Saving Charlie (Stories of Serendipity Book 9) (12 page)

Charlie chewed on her bottom lip, enjoying the mild weather at the outdoor estate auction. Her piece was coming up soon, and she was watching for it. Les had gone in search of concessions for his ever-grumbling belly, and she was stuck here with her thoughts, the auctioneer’s voice a monotonous drone in the background.

Why were the nightmares back? Was it because of the strange beds? The first one had been because of the motel room, for sure. Maybe the guy manhandling her at the wedding had spurred on the other one? Or the whole belt incident with Les? She didn’t know, but between the nightmares and her increasing feelings for Les, she had to see her shrinkage as soon as she got back to town.

Her phone rang, giving her a much-needed reprieve from her mind. Even an argument with Justin would be a welcome distraction right now. She glanced up and saw the stained glass piece was still a couple of lots behind the one currently up, so she had a little time.

“Hello?”

“Hey Charlie.”

Suddenly breathless, she unconsciously smoothed out her pants and took a step away from the crowd.

“Hi, Adam.” Could he hear how her heart pounded in her throat when she spoke?

“I wanted to call and let you know that Trent is graduating in two weeks. He’s magna cum laude and got a full ride to University of Texas’s engineering program. I want you to come see him.”

I want you to come see him.
The words bounced around in her head like a ping pong ball.

“Does he want me there?”

A pause. That was telling. “I don’t know.”

“What have you told him about me, Adam?” She bit her lip hard, tasting blood.

Adam’s soothing voice washed over her in calming waves, like it always had. “I told him a long time ago, you would come around when you were ready. He knows you had a troubled youth, and that you love him very much, but you were sick, and that when you are better, you’ll come back to him.” More memories came racing into her mind, and Charlie slammed a steel door on them, spinning the lock. Not here, not now…

“Has he asked about me? Lately?”

A sigh. “Not really. But he’s happy and busy. I would like you to come see him.” A quiet pause. “He looks so much like you.” She didn’t know what to say to that. “Are you? Better?” He sounded hesitant, as if he were afraid of the answer.

“Yes, I’m better, but…if he’s happy with you and Sarah, why mess with a good thing?” Sarah. She was perfect. She had a master’s degree in nursing, loved Adam with everything she had, and raised Charlie’s son as her own, as well as two other girls with Adam. She’d told herself a long time ago to let her have him, they would be happy together.

“Because you’re his mother, and I thought, if you were better, you might want to come see your son. You don’t have to come to the party afterward, although you’re invited. But just come see Trent. You don’t even have to talk to him or anything. I think it would be good for you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. This trip to such a different place had managed to bring back so many memories for her. Of all places, why had a road trip to California brought all this back to the surface? She knew the answers to that question. Les’s kindness reminded her constantly of Adam. The motel rooms he’d insisted on. The way she had to constantly remind herself she didn’t deserve someone like Les, because Adam’s actions so long ago had shown her that.

“Always looking out for me, Adam.” Her voice was choked, and she sucked the blood off her quivering lip.

“You’re my girl, Charlie. I’ll always do what I can. Please come.”

“I’ll think about it. Okay?”

“That’s all I can ask.”

They hung up and Charlie sank to the ground clutching her phone, as the memories washed through her. Adam had gotten her out of that house full of frat-boys in training and taken her to the cops, who’d in turn taken her to a safe house for prostitutes escaping pimps. Later, she’d been installed in a mental-health wing of the local charity hospital. That was not a fun place. She’d spent a lot of time with Adam and his family during those times, discovering how fucked up her life really was compared to a normal family.

She tricked Adam into getting her pregnant, telling him she was on the pill, which she wasn’t. Somehow, with all the psychiatric sessions, and group homes, and medical visits, her pill prescription had slipped between the cracks. The psychotropics made it through though. With a vengeance. It was a miracle above all others that Trent had been born normal and healthy.

While her body was coping with a pregnancy, and trying to metabolize her sudden med requirements, Adam’s parents had freaked about the entire thing, and Adam had done the right thing. Of course, her parents had signed the waiver from jail, because CPS and the courts were shuffling paperwork on her custodial rights, and the whole thing had been a media sensation: High school hero falls in love with his distressed damsel. He’d graduated from high school and taken college classes while working to support her and the baby. But the baby had taken too much of his attention. She hated Trent for keeping Adam from spending time with her alone. So she’d done what she thought she needed to do to get his attention, and drove him out of her life forever.

Signing over her parental rights hadn’t been a difficult choice, and from what she’d understood, Adam’s parents had taken on the majority of Trent’s upbringing in the beginning, while he was finishing school. Then he’d met Sarah, and they’d all started the perfect life together.

Adam had been the nicest person she’d ever known and she’d ruined it. She’d begged for attention from him any way her unbalanced sixteen-year-old fucked-up brain knew. She’d used drugs, gotten drunk, cut herself—the final straw was an attempt at suicide. She’d failed on purpose, the quintessential cliché, but she was supposed to be watching their baby while he worked in the evenings to support them. She’d endangered Trent. So Adam had taken the baby and left her.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her ruminations. Les.

“Are you okay?” His eye was swollen shut and purple after the altercation with the drunk at the wedding, but concern etched his features nonetheless.

It seemed like he was always asking her if she was okay. And of course, she would lie like a rug to keep from telling him the truth. She swiped ineffectively at her eyes, and with a panic remembered the stained glass she was here for. Her eyes searched for it, to no avail. It had been sold.

“No. I missed it.”

“The stained glass?”

“Yeah.” Dejected, she turned and stomped off toward her truck. “Fuck!”

“Hey. It’s okay…”

“Les!” She spun around toward him. “Stop talking and take me someplace to get drunk. Now!” The entire trip was wasted. All the miles, the emotions coming to the surface, this… this thing with Les. All for nothing. Not a damn thing.

His face broke into a wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

The average life expectancy of a child in “the life” is seven years.

—www.refugeoflight.org

Les struggled to keep up with Charlie as they hit a strip of after-hours establishments in LA. She’d decided to go ahead and drive into the city for the night. So they’d found a motel, dropped of the trailer, changed clothes, and now she was on the prowl for some unnamed level of intoxication, and he’d been ordered to “keep up or stay at the motel.”

He wasn’t about to let her go off to get drunk alone. Something had happened at the auction. He wondered if it was Justin, although he’d never gotten her this upset before. He certainly wasn’t worth the emotion she was spewing. Charlie had put back on the black dress she’d worn to the wedding and Les recognized the armor she put on when she exposed her tattoos. The dress was gorgeous, but it showed off her sleeves of tattoos, as well as glimpses of the ones on her thighs, including his name there. It was her way of telling the world to fuck off. He admired the duality of her nature, her rough-edged femininity, dueling with the tomboy exterior.

As she drove now, he watched her face carefully. When he asked her what they were doing, she’d simply reply, “Getting fucked up.” Her need to change though, indicated a desire for more, and Les wondered if she was planning on getting laid too. She wore a mask of determination on her face, but he knew her face well enough by now to see the vulnerability the mask was trying to hide.

The first place they’d stopped at was a complete dive, enabling Charlie to drink three shots of gut-rot whiskey with a beer chaser for under twenty bucks. After that, her mood improved, much to Les’s relief. She’d snapped at him so much every time he’d brought up the stained glass that he’d decided to just surprise her with it. Later.

Apparently, her eyes were opened after Charlie finished the beer because she looked at Les and said, “I’m not sure they even wash the glasses here. Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him out the door, which was fine.

After that, they walked down the block to a more upscale type place; it had the words,
The Lounge
in red neon across the top of the building. Charlie turned to him, one hand on her hips. “Ten bucks says it’s a titty bar.”

“With pasties. They probably have zoning restrictions here.” Les knew she was hiding something dark under her lighthearted façade, but he was playing along. For whatever reason, she thought she needed this, and he wasn’t going to let her get drunk alone here, of all places.

“In LA? Come on!” She slapped his chest playfully, and Les relished this care-free side of her, although he knew it was spurred on by the phone call she’d gotten at the auction. He wondered who it could be She’d said she wouldn’t answer anymore of Justin’s calls, and to his knowledge, she hadn’t.

He laughed when they walked in. “Looks like you owe me ten bucks.” She turned to him suggestively and slid the bill into his shirt pocket, lingering there, teasing his nipple through the fabric.

He was instantly hard.

“Charlie…” he warned.

She slid him a sly smile and winked. “Oopsie. Didn’t mean to do that.” It was a side of Charlie he hadn’t seen much of.

Ah hell, if she was a touchy-feely drunk, he was in some deep shit tonight.

It wasn’t an exotic dancing place, but it certainly had lots of dancing. And it was exotic. It was a dark place, not at all like the Gin he was accustomed to, with its sheet metal roofing and exposed stud walls. Everything here was painted dark purple, and lots of black vinyl covered everything. He hadn’t seen a club with cages for dancing in it outside of the movies, and the women who danced in these cages were clad so scantily, they looked like they were exotic dancers. There was so much bumping and grinding on the dance floor, even Les was blushing.

Charlie was unfazed, grabbing his arm and leading him to a table. Just as he was about to lower himself into the chair, his pocket buzzed. Looking at the ID, he found his friend Brent was calling.

“Will you be okay for a minute? I’ll be right back. Order me something.” She nodded, he thought. It was sort of hard to tell with her bouncing to the beat, but her wide smile was breath-taking and he took it as a yes.

He answered the phone with a “hold on a minute…” and walked around trying to find a quiet place to take the call. He ended up down a hallway full of doors leading off it, and scrunched himself into a corner. Putting the phone back up to his ear, he said, “I’m so glad to hear a buddy’s voice. How’s it going, man?”

“Pretty good, how’s your trip?”

“Wild.”

“Sounds like it. Where are you?”

“At a club in LA. You remember Sweetness? From Charlie’s Recycled Restoration?”

“That secretary you’ve been talking about?”

“Yeah, turns out, she’s Charlie, short for Charlotte.” He gave Brent the run-down of the events of the past week as quickly as he could, and waited for sage advice. He got a low whistle.

“Sounds like you’re in deep, brother.”

“You can say that again. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never climbed walls this high before, and something tells me she’s different, but I can’t get her to let me in to find out.”

“Season tickets on the fifty yard line of the Cowboys, or sex with Charlie?” This was a familiar either/or game they used to play when they were kids to gauge the level of devotion to their many girls.