At ten o’clock Sunday morning, Charlotte swerved to a stop in front of Bree’s house, only at that point realizing that their plans had been made for eleven. She cursed under her breath, then, alarmed, glanced up at the rearview mirror to see if Audrey had caught any of Mommy’s potty talk. But Audrey was sound asleep. Of course. Daytime was her favorite time to sleep. She was nocturnal, Charlotte had come to realize. And Charlotte was running on empty, and clearly not thinking straight.
She eyed the clock on the dashboard, deciding if she should use the hour to grab a coffee in town or take a nap in the car, when she heard her name being called, and there was Bree, standing in the doorway, clutching a steaming mug in both hands, beckoning her to hurry up already.
Charlotte blinked in confusion. Maybe it had been ten o’clock after all. Right. Another thing to add to her resolutions. Starting today, she’d keep a calendar. And this time she wouldn’t just say she was going to keep it; this time she would actually stick with it. Cross things off and everything. She could hardly wait.
Buoyed by the thought of getting things back under control, she killed the engine. Audrey didn’t stir as she released the car seat from its base and hooked it over her forearm. The walk up the stone path to Bree’s front door was short, and despite the flurries that were starting to dance in the wind, a few colorful potted mums still anchored the front stoop.
“Asleep?” Bree asked, glancing down at Audrey and giving her an adoring smile. She shook her head as she closed the door behind them. “Aren’t you lucky, Charlotte. I have a friend who said her baby never sleeps.”
Charlotte gave her cousin a long, hard stare, and fought with her mouth not to say something fresh. Bree didn’t have a clue. But then, she supposed she hadn’t either…until recently.
“Audrey is a good baby,” she agreed as she set the carrier down on the floor so she could remove her shoes.
“A good baby? She’s perfect!” Bree used the opportunity to crouch and get a better look at Audrey. Charlotte winced as her cousin fiddled with the blanket and cooed over the pink snowsuit she’d given as an impromptu gift, which did look rather adorable on the baby. Audrey’s eyelids fluttered, and for a moment Charlotte felt a twinge of panic. She just needed ten minutes…five even!
“She is perfect.” Charlotte grinned. “But I do wish she’d sleep more at night.”
“Can’t you nap when she naps?” Bree stood and shrugged, as if it were just that obvious.
Charlotte stopped unbuttoning her coat, counted to three, and pulled in a measured breath. She’d used the same trick last week when Bree had complained about only getting five hours of sleep due to a rush of holiday orders. “I suppose I could. If I wasn’t at work.”
“But weekends?”
There was no use arguing. “Weekends, sure.” Because of course she could get by on a few hours of sleep. Two days a week.
Her eyelids began to droop as she hung her coat in the small closet Bree had crammed with coats for every season, and what seemed like every pair of shoes she owned, too, right down to her leopard-print stilettos, which Charlotte hoped to borrow someday, if she ever had occasion to wear them, that is. Right now, she’d happily trade a proper night of sleep for a fancy restaurant.
She eyed the creamy off-white living room sofa eagerly as they rounded the corner. What she wouldn’t give to lie down right now, just rest her head for a moment on one of Bree’s colorful throw pillows. Instead she motioned to Bree’s mug. “Any more of that, by chance?”
“A whole pot in the kitchen.” Bree grinned. “And I have your favorite flavor of creamer, too.”
Ah, bless her. Charlotte had been sleeping even worse than usual since the big Thanksgiving announcement, but this morning brought a new source of hope. This morning, she was going to ask Bree if she could move in here. Temporarily.
After all, the place was far too big for just one person. It had once belonged to Bree’s paternal grandmother, who’d taken a special liking to her only granddaughter over her many grandsons (once a prickly issue during holiday gatherings that had eventually faded to a family joke) and gave Bree not only her flower shop but also her home. It had taken more than a year since her passing for Bree to take occupancy of the old cedar-sided Colonial. At first, Charlotte had assumed that Bree didn’t want to take liberties, or perhaps couldn’t bear to part with some of the antique items, but as she followed her cousin down the hall that led to the kitchen, she began to wonder…
Boxes of all sizes lined the passageway, confining the space to single-file, none visibly marked, but all haphazardly arranged. Inside the kitchen, cans of paint were stacked on the island and several of the oak cabinets were missing their doors. Bree said nothing as she casually reached for a mug from an open shelf, as if the house weren’t in some strange sense of disarray, and nothing was amiss.
“Are you…painting?” Charlotte latched on to the most obvious and motioned toward the paint cans.
Bree smiled. “Renovating.” She reached for the coffeepot and filled a mug for Charlotte before topping herself off.
“The kitchen?” Charlotte inquired, wondering if the boxes in the hall meant she had finally gotten around to that attic.
“The entire house!” Bree beamed, as if this was the most natural statement she could make at ten in the morning, when Charlotte was running on about three hours of sleep in twenty-four hours. When she was hoping to move in. To a construction site. With a baby. A baby who could crawl.
Her hand shook a little as she reached for the vanilla creamer that Bree set on the counter. Her cousin kept one on hand in her flower shop, too, for Charlotte’s frequent visits: some professional errands, but most of a more personal nature.
But in all their recent chats, she’d failed to mention this.
“You hired a local crew then?” Charlotte asked pleasantly. Maybe it would be finished quickly, she dared to hope. After all, the house was in decent enough shape. Or at least it had been, as of last month, when Charlotte had brought Audrey over for a much-needed stop on their trick-or-treat run. Bree had fussed over Audrey in her pumpkin costume and added five extra candies to the trick-or-treat bag, which of course Charlotte later consumed on the couch in her apartment, relishing that little parenting perk.
“Oh, no. That would be much too expensive!” Bree clucked her tongue. “I’m doing it myself.”
“Yourself?” Charlotte closed her gaping mouth. Bree looked so proud. Who was she to burst her bubble?
“Yup. Come see what I’m doing to the master bath. I’ve been watching videos on my laptop, taking down notes. You’d be amazed what you can learn off the internet! How to clean a furnace. How to anchor a heavy mirror to plaster walls! You should see me with my drill. I’ve even learned how to spot asbestos. And it’s a good thing I did.” She chuckled knowingly.
Oh, dear God. Bracing herself, Charlotte grabbed her mug and retraced her path through the front hall and up the winding stairs to the top landing, her eyes widening with each step. A ladder was facedown on the floor, next to an open toolbox, and she caught the glint of sunlight reflecting off some spilled nails. Gingerly climbing over the equipment, she followed Bree into the master bedroom, trying to murmur some encouragement and support, but all words were lost when she spotted the open door to the bathroom.
What once had been wall tile of an ancient, peachy hue was now exposed pipes and irregularly shaped holes where drywall had been. A few tiles remained. “Couldn’t get those off for the life of me. Yet,” Bree explained, without having to be asked, and Charlotte’s head started to spin when she saw that her cousin was still grinning.
“How long is all this going to take?” she finally asked.
Bree shrugged. “I don’t know. However long it does, I suppose.”
Oh, the luxury. To live without a care in the world. To live only for yourself and your own whims.
Charlotte backed away from the bathroom door after noticing the loose wires and enormous hole where a light fixture and medicine cabinet had once hung. “Well. This is quite a project.” To put it mildly…
Bree nodded. “I’m learning as I go. Part of home ownership!”
Was it? Charlotte wasn’t so sure.
“Besides,” Bree said, a little more subdued. “It gives me something to do.”
“But you have the flower shop,” Charlotte said, puzzled.
“In the evenings, I meant.” Bree gave a little sigh, and looked around the room. “It was overdue for a change, anyway.”
Charlotte gave a little smile. Of course. Bree was lonely. And who wouldn’t be living in this big old house all by herself? Moving in with Audrey would have been the perfect solution for everyone…if it wasn’t a gigantic safety hazard.
She felt her shoulders drop. Gone were the fantasies she had of watching chick flicks with Bree, having someone to talk to at the end of the day, surrounding Audrey with family at Christmastime.
She’d just have to figure something else out.
“How’s business going, by the way?” she ventured as she gripped the stair rail tightly, following Bree back downstairs to the living room, her eyes scanning for stray nails or loose floorboards.
“The holidays are always busy, but I have seasonal help lined up.”
So much for picking up a few extra weekend shifts at the flower shop. Charlotte was happy to see that Audrey was still sleeping as she settled into an armchair near the fireplace and sipped her coffee. She supposed it was time to discuss the reason she was here. Technically. “I received all the RSVP notes. It looks like everyone can make Kate’s shower next weekend.”
“Oh, good!” Bree perked up. “And I talked to Elizabeth and she’s excited she’ll be hosting. No doubt she’s been looking for another opportunity to use all her wedding registry goods.”
Charlotte managed a wan smile. Elizabeth was her sister’s best friend, and while they’d always had a close relationship, she felt a little uneasy in her company these days. Still, she thought as she rearranged the cushion behind her back, careful not to spill her coffee, she wouldn’t let that interfere with Kate’s wedding shower. Nothing could interfere with it. Not on her watch.
“She thinks I’m picking her up to go to a movie that night,” Bree continued. “Alec has promised not to spill a word and to keep William entertained for the evening.”
Charlotte knew she should be happy that Bree was so on top of things, but she couldn’t help but frown a little. Kate was her sister, after all, and she had hoped to use this wedding shower as a way to bridge the gap between them and set the right tone for this upcoming wedding. The kind that said, I’m your sister, your pinnacle of support, the one who will do anything and everything to make this perfect for you. And now she was just a guest. At Elizabeth’s house. She wouldn’t even have a say in the decorations.
She took another sip of coffee, telling herself not to get sensitive. What mattered was that Kate had a good time.
“I’m happy to oversee the menu—”
“Already on it!” Bree said, leaning over to hand Charlotte a sheet of paper from a stack she had on the coffee table. “Everyone’s offered to bring something.”
Charlotte scanned the list to see what she could contribute that hadn’t already been taken. The only spot open was for drinks. Well, how boring was that? She may as well be in charge of napkins.
“You’re not upset that I went ahead and got things moving, are you? I know you’re busy with the baby, and I hated to add more to your plate, and well…It gives me something to do.” Bree looked a little rattled for a moment, and Charlotte eyed her carefully.
“It’s not easy getting over someone.” Wasn’t that the truth? Even though Jake’s behavior, from start to finish, had been deplorable, there was still a part of her that wished the phone would ring and he would apologize and say that he wanted to be a real family. That he was ready for midnight feedings, diaper changes, and all the other not-so-glamorous stuff you never really consider before you have a baby.
Yes, she thought it. When she was lying in bed at night, just about to drift off, and Audrey started to whimper…she thought it. And when she was walking down Harbor Street on Sunday mornings and saw all those sappy, happy couples at Jojo’s Café, eating pancake breakfasts, she thought it. And she wanted it. There. It was out. She wanted Jake to pick up that phone and call her and apologize. Or turn up at her door with about five dozen red roses and a bashful grin and…tears in his eyes. Oh yes, there needed to be tears. In fact, she wanted him sobbing into those roses.
Pathetic. Really, pathetic. And definitely not something she would admit aloud.
“It’s fine. Fine.” Bree’s smile was unnaturally bright. “Besides, now that I’m not busy primping for dates or shaving my legs, I have all this extra time to finally get this house in order.”
Get the house in order? More like create a giant mess.
“Well, I for one think it’s great that you have such a positive attitude. There’s far too much expectation that a woman’s life is not complete until she’s landed a man. I like to think I’m setting a far better role model for my daughter by showing her that I can be a strong independent woman.” But was she? Charlotte gulped her coffee. It was liberating to make such an announcement, but not true per se, was it? It wasn’t like she was exactly standing on her own two feet, after all. And she wasn’t independent either. But she was swinging it on her own.
What choice did she have?
“Good for you, Charlotte,” Bree said earnestly. “If I had a drink, I’d toast to that, but I’ve cut myself off from wine until at least noon.” She laughed.
Charlotte nodded her sympathy. “You just need to establish a new routine.”
“I know it’s crazy. But we were together for a year and…I thought I’d be over it by now.”
“I understand.” And she did. Far better than she’d ever led her cousin—or anyone else—to believe. It was bad enough that she’d fallen for Jake’s charms, believing him when he’d sidled up next to her in a bar one early summer night, claiming Kate had broken his heart, when it was later determined that it was all part of his plan to call off the wedding. It was even worse when she’d let Jake buy her a few rounds, and blushed when he’d told her how pretty she was, how much better she was making him feel. It was downright stupid of her to accept his ride home, when she knew darn well what he meant by that. But it was downright foolish to ever think that he’d be excited to learn he was going to be a father.
And it was nothing short of pathetic that she’d followed him back to Boston a few weeks later, thinking he’d eventually have a change of heart.
Yes, a part of her still held on to that glimmer of hope. But did Bree—or anyone else for that matter—need to know that? After what Jake had done to her sister, then her, well, she’d probably be told she needed to have her head examined.
“At least you have your baby to keep you busy,” Bree said cheerfully. “And Kate’s wedding, I’m sure.”
Kate! Charlotte had almost forgotten. She glanced at her watch, her heart slowing when she realized she still had fifteen minutes to spare. “I’m supposed to meet my sister at my parents’ house soon. They’re packing up today.”
Bree shook her head. “Right before the holidays. But they’ll be back. And you and Kate have each other.”
Charlotte said nothing as she took a sip of her coffee, the weight of sadness settling in her chest. She had a sister, yes. A sister who employed her and who loved her daughter and who knew her. Too well at times. But it wasn’t the same as having someone to confide in. And that was entirely her fault.
* * *
Kate was standing in her parents’ empty kitchen, surrounded by packing boxes, when Charlotte scooted past the moving men, holding Audrey in the crook of her arm as she managed to feed her a bottle. Kate glanced up from the newspaper she was holding, blinking in distraction for a moment, but as soon as her gaze fell on her niece, her expression transformed.
She quickly folded the newspaper and shoved it into her black leather tote. “May I?” she asked, glancing at Charlotte for approval.
“Of course.” Charlotte handed over the baby, who started to wail as the bottle was teased from her mouth, until Kate quickly popped it back in. “Any good leads in the society section today?”
Kate looked startled. “What? Oh, no. I have my hands full anyway.” She looked back at Audrey quickly, and Charlotte felt that familiar sense of unease that she often had when she was alone with her sister anymore. Yes, they’d moved forward, but there was still something there, under the surface, reminding her that things were different now.
“Where are Mom and Dad?” She scanned the adjacent rooms, seeing no sign of them. Was this how it would be when they were gone? At the office, the sisters at least had matters to discuss. But when the workday was over, they were left with stilted chitchat and bad memories.
“They’re down in the basement. You know I won’t go down there.”
Charlotte laughed in spite of herself. Kate had always been afraid of that basement, ever since Charlotte had locked her down there for a few hours, after Kate had tattled on her for eating all of the brownies her mother had made for the school bake sale the next morning.
“We must have been what, eight and ten then?”
Kate shook her head. “It could have been yesterday. I kept waiting for Mom to hear me pounding on the door.”
Charlotte looked at her sister guiltily. “She was next door at Mrs. Paulsen’s house. That lady could talk.”
Kate laughed. “She still can! Careful, I saw her prowling around out front when the moving vans pulled up.”
Charlotte looked at her sister thoughtfully. “You never told on me for locking you down there, did you?”
“No.” Kate slipped her a smile. “I figured we were sort of even.”
Even. If only it were so easy to settle the score now.
“Well.” She shifted the weight on her feet, uncomfortable. She didn’t like thinking of all the times she went wrong, and all the times Kate still took her back. “I suppose we should go up to our rooms and save what we can.”
They walked up the stairs in silence. Audrey was gurgling behind her, happy to be in her aunt’s arms. Usually the sound of her daughter’s voice cheered her, but as Charlotte skimmed her hand up the banister, her heart felt heavy. She’d only just finally made it home after a year away. And now that home was being taken from her again.
No more Thanksgiving meals gathered at the dining room table. Or Christmas, for that matter.
“Who will host Christmas?” she asked aloud as she reached the landing.
“I suppose I will,” Kate said. “Or maybe Aunt Ellen can have us over. Between you and me, I don’t really feel up to guests this holiday. Not with my wedding in January.”
Charlotte nodded mutely. Of course. Kate wouldn’t want the trouble of being hostess, not when she took the role so seriously. She wouldn’t be the kind to put out a plate of cheese and crackers and a bottle of wine the way Charlotte would. No, Kate liked details. Lots of them. So of course she couldn’t take on the responsibility of entertaining right now.
Any more than she could probably take on the responsibility of a houseguest. Or two.
Good thing that Charlotte wasn’t planning to ask.
Her stomach felt a little sick when she thought of her options. She walked into her room and sat down on her bed. Or the mattress, really. Her mother had taken the bedding to the Goodwill the day after Thanksgiving, supposedly. She knew she had no use for twin-sized bedding, and she of all people should know how much something pretty could mean to someone in need, but she couldn’t fight the hot tears that welled in her eyes when she thought of all the times she dropped onto this very bed, on her pink-striped bedding. She’d line her dolls up in a precise order against the frilly throw pillows, kissing each one before she left for school. Later, when the dolls were dumped in the closet, she’d lay on this bed and stare at the posters of teen idols she’d ripped from glossy magazines. Might have even kissed a few of them on her way to school, too, come to think of it.
The pressure in her chest was heavy. She stood up, opened a few drawers and cracked the closet door, but everything had been cleared out. To think that just a few days ago she had imagined herself living in this room again.
Kate was standing in the doorway when Charlotte closed the closet. She jumped at the sight of her sister. “Nothing left to take,” she said.
Kate sighed. “It’s strange. Seeing the house empty this way. It feels like a lifetime of memories are just…gone. I mean, I know they say they are coming back, and most of everything went into storage, but it still feels permanent.”
Charlotte pointed to the closet door frame. “Remember the way Dad used to measure us? Every birthday and the first day of school.” She crouched to look at the faded lines on the white paint. At the passing of time etched in pencil. And she suddenly wondered if she’d ever have the security of living in a place long enough to mark her own child’s growth over the years.
The thought of it saddened her, and she turned away.
“Remember how you tried to paint your bedroom black that one time, and Mom smelled the fumes from downstairs and caught you before you’d made three brushstrokes?”
Charlotte burst out laughing and crossed the room to slide the dresser over a few feet. Sure enough, a big smear of black paint was slashed across the wallpaper. “She had to rearrange my entire room. It was that or put up new wallpaper.”
“I don’t know which idea was worse. Painting it black, or trying to paint over wallpaper.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I’ve certainly put everyone through a lot of grief over the years.”
Kate didn’t meet her eyes, and Charlotte knew it was on purpose. “Well, teenagers. You’ll have your own someday.” She grinned and, so help her, Audrey giggled.
“No. No, Audrey will be different.” Charlotte was adamant.
“Sure she will!” Kate said, rolling her eyes.
Her mother’s voice could be heard in the hall now, ordering the movers in the direction of her room.
Kate opened the door. “I think I’ll go see if Dad needs help. He’ll probably want to take a few more pictures of Audrey, too.”
In the hall, Charlotte could hear Kate talking to her mother in low tones, and finally, heard her descending the stairs. Charlotte swept her eyes over the room once more and then, with one last glance at the height chart, closed the door behind her.
It wasn’t forever, she told herself. And maybe it was for the best. If she’d moved back home now, would she ever have dared to try things on her own again?
This was a nudge. A big one. Another one. And she wasn’t sure how much further she could be pushed.
Her mother’s smile was strained when Charlotte met her in the hall. “I was going to save this for Audrey for Christmas, but, well, I thought you might want to take it with you.” She held out a small cloth doll that had been Charlotte’s favorite as a toddler.
“Nina!” Charlotte gasped, taking the small toy. “Where’d you find her?”
“In the basement, in that old, broken bassinet. I washed it by hand, but I’m afraid she’s well loved.”
That was putting it mildly. Her pink dress was faded and a few threads had come loose, but Charlotte didn’t care. She stroked the cloth. It was still soft. “She’s going to cherish this. Thank you.” She gave a watery smile as her mother’s forehead creased. “It’s going to be okay, Mom.”
Was it? She wasn’t so sure. And from the look on her mother’s face, she wasn’t, either.
“I know your father’s mother needs us, but this all just happened so much more quickly than I expected it would. And during the holidays…” From downstairs there was the peal of a baby’s giggle, and Maura put her hand to her heart. “I’m going to miss my girls.”
“And we’ll miss you, Mom. But we’ll be fine.” Her smile felt brittle.
“And it’s only temporary.”
Charlotte nodded. “I know.”
“And we’ll be back for Christmas. We’re spending Christmas Eve with Granny, and then we’ll fly back to Misty Point that night. We’ll stay with Kate,” her mother added, as if there were any possibility of her parents staying at her cramped one-bedroom apartment.
“That’s only a few weeks away.” Charlotte brightened at the thought.
“Tomorrow’s December first!” Maura announced, but the words hit Charlotte like a jolt of cold water.
She hadn’t paid November rent yet. And now December’s would be due. If she didn’t get her act together soon, her parents wouldn’t be the only ones staying with Kate for the holidays.
She frowned at the thought of resorting to asking her sister for anything more than she’d already given.
“Baby’s first Christmas,” her mother was saying now as she took the box from Charlotte’s arms and began carrying it down the stairs. “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever!”
Charlotte hesitated with her hand on the rail. Best Christmas ever.
Suddenly that felt very far from possible.