“No, Winslow is your dream man. I tried to get out of the wedding earlier, but you wouldn’t listen. Neither would he. Finally I realized I didn’t need either of you to approve. Marrying Winslow would have been wrong, for both of us.”

“You’re really staying with him?” Harriet managed to make the word
him
sound like some sort of deadly virus, designed to attack and destroy everything in its path.

“Yes, Mother. I’m staying with him.”

“This is going to kill Winslow.” Harriet opened the foyer closet and retrieved Charlie’s purse.

Charlie didn’t comment on Winslow’s brokenhearted death. She took the purse. “Good-bye, Mother. Please cancel all your plans. There’s not going to be a wedding. Ever.”

“This is going to kill Winslow,” Harriet repeated.

“It might have dented his ego, but it’s not going to dent his heart.”

Charlie allowed Dan to lead her from the house.

“So that’s your mom?” he asked in a whisper.

“Home sweet home.” Charlie knew she should protest Dan’s arm, which was still wrapped around her shoulder, but she didn’t. Despite the warm summer evening, she was cold—cold to the bone. His touch gave her enough heat to go on.

“Do you need to do anything else tonight?” he asked softly.

“I’ve got so much to do, but I’m not going to get any of it done tonight. If the offer is still good, I’ll take you up on a place to stay, at least until I can find something else. But if you’ve changed your mind, you can just drop me at a hotel.”

“No hotels. You’ll stay at my place tonight, and tomorrow we’ll clean out Doug’s apartment for you.” He paused. “You can trust me.”