Charlie
The following Tuesday, my parents hosted all of us for game night.
It had been a tradition when Graham and I were younger, one we’d included the Walkers in on once our families had become close. We’d all sit around the big coffee table in our living room, playing different board and card games for hours on end. Eventually, the parents would filter off into the kitchen to drink wine and bourbon and talk about more adult things, but with the kids, we were always caught up in the competitive nature of the night.
It was the first game night for Cameron.
We were kickstarting the tradition up again, and I wondered how he felt about it.
His hand was on my knee on the car ride over, but he seemed distant, lost in a thought somewhere down the road where his eyes rested. I thought about asking him what was on his mind, but the truth was I needed the silence, too.
Reese and I had shared such a powerful moment at the fundraiser, one where he let me in the way I had let him in the night on the Incline. I realized that night that he needed my friendship even more than I realized, and that he was hurting in the same way I had been for years.
Death changes us. It takes everything we thought we knew about our lives and fast pitches it out the window, shattering the glass in the process. Wind whips in, hard and cold, and throws everything we’d had neatly in place flying around the room.
No one is the same once they lose someone they love.
They just have to learn to exist in the new world, no matter how messy it is.
It took that night at the fundraiser for me to realize that having Reese’s friendship again would be a good thing — for both of us. Talking to him about Jeremiah and Derrick was easy. It was effortless. And if I could be there for him, too — if I could be one little piece of home, and someone he could talk to? Well, that’s exactly what I would be.
My parents already had the first game set up when we arrived, the coffee table littered with Monopoly pieces and money. Reese was there, too, and they all stood to greet Cameron and me. We hugged Mom and Dad first, and I watched Reese carefully as he and Cameron shook hands.
He didn’t seem as tired tonight, his eyes not as heavy as before. Maybe he was feeling better after the fundraiser. Maybe I had helped.
“How are you?” I asked when he leaned in to hug me. He smelled like bourbon and cigars, likely a result of starting the night in Dad’s study.
“You know,” he said, catching my eyes when he pulled back. “I’m feeling pretty great tonight. How are you?”
I smiled. “I’m pretty great, too.”
Cameron gently placed his arm around me, walking us over to the coffee table with a squeeze on my shoulder. He seemed a little stiff, like he didn’t want to be there at all, and I didn’t have to guess to know he was thinking about work.
He always was.
“I’m so excited for this!” Mom said once we were all seated. She brought over a homemade pitcher of sangria, pouring each of us a glass as she beamed. “We used to have game nights all the time when the kids were younger, Cameron. It was just so fun. Did you ever have game nights?”
Cameron smiled, but he still seemed distant, like he was in another world altogether that evening. “Unfortunately not. You guys will have to go easy on me.”
“Well, it won’t be us you have to worry about,” Dad said. “Reese and Charlie here will be the ones giving you a run for your money. Always were so competitive.”
“It’s okay, babe,” I said, patting Cameron’s leg. We were all sitting on the floor, and his knee touched mine. “I won’t rub it in too bad on the way home.”
“Pshhh,” Reese chimed in. “Keep dreaming, Tadpole. You’re going down.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, and Mom and Dad laughed, but Cameron just stared at Reese.
“Tadpole?”
Reese paused where he was distributing money to each of us, his eyes flicking to mine before he shrugged. “Yeah. Just an old nickname I gave Charlie when we were kids.”
“Oh, I remember that!” Dad said. “That was the day we couldn’t pay her to get out of your new pool. Remember that, Gloria?”
“She spent nearly thirteen hours in there. Her fingers were wrinkled for days,” Mom added with a laugh.
I smiled, but I watched Cameron curiously, wondering why his brows were set in a scowl, his mouth in a thin line. He didn’t laugh or smile at the story. He almost seemed annoyed by it.
“Well, let’s get this started, shall we?” Reese said, and he rolled the dice to see who would go first.
Just like it always did, time flew once the game had begun. We were all snatching up properties as fast as we could, making under-the-table deals that were technically illegal in the game, and just like always, Mom and Dad seemed more excited to watch us play than to actually have any stake in the game, themselves.
Conversation flowed easily, too — especially when Reese told us he’d picked up a gig at one of the nicest restaurants in downtown Pittsburgh. Mom insisted we all go see him play soon, and Dad made a comment about how proud his parents would have been.
Reese’s eyes caught mine when they were mentioned, and I just offered a small smile. I knew the pain in his chest that had been ignited just by the mention of their names.
The game ticked by, the sangria drained down, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that Cameron was competitive, too.
He growled with frustration as he landed on another one of Reese’s properties about an hour into the game, this one stacked with a hotel, and Reese rubbed his hands together with an evil grin.
“Indiana Ave. That’s $1,050 with a hotel.”
I clucked my tongue, nudging Cameron playfully as Mom and Dad noted that it could mean the end of the game for him. Dad even high-fived Reese, which was the last thing I saw before the game went flying.
“Bullshit.”
Cameron stood as he tossed the money at Reese, the paper hitting our game pieces still on the board and losing everyone’s place. Mom gasped, and I reached for Cameron’s wrist to calm him, but he shrugged me off.
“He’s cheating.”
“What?” I asked incredulously, looking to Reese apologetically as I stood to join Cameron. I lowered my voice, offering him a smile. “Babe, it’s just a game. Reese is playing by the rules just like all of us.”
“No, it’s bullshit. He’s been sliding himself money every time he goes to the bank to pay himself. And how many times did you pass Go without him noticing and giving you the $200?”
Cameron was fuming, his fists at his sides as he stared down at Reese. That look couldn’t just kill, it could torture and maim.
We all looked to Reese, and my stomach turned at the possibility of this blowing into something more. But he just smiled, holding up his hands from where he sat on the floor.
“Hey, man, I promise — no cheating. I just got lucky this game.”
Mom looked at Dad with eyes that begged him to do something, and I just tried to pull Cameron away, but he wouldn’t let me touch him.
“Whatever. I don’t even care. It’s just a stupid game, doesn’t actually amount to anything.”
“Why don’t we go to my study,” Dad said quickly, standing to join Cameron. He clapped him on the shoulder, both as a friendly gesture and a warning to calm down. “We can have a cigar, catch up a little.”
Cameron was still staring Reese down, nose flaring, but Reese just smiled up at him.
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said firmly, and Cameron’s eyes finally met mine.
He softened a little then, and I saw the disappointment in himself creep over his features like a slow flood. He closed his eyes, forcing a breath, and Dad clapped him on the shoulder once more before leading him back to the study.
“Well,” Mom said. “I think I’m going to make more sangria.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Reese agreed. “Charlie and I can clean this up.”
She smiled at him, collecting all of our glasses before disappearing, and then it was just the two of us.
For a moment it was quiet, Reese organizing the money back into its respective containers while I sorted the houses and hotels. I shook my head, wondering what in the world had gotten into Cameron, embarrassment heating my cheeks the longer the silence stretched between us.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “Cameron didn’t have the best home life growing up, I don’t think he ever played games like this.”
“It’s okay.”
“He gets like this in hockey, too. I don’t think he can separate it all. He just gets so caught up.”
“Charlie, it’s okay.”
“He’s not like that. Usually. He’s really so sweet and kind, and—”
“Hey.” Reese stopped counting the money, his hand folding over my forearm until I looked up at him. He gave me a small smile, squeezing my arm with understanding. “I’m not judging him, and it’s okay. He got a little worked up. I’ve been there before, many times with game night. I’m sure you remember.”
“Yes, but you were also seventeen at the time.”
“And?” He shrugged. “Competitiveness gets the best of all of us. It’s fine. Really.”
I let out a breath, nodding and thanking him with a smile. Reese let go of my arm and moved the conversation to school stuff as we finished cleaning up the game. Once it was packed away, we made our way to the kitchen.
Mom was nowhere to be found, but the fresh pitcher of sangria sat in the middle of the kitchen island. Reese poured us both a glass, handing me mine before lifting his own to his lips.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said after his first drink. “For the other night at the fundraiser. It’s been a long time since I had a moment like that.” His eyes were on his hands, and he shook his head. “I’m just glad you were there.”
I smiled. “Me, too. And hey, I was just returning the favor. Remember the Incline?” I chuckled. “That was my breaking moment.”
“I remember.”
Reese’s eyes found mine, and I let him hold my gaze a moment before I took another drink.
“Congratulations on your new gig, by the way,” I said. “I’m excited to come see you play.”
“Thank you.” Reese smiled, but it was weak. “I love teaching, don’t get me wrong, but I miss playing for me. I’m hoping this will get me back to that.”
He opened his mouth to say something more, but Cameron and Dad joined us in the kitchen before he could.
“I think I’d like to go home, if it’s okay with you,” Cameron said softly, and I could tell by the heaviness in his eyes that my dad had forced him to talk. Cameron hated to talk, and my heart ached for him, my hand reaching out for his.
“Of course. I’ll grab our coats.”
He leaned into me, wrapping me in a hug before he let me go, and I slipped into the foyer. Mom was coming down the stairs after taking a phone call, and I let her know we were leaving just as everyone else joined us from the kitchen.
We all hugged goodbye, Dad and Reese lightening the mood with jokes as we did. Cameron was quiet, but he did shake Reese’s hand with a spoken apology before we left.
“It’s all good, man. Rematch sometime.” Reese smiled, shaking Cameron’s hand firmly with a wink. “This time, you can be banker.”
Cameron forced a smile, but I knew he was tired and desperate to get out of there. I promised Mom we’d set a date for dinner soon, and with that, Cameron and I were out the door and on the road home.
The first few miles were silent, but once we were on the highway, I reached over and squeezed Cameron’s knee.
“You okay over there?”
“I’m fine.”
I nodded, knowing he wouldn’t want to talk more than what he’d already had to do with Dad. So instead, I slid my hand up the inside of his thigh, slowly trailing my fingers up until they brushed over the zipper of his jeans.
He inhaled a stiff breath, his eyes flashing to mine before they were on the road again.
I rubbed the bulge there, and Cameron groaned, squirming under my hand. I wanted him to take me again, the way he had the night after happy hour. It’d been weeks, and I knew that release would help alleviate the pressure he felt from the night.
So, when we finally made it home, I crawled on top of Cameron in the driver seat. I kissed him hard, letting him know I was there, that I wanted to take whatever it was he needed to give. He worked me to a release with his fingers under my dress, but when I was done, he wouldn’t let me do the same for him.
“I just want to go to sleep,” he said softly, kissing my lips with a gentle need. I grinded my hips, rolling against him, but his hands gripped me a little tighter. “Please.”
After a quick shower, we both laid down in bed, and Cameron finally seemed to be feeling a little better. His fingers drew circles on my shoulder and mine skated lightly over his bare chest.
“I love you,” I whispered after a moment.
He sighed, kissing my hair, and with a gentle squeeze of where he held my shoulder, he said, “I love you, too.”
He was right there, my husband, and yet he was nowhere near me at all.
I wondered if we’d ever really be in the same room ever again.
Reese
That night when I’d made it home, I propped myself up by the sliding glass door and lit a cigarette, my mind on Charlie.
It was my first real interaction with Cameron, and I’d studied him the way I used to study music as a kid. I wanted to know what made him tick, what made him falter — and both answers seemed to lie within Charlie.
He was so tuned into her, into her every move and word, but in a way that made me think he was unsure how he felt about her anymore. I couldn’t quite figure him out, but one thing was sure — I’d gotten under his skin.
Charlie couldn’t see it yet, but I already knew her feelings for Cameron were muddled. She loved him, that was a fact, but he didn’t love her the same way he used to. It bothered her. She was trying to reach him, but it was like being on the inside of a black mirror. She could see him, but he couldn’t see her — couldn’t hear her as she tried to break through to him.
Neither one of them was happy, least of all Charlie, but it wasn’t my place to show her that.
No, it was my place to be her friend, to bring her happiness in any way I could.
So, that’s what I vowed to do. I would be her friend, her best friend, and I would sit back and let her see what it could be like to be heard again, to be loved again — the way she deserved to be.
I inhaled a long drag from my cigarette, watching the smoke filter from my mouth and out the sliding glass door.
I wished I could leave her alone. I wished I cared that she was married.
But after just one night with Cameron, there was no use pretending.
I simply didn’t care.
I wanted her, and it was clear to me that Cameron didn’t — not anymore. I didn’t know how long it would take before Charlie would wake up, before she’d see she deserved more, but I knew it didn’t matter.
I would wait for her.
I would wait forever.