Play It Again, Charlie (61 page)

“I know, Nana. But I wanted... .” Just a little bit more for once. He'd wanted Will to stay, even knowing that Charlie wasn't who Will thought he was.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel at the memory of her choked protest and his quick goodbye after that. He looked over at Will, not for the first time, but like he had been for the past hour. Will was alternating between typing on his phone and staring out the window.

He wasn't speaking, and the silence was twisting Charlie's stomach in knots. Will should have had volumes to say about everything, and instead there was just his music filling the car. Charlie wondered if he was trying to think of a nice way to break things off or if he'd bother. He was so new to this. He might just cut and run. It was the easiest way, after all.

Charlie focused back on the road, aware that they'd be back in town in a few minutes and that might be all the time he had left. He wasn't sure if Will pretending for a few more days would be worse than ending it now, but either way he knew he'd been stupid to bring Will out there and let Nana give him the wrong idea. Charlie would never have made him take on his family too.

That he couldn't stop wanting it was his own fault. He cleared his throat, and Will stopped moving.

“We'll be back soon.” It was a stupid thing to say. “What are we listening to? It's nice.” Will's music had gotten older and moodier during the drive back. He could hear the static in the old recordings as much as the ache in each singer's voice.

Will didn't look up from his phone, though he wasn't typing.

“Surprised that I really do have good taste?” Will's voice still had that edge, even when he lowered it and shook his head. “What you must think of me.”

“What?” Charlie's heart kicked, and he frowned at the oncoming headlights and took a second to glance over. If they hadn't been gripping the wheel so tight, his hands would have been shaking. “You want to know what I think of you?”

“No, I'm pretty sure I already know what you think of me, Charlie.” Will put down his phone only to pick it up again when it chimed. Whatever his message was, it made him let out a small, angry breath.

Charlie almost pulled over at the panicked, tight feeling his chest. He swallowed but couldn't seem to wet his mouth. “What?” Will made that angry noise again, and Charlie realized that Will was furious under all that distance. His voice was rough and only quiet for another moment before it started to rise.

“She must have thought I was an idiot. No, she
knew
I was an idiot the second she figured out that I didn't know anything. And why didn't I know anything? Because you couldn't— ” Will stopped and audibly swallowed. “You couldn't tell me anything. I know I don't know much about this stuff, but you should have said something. Anything. Instead she thought... . I can't even blame her.”

Will was moving again, shifting his feet like he wanted to run, and Charlie slowed down, letting cars pass him. He wasn't sure if he was trying to hold onto Will or make it easier for him to go, and hated the fear that wouldn't let him stop the car and end it now.

“What did you think I would say?” Will turned on him before Charlie could manage words, only to push out a sigh and lean back. “Your family is amazing. Your grandmother, that fabulous little girl, that house. Your ‘farmhouse'.” He was too quiet for sarcasm, but Charlie's pulse wouldn't seem to slow down.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Will's phone chimed again. Charlie had to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Going out?” He already knew the answer and didn't want to hear it. “I'm sorry she made you sit through all that,” he blurted out when Will looked at him and instantly felt hot all over. It was no use fighting it, and yet he couldn't seem to help himself from trying. He'd wanted so much for things with Will to be different.

“Sorry?” He wasn't sure if Will hadn't heard or if Will was throwing his word back at him. Neither made sense. “You're
sorry
she
made
me— ?” Once again Will cut himself off, and when he was talking again it was in a low, flat voice. “Because I wouldn't possibly be interested in anything like that?”

Charlie shook his head.

“She has ideas... .”

Will snorted. “Yeah, she made that clear.” He shrugged. “I don't blame her,” he said again in the next moment and turned to look out the window. “Those pictures said it all. You're... you're their whole world.
Literally
. You're in the center of every frame, Charlie. The man. God.”

Charlie was burning to hear that out loud, though it wasn't exactly true.

“They just rely on me sometimes to— ” he started to explain because he knew his sisters were too much, but Will was staring at the city lights like he found them fascinating.

“And you didn't think to mention that?” Will interrupted. He moved his shoulders in another shrug, this one heavy or tired or dismissive, Charlie couldn't tell without taking his eyes off the road. “I don't know
anything
. I can't even... of
course
I didn't belong there.”

Charlie came too close to another car and changed lines. He was shaking; he could feel it. Thank God Will's eyes weren't on him. He licked his lips.

“You don't need to belong there,” he offered desperately, and Will sat up sharply. He took a long, long breath and moved his phone around in one hand. “Alicia liked you.” Will just shook his head and continued to stare at his phone. His tone was unconvinced.

“Next you'll be telling me your Nana did, after that speech she gave me.” His laugh was like something out of a play. Charlie nearly stopped the car.

“Will.”

For once all it did to Will to hear his name was make him even quieter.

“Don't sweat it, Charlie. She was amazing. My family is— was— nothing like that. I... . She loves you so much. It... must have hurt her to see you like that. In the hospital, in those pictures, you looked like it hurt so much, and just seeing you like that was like being hurt too.” He put a hand to his chest but didn't seem aware that he was doing it. “She'd do anything to make you feel better. I got it.”

Will was holding tight to his phone. “It looked scary, Charlie.”

“It wasn't that bad.” It was an automatic response, but even if it hadn't been, Charlie would have said it. It earned him a sideways look, too fast to read.

“
He
didn't stay, though, did he? He didn't help you. I didn't see Mark in any of those pictures.”

“I told you it was over before then.”

“Was it really?” He didn't understand why Will was asking or what Mark had to do with any of this. He would have left even without Charlie's accident.

They were in town. When they hit a red light, Charlie looked over. Will was breathing hard and hitting buttons on his phone without glancing at him. The restlessness in his fingers said enough. This had been too much all at once for him. It was one more reason Charlie didn't like to talk about his accident.

“It doesn't matter. It wasn't as bad as you're thinking,” he tried but then had to start driving again.

“Fuck,” Will said out of nowhere. “I'm betting it's
worse
than what I'm thinking, Charlie. I bet it was agony. I bet some days it's
still
agony. And you won't... . Fuck.”

“You don't need to worry.” His throat felt raw, and the words came out wrong, pleading and hoarse. Will jerked his head up to stare at him. “It's a lot to ask of anyone. I wouldn't expect you to take care of me.”

“Of course not.” Will's hands were going now, waving at the air, or out at the traffic, before Will reined them in and dropped his voice again. “Not Will. Will hangs out with criminals. Will parties. Will can't even be trusted to know you raised your entire fucking family.” His hands twitched, and Will reached for his phone like it was a lifeline. “You know what? I don't want to talk about it anymore. What's the point?”

“The point?” The band around his chest was getting tighter and tighter with every breath, to hear Will echoing his thoughts. Will's phone chimed.

“The point.” Will twisted in his seat, restless again, maybe in a hurry to get out of the car. It was a Saturday night. He probably had plans, or places to go when things got too unpleasant. He was older than he would have been when Charlie had been in the hospital, but still young. Charlie could imagine him then, however, and how quickly he would have left. Feeding someone and helping them to the bathroom wasn't something most people signed up for, and Will didn't deserve to get tied down.

When Charlie ended up back in the hospital to get his hip replaced as he probably would someday, he wouldn't want to see Will tired and scared and getting frustrated. If he wanted to leave, maybe his grandmother was right and he should do it now.

“The point is that I didn't know. That I still don't. Because... .”

“Will... .”

“I don't blame you. You're right. I'm not that guy, right? Mark wasn't that guy and he was, like, almost as perfect as you.”

“You aren't Mark!” Charlie wasn't sure where the streak of anger came from, but it was hot in his voice and it made Will flinch. “Whatever Nana said to you, it doesn't matter. You don't have to do any of that. You can do whatever you want.”

“And what the hell is that? What do I want, Charlie?” He couldn't tell if Will was pissed or genuinely asking. There weren't any signs, no dramatic gestures, no quotes, just silence and his tense, distant posture. His phone rang while Charlie was frozen, a familiar show tune, but Will didn't move to answer it.

It was Saturday night, Charlie thought again. He was running out of time.

“Tell me. Say it, soldier.” It was Will's turn for a commanding tone, something gruff and stern and not at all playful. Charlie couldn't think of an answer, not in time. Will flipped over his phone. “Well, that says a lot. So what then?
So long, farewell, auf
— ”

Somewhere in between one slow heartbeat and the next Charlie realized that he'd stopped the car, that they were home and he was staring at his hands, which were still holding tight to the parking brake. His voice broke before he realized he was the one speaking.

“Hiding behind another movie quote?” he snapped, almost frightened at the anger underneath the question. Will actually saying goodbye was Will leaving. Will leaving for good. He teased, but when he went quiet it meant he was done, he was finally, really, truly gone.

Charlie swallowed, but the anger was still there. It mingled with the fear, making him sick. “It's not all dancing in the moonlight and Natalie Wood.”

“I... know that.” Will was looking at him at last, staring with wide eyes Charlie couldn't look back into, but his hesitation made his doubts pretty damn obvious.

“Do you?” It was Charlie's turn to sound gruff and miserable. “What if my doctors decide to replace my hip soon, or just operate again? They have easier surgeries now, but it would still mean at least a month of me helpless, leaning on you for everything.” He knew how that felt, from both sides of the hospital bed. “Those black and white movies you love don't show when it's boring or ugly.” Or painful. Charlie choked on the thought.

Will was suddenly scowling and shaking his head. “That's not... . It's not like that. I don't know if I could... .” He wavered, then shook his head again. “No, you've already decided I'd leave.”

It was like getting hit all over again. “Everyone does, Will.” No matter what he might hope. But he finally looked over when Will stiffened.

“What is that? Your nice Charlie way of telling me I ought to go now and not waste any more time?

“Oh,” he added a second later when Charlie didn't move. Charlie dropped his head again, stared straight ahead, and waited for the pain to stop, as it eventually would, and for Will to do what he'd been itching to do for over an hour now and leave.

“Will,” he said anyway, when Will turned off the music and reached for his things. Will stopped.

“It's okay, Charlie. I get it. It's fine.” His voice was cool. Charlie raised his head and saw the tiny, careful smile he'd seen on Will's face once before.

Will's phone rang again, the same show tune about his Sunday best.

“I should go,” he offered after another pause. He was looking over at Charlie's face and barely breathing, but when the song started in one more time, he jerked away and opened the car door. “I know you'll worry, so don't, okay? I'll double knot my shoelaces and follow the buddy system and brush after every meal.” The smile was still in place, but he had to swallow. When Charlie moved, he stood up and Charlie couldn't see his face anymore. “Bye, Charlie,” Will called out softly.

Then he closed the door without a grand line or big exit and walked off in the direction of the street. Charlie watched until he turned the corner at the next block and didn't see him look back, no matter how much he hoped he would.

Six days later, and the sidewalk was radiating so much heat that Charlie thought the walk from his car to his door might kill him. It should have spurred him to faster movement, but instead he was creeping like the old man he was, grunting as he hefted his bag over one shoulder and wincing when he had to bend down to grab his cane.

It was no use pretending he didn't need it today. By Wednesday the stiff, sleepless nights were coming back to haunt him, and it was either use the cane or not move at all. The pills he'd taken sometime earlier had long since worn off, not that they'd done much good. Nor would they, according to his doctor, who had prescribed more after Charlie's call but then added that it would probably be better simply to take time off, since he sounded stressed.

Charlie wasn't stressed. His week had been no busier than usual. Classes, calls from his sisters, and reheating a ton of leftover tamales. He simply wasn't sleeping.

He still hadn't managed to get to the pharmacy to get the order filled. Tomorrow was Saturday. He could take his time if he went then, maybe head to the grocery store as well, since Sam needed food. He could spend the rest of the day lying in bed.

Or not. Charlie felt his phone buzz and pulled it from his pocket. He picked up the cane and leaned against his car. “Anita.” He hadn't bothered with a jacket, and the car body was scorching. Sweat dripped down his neck, but he sighed instead of wiping it away.