Waking Charley Vaughan (20 page)

“Look, Charley, about that…I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe this all just happened to soon,” her side of the conversation was completely silent. “Maybe you just need time to process everything. It’s not fair of me to come in and try to push for something you’re not ready for.”

I heard her take a small breath. Almost like what I’d heard the night I met her. I couldn’t tell if she was crying or not. I hoped not.

“But, I--” she started, “I really like you, Brennan,” she said softly.

“I really like you, too, Charley. Really. That’s why I want you to take some time. Figuring out what you want. Figure out what makes
you
happy. When you find out who that Charley is, I’d love to take her out to whatever kind of movie she really likes,” I smiled to myself.

“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “Yeah…OK…sure,” she said. “I should go, then. Let you get back to whatever.”

“Wait, Charley,” I started, “I don’t mean…” but it was too late. She’d hung up.

I tried three times to call her back before giving up. I thought of texting her, but in my opinion, text messages only made miscommunications worse. I refused to talk about something serious by way of a text message. It’s something one of the douche crew guys would have done.

The whole drive home I was kicking myself, but I wasn’t sure why. I realized that our conversation hadn’t gone well, and that Charley had missed my point, but what I couldn’t figure out was what it was she had thought I was saying. What had made her so sad? It wasn’t like I’d said I didn’t want to talk to her anymore. I just meant that we should cool off on the kissing and the dates until she got some things figured out. I decided to run the conversation by Adam, and Sara, who I was sure would be at the apartment even at three in the morning. She and Adam had been spending a lot of time together lately. Talk about moving quickly. They’d only been on two dates by the time Sara started sleeping over. I didn’t mind that much, though. Sara was a huge improvement over the girls Adam typically brought back to our place.

When I got to our apartment, I was still preoccupied with thoughts of my conversation with Charley. I walked in the front door and made it approximately two steps before tumbling over the large metal obstruction in my path.

“Sonofabitch!” I yelled.

“Brennan?” Adam yelled back, sounding confused.

“Who the hell else has a key, dumbass?” I replied as I picked myself up and put the bike in a safer position.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t think you’d be home tonight. Thought you’d be out with Charley.”

“Yeah, well, plans changed,” I said. My brother emerged from his bedroom. The fact that he was clad only in boxers told me that Sara was in there with him. He usually wore sweats to bed, except for the past couple of nights that  Sara spent here. I didn’t try very hard to think about why that was.

“What happened?” he asked.

“We had a fight,” I sighed as I went to the refrigerator to grab some water.

“Who did?” he asked, motioning for me to toss him a bottle. I did and he caught it before going to sit on the couch.

“Charley and I. It wasn’t even a big fight. It just blew up, and now I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Hey, Sara!” Adam yelled from his place on the couch. “Come here, babe! Brennan needs your help.”

I was a little nervous about what Sara would emerge from Adam’s bedroom wearing. I should have known better. She came into the living room fully covered in some sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. It was all Adam’s, but she was covered. In all honesty, it suited her.

“Hey, Brennan,” she said sleepily. “What’s going on?” She walked over and sat down next to Adam on the couch. I opted for the chair across from them.

“He and Charley had a fight,” Adam answered for me. Sara gasped.

“What happened?!” she was instantly concerned.

“We just had a fight, I don’t know. She just kept acting like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop with me. Like, she was waiting for me to start treating her like crap. I got mad.” I stopped to think for a minute. “That wasn’t even what started it. She was just giving up on the bakery, and I told her that I thought that was what she was doing, and she got all upset. Then we got into the whole ‘I don’t need another favor to repay’ thing, and that was when I kind of lost my cool.”

“Oh no,” Sara said. “When was that?”

“Earlier today. Before my shift at the pub,” I explained.

“Have you talked to her since then?” she asked.

“Yeah. That’s part of the problem,” I told her. “I was just trying to tell her that I understood if she needed to take things slower. She’s been through a lot. I was trying to tell her that I got it, and that we could slow things down until she had time to figure herself out a little. I don’t know what she thought I meant, but she didn’t seem to take it well. She hung up and wouldn’t answer my calls.”

Adam and Sara exchanged a look. For two people who had only been seeing each other a short time, they had an annoying ability to think the exact same thing at the exact same time. It made conversations with them incredibly obnoxious at times.

“What
exactly
did you say?” Sara asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I just said something about how I’d love to take Charley out to see a movie whenever she figures out who Charley is…and what kind of movies she likes,” I said, hearing how it sounded for the first time. “I was joking!” I added, “I wasn’t meaning to sound like a dick. I…” I stopped, looking at Sara for advice.

“What did she say?” Sara asked me.

“She said, ‘Oh OK. I should let you go then,’ or something like that. I honestly can’t remember exactly.”

Sara winced. “She thinks you blew her off.”

“What?” I almost yelled. “Why does she think that?”

“Uh, Brennan,” Adam interjected, “Think about. That kind of sounds like a blow off line.”

“Oh dammit!” I yelled. “That’s
not
what I meant! Why won’t she just answer her phone and let me explain?”

“She’s probably embarrassed,” Sara said, shrugging.

“Shit,” I sighed. “That’s not what I meant,” I repeated. More to myself than anyone else.

“I can try to talk to her,” Sara offered. “I don’t know if she’ll listen or not, but I can try.”

“No,” I told her, “I made the mess. I should clean it up. I’ll just have to go talk to her.”

“Well, here’s a tip,” Sara said. “Don’t go right away. I know that seems like the best thing to do, but just give her some time to cool off and think. Maybe she’ll realize it was a misunderstanding and be more willing to listen to you when you go to talk to her.”

I thought about what Sara was saying. Could I handle this gnawing feeling in my gut for a couple of days?

“Just trust me,” Sara pleaded.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll give it a couple of days.

***

I managed to wait a full two days before going to Charley’s apartment to talk to her. I hadn’t wanted to wait, but Sara kept insisting that it was the right thing to do. She had talked to Charley the next day and told me that Charley sounded a little down. Sara had tried to explain the misunderstanding, but Charley didn’t want to talk about it. She’d ended up making some excuse to hang up. Sara hadn’t been able to get a hold of her since then.

I had finally decided that morning that this whole thing was stupid. Charley was sitting at home feeling embarrassed or rejected or whatever for no reason. I wasn’t rejecting her, I was pretty sure I was in love with her. I hadn’t admitted it to anyone yet, I’d barely admitted it to myself, but I had no other way to explain what I felt when I was with Charley. Or when I looked at Charley, or when I thought about Charley.

Even though I was anxious to see her, I decided to walk to her place from the pub. It wasn’t very far, and I needed the time to clear my head and form my apology.

On the way to her apartment, I made a quick stop at the bookstore. Charley didn't seem like the kind of girl who liked floral apologies. I decided to go with humor. I picked up a Spanish to English dictionary and actually managed to find a Spanish soap opera digest. At least, that's what it looked like. With those items in tow, I made one last stop at a liquor store to get her a six pack of what had quickly become her favorite beer.

The almost-realization that I was in love with Charley didn’t stop the sick feeling that had been in my stomach since our fight. I thought it was the fear of losing her that made me sick. She was an amazing girl...a girl I could spend a long time getting to know. I just hoped I hadn't blown my chances. I worried the whole walk to her apartment. It wasn't until I saw the beat up red door that I began to relax slightly. Each flight of stairs I climbed brought me more joy and less worry. When I finally reached her door my smile was involuntary. I knocked loudly.

"Charley!" I called. "It’s me...Brennan. Open up."

There was no response.  I knocked again. "Charley?"  Still nothing. I pulled out my phone. I dialed her number and it went straight to her voice inviting me to leave a message. I sighed. It was worth a shot.

"It’s Brennan," I said into the phone.  "Charley, I’m so sorry. I’m here at your apartment but you aren't home. At least I don't think you are...anyway…call me back OK?"

I hung up feeling disappointed. On my way down the stairs, I ran into Charley’s upstairs neighbor" Mrs. Arrington.  She looked at me for a second before seeming to make the connection.

"Aren't you Charley’s friend?" she asked.

"Yeah," I told her. "I was stopping by to see her, but I must have missed her.”

"You’re a couple days late honey," she said shaking her head.

"Charley left a couple days ago with a suitcase. Told me she’d be out of town for a while. Then said she’d be back for the rest of her stuff. "

"What?" I asked. It didn't make any sense. "Where did she go?" I asked.

Mrs. Arrington shrugged. "Didn’t say. Somewhere out of town I’m guessing. Said she had a flight to catch."

That knocked the wind out of me. She was gone? Just like that? One fight. One month, more hours together than I could count, and one fight: and she was gone.

Mrs. Arrington offered to deliver the things for me. She looked at me strangely when she inspected them, but didn't say anything. It didn't matter much if she delivered them or not. I was pretty sure my chances were shot.

I thanked Mrs. Arrington and continued downstairs. When I was outside I sat on the steps and pulled out my phone.  This time I dialed Sara’s number.

"Thank God," was her greeting. "Did you talk to her? How did it go? What did she say? What did you say? Did she tell you why she hasn’t been answering my calls?” Sara was in her usual 90 mile a minute talking mode.

“Sara,” I said seriously, “She’s gone.”

“She’s
what?!”
Sara spat. “What do you mean she’s
gone?”

“Just what I said, Sara. She’s gone. Mrs. Arrington just told me that Charley left with a suitcase two days ago. Told her she’d be back for the rest of her stuff later. She was on her way to the airport. Did she say
anything
to you about leaving?”

“God, no!” Sara said, sounding appalled. I have no idea where she is. Or where she is going. I can’t believe she is just going to
leave.
” Sara sounded upset. She had every right to be. It was one thing to take off and not tell me, but Sara? Sara had been there for Charley for longer than I had. She deserved a phone call, even if I didn’t.

“I don’t know,” I said, frustrated. “I think I really blew this one.”

CHAPTER 15 – CHARLEY

“Look, Codey,” I said into my cell phone as I walked toward the baggage claim carousel, “I know this isn’t convenient. I’m sorry, but I
need
you to do this for me.
Please.
”

“Fine,” I heard my younger sister say into my ear as I pushed my way into the crowd of passengers to grab my bag. “I swear to God, Charley, this better be important,” she threatened. She said “God” with the same thick drawl that our mother did. It sounded much like a dramatic televangelist might say it. “Gawd”.

“Thank you Codey!”

“Whatever, Chuck,” she said, knowing I hated the nickname Dad had given me.

‘Fair enough,’ I thought.

“Just wait outside for five minutes and if you don’t see her, you can just leave,” I said, hustling toward the doors to the airport. I wasn’t sure this was going to work. But I was praying that it would.

Ten minutes later, I saw my sister Codey pull in the drop off lane at the Gulfport International Airport, and park the car she now shared with Casey. In Rebecca Vaughan fashion, it was new, shiny, and likely overpriced.  She was parked ahead of me, and I didn’t think she’d seen me. I walked up to the car quickly and wrapped on the passenger side window.