Charli

“YOU’RE BRINGING A DATE?” Shawntelle asked, her tone neutral.

Charli tightened her hand on the phone, staring down at the streets of Louisville from the railing. She’d opted to take her break on one of the balconies of the hospital rather than go outside and fight for space where there wasn’t a smoker within twenty feet of the door.

Up here, the sounds of the city were somewhat muted, but she could still hear the engines of the cars below, still smell their exhaust.

She really didn’t like living in Louisville.

She’d thought she would, had thought she’d adjust.

But she wanted to go back to her small-town hospital, back to her small-town life.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shoved the thoughts away and focused on Shawntelle’s comment. “Is that okay?”

“Honey, you’re welcome to bring a harem if you want. I’m just...surprised,” Shawntelle said, ending with a faint laugh. “This guy you’re bringing...you two been seeing each other long?”

“A few weeks.”

She winced at Shawntelle’s telltale hmmmm.

“Things serious between you two?” the other woman asked.

“Like I said...we’ve been seeing each other a few weeks.”

“Gotcha. How’s the sex?” Shawntelle replied.

“Shawntelle!”

“So you’re not having any,” came the tart reply. “Which means...things aren’t that serious, and you’re using this guy to try to forget about Shame. How’s that working out for you?”

Charli stuck out her tongue at the phone, hating the other woman’s insight. “For your information, I don’t have to jump into bed with a guy after the first few dates in order to be serious about him.”

“Nah, of course not. But I know how you feel about Shame. You’re not going to bounce from one guy to the next, not without good reason. So, either this guy really knocked you off your feet, or...he was useful.” Her voice softened and she added, “It’s okay to need a distraction, Charli.”

“Who says I need one?”

Shawntelle was quiet a moment, then she said softly, “You haven’t so much as asked about him. Not even once, and we talk three or four times a week.”

“I...” Charli opened, then closed her mouth.

“Nobody gets over anybody that quick. Even if you do want to lie to yourself.”

“I’m not lying to myself,” Charli said. Tears thickened her throat. “If anybody is lying, it’s him.”

“So...tell him.”

“No.” Charli pushed away from the railing. “I’m done with that shit. If he can’t fight for me, if he can’t fight for himself, then...what am I supposed to do? I can’t fight the cancer for him, Shawntelle.” Checking her watch, she said, “I’ve got to go. See you in a few days.”

* * * * *

THE DAY OF THE PARTY came and Charli was relieved about one thing and pissed about another.

It was blue skies and sunshine out, so the party would be outside as anticipated.

She was also pissed, because she’d gotten a text from Ryder just a few minutes after she woke.

He was one of the physicians on call for the weekend. He’d tried to switch it out with somebody else, but it hadn’t worked and he had to go in for an urgent consult.

He wrapped up the text by asking for the address of the party and Charli realized abruptly, she had no idea where it was going to be. Feeling like an idiot, she texted Shawntelle.

It took over an hour to get an answer, and Ryder texted her twice more.

She finally texted him back and told him she had to clarify something, because she wasn’t going to let him think she’d gone all this time without checking where the party was going to be.

Shawntelle’s text came just as she was debating on whether she should ask Con or Riley. It was entirely likely Con would just show up at Shawntelle’s place and drive to wherever she said to drive. Riley would know. He was responsible like that.

She read the text, then rubbed at her eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Punching in a quick response, she asked,

Shawntelle’s response, again, took forever, although not quite an hour this time.

The SYS—see you soon—made her scowl.

Shawntelle sometimes seemed glued to her phone, but now it was taking her an hour, half an hour to answer a simple text.

She still didn’t get why they were having the party at her old house. They could have had it at Riley’s if they needed outdoor space alone. Besides, that place was in better shape.

“I’ll figure it out later.”

With a sigh, she texted her old address to Ryder and told him she’d see him there.

His next response made her tighten her hand around the phone.

Two hours later, she hadn’t heard much of anything from Ryder except he was consulting with another doctor.

She was ten minutes from her old house when she picked up the phone from the place in the cup holder, shooting a look at her inbox. But no new texts had popped up.

She thought vaguely of what Shawntelle had told her about needing a distraction and her own thoughts about how she didn’t need to be using Ryder as a crutch to make it easier to be around Max. In the long run, nothing would do that.

So today she was probably going to end up having to see Max without the buffer of having somebody at her side.

Then Monday, because she couldn’t keep putting it off, she was going to have to have a talk with Ryder.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, she willed both thoughts out of her head. “It’s a happy day,” she said through clenched teeth. “Happy, happy...forget about Ryder. Don’t think about Max.”

At least one of those was doable.

* * * * *

THIRTY MINUTES INTO the party, she got a text from Ryder asking if she was still there.

Charli thought, retrospectively, she should have done the smart thing and ignored the text. Or lied. Or just told him to head on home, they could talk later.

Anything but what she said.

Still, as the message winged off into cyberspace, she stood there by the drinks table, half afraid to leave that spot because it was the only one that provided a decent view of most of the yard.

She’d parked her car at the far end of the property, pointing outward, so she could make good her escape whenever she felt like it. So far, that had happened about a dozen times, but she’d resisted each one. She wasn’t leaving now. She was going to wait until she’d been there at least an hour.

Or that had been the plan.

It wasn’t until a few minutes after she’d sent the text that she realized she’d trapped herself here until the party was over, because it would take Ryder an hour to get here and she couldn’t make him leave right away.

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath.

She wanted to think it was good news that she hadn’t seen Max, but she was worried about that very fact. She wanted to hunt down her brothers and see how he was, ignoring the promise she’d made herself. If he wasn’t going to fight for himself, she had to stop fighting for him.

There wasn’t any choice, was there?

Swearing, she dumped the water she had into the grass and filled her plastic party cup with ice, then all the way to the top with the lemonade-vodka mixture that took up a third of the table.

She lifted it to her lips, gulped half of it down, then topped it off.

She debated the merits of just getting drunk off her ass. Then she wouldn’t have to think, would she?

Cup in hand, she turned, deciding it was time to just get lost in the crowd. She almost ended up walking right into a tall, trim woman with dark brown hair pulled back from her face in a high ponytail.

Her pale, crystalline-blue eyes met Charli’s.

Charli felt her chest ice over at the sight of those eyes.

“Elaine,” she croaked out.

What the hell was Max’s sister doing here?

Elaine smiled, a slightly rigid, formal smile. It almost reached her eyes, though, which was a first as far as Charli knew. “Charlotte,” Elaine said, holding out her hand.

Manners had been hammered into her, so Charli accepted the woman’s hand and shook it. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said. That’s an understatement. “Are you... Did you come with Max?”

“Oh, no. Shawntelle invited me.” She glanced around and shook her head. “I don’t think Max is here yet. He’ll be here when he gets here, though. Alex is looking forward to seeing him.”

“I...what... You mean, your son. Max’s nephew. Shame’s nephew,” she tossed the nickname out there even though Charli knew Elaine knew who she was talking about. She was just...rattled.

Why was Elaine here?

And Alex being excited to see Max?

Max avoided them both like the plague.

“I...should go,” Elaine said, glancing around like she was looking for somebody and before she could think of a way to make her stay, she slid past Charli.

Now she was the one lost in the crowd and Charli was left trying to figure out just what had happened in the past couple of months that had Elaine and Max talking.

“He must have told her,” Charli murmured, although that sort of blew her mind. She’d been trying to get Max to reach out to his sister for...well, quite a while. Not so much for Elaine’s sake, but for the boy’s—and Max’s. She’d thought it might do them both good, but any time she brought it up, he shut her down.

She grimaced at the mental acrobatics that must be taking place in Max’s head for him to make such a complete change, and part of her started to wonder, to hope—

Don’t go there. You know better than that.

She heard a familiar voice behind her and, thankful for the distraction, turned to greet Riley.

He caught her up in a hug. “Kept hearing you were around, but I hadn’t seen you anywhere. Been in the house yet?”

She glanced toward it but shook her head. “No. I’d rather not—” She frowned and took a second look at the place where she’d grown up. “What’s with the windows?”

“Oh, the new owner wanted them.” Riley hitched up a shrug.

“Please don’t tell me you all agreed to do renovations before they’d take possession!” She whirled on her brother, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I told you one of the reasons we were pricing it so low was because we weren’t going to make any changes to the house. We’d offer a thousand for new flooring, but that was it.”

“Oh, we didn’t pay for those.” Riley waved a hand in dismissal. “The lawyer for the new guy who bought the place just asked if they could get started. Once me and Con moved you out, we didn’t see why it would be a problem.”

“I...but this guy isn’t taking possession for, what, another month?” She couldn’t remember what she’d been told just then, but it had made no sense.

Riley shrugged. “Come on. You should see what’s been done to the place.”

He took her hand and started to tug her along behind him. She tried to pull away, but the crowd was watching them and when Riley didn’t let go, she gave in. At the door, though—and it was a new door—she pulled her hand free and said, “I really don’t want to see the inside of the house, Ry. It wasn’t all that easy leaving here, you know.”

He gave her a level look. “It’s just a house, Charli. That’s what you told me and Con when we asked if you were sure about selling it.”

“Don’t toss my words back at me.” She shoved a hand through her hair and turned her gaze out over the yard instead of looking at the house. That was when she noticed that more than a few people were watching her. Or them. She wasn’t sure which one. Self-conscious, she looked at her oldest brother. “Is there something going on that I don’t know about? A going away party, or something, that you all decided to stage a couple months after I left?”

“What do you mean?” Riley gave her a perplexed look.

“People are looking at me weird.” When he went to check out the partygoers, she hissed at him. “Don’t look!”

He laughed. “You’re imagining things. Come on. Come see the inside.”

She had two choices—go inside and see the house...the home...she missed, or stay out there and get more self-conscious as the seconds passed. She thought about making up a third choice—leaving, but manners wouldn’t allow it. Besides, she wouldn’t hurt Shawntelle and Con like that, so she turned and followed her brother into the house.

Her jaw fell open as the door swung closed behind them and she immediately wished she had stayed outside.

Outside...away from this.

Swallowing the knot that had already taken up residence in her throat, Charli turned away from her brother so he wouldn’t see her expression. “Wow,” she said, reaching for the calm that had gotten her through college when surrounded by people so much older than her. It served her well now, as she found herself in the kitchen where she’d grown up...the same, but different.

This was how she’d always imagined the place looking, once she was done with school and her residency. She’d wanted to have the time to really fix the place up, but time was something she had none of right now.

But time apparently wasn’t a concern for the new owner.

The new windows sparkled in the early afternoon sun, letting more light into the place than the older, smaller ones had previously done. Little pots of herbs were tucked into each of those windows, already blooming. The flooring had been ripped up and replaced with new—nearly an identical pattern, too. The all-white cabinets had been replaced as well, the top ones now boasting glass-fronted doors that showed neatly organized glassware and plates. The design of the counters was echoed in the hutch at the far end of the kitchen.

She’d always wanted a hutch—one to put her mother’s china in.

Her mother’s china—

Jaw dropping, she stormed over to the hutch and glared at the familiar pattern on the dishes. “This is Mom’s china!” she said accusingly.

She said it to the sound of a door closing.

“Riley!” she snapped, spinning on her heel.

But the man standing in front of her wasn’t Riley.

Shock hit her in the solar plexus with the force of a two-fisted punch as she found herself staring at a man wearing a surgical mask...and a bandanna tied over his head.

Max’s pale blue eyes stared at her over the edge of the mask and he reached up, slowly tugging it off. “Mind if I lock the door?” he asked, gesturing behind him. “I’m not supposed to be around anybody who might be sick and since it’s a party...”

Dumbly, she nodded.

“You started treatment.” It took two tries to get the words out.

“Yeah.” He angled his head to the side, staring at her.

She looked him up and down, searching for signs of side effects and finally coming to a stop when her gaze landed on his scalp. “Losing your hair?”

He hitched up a shoulder. “It’s just hair.”

“Is that...” She stopped and licked her lips. “How is it going? I mean, you look...”

Fantastic. How could she blurt that out just then, though? It would be the truth. How could he look so...good when he was on chemo? He actually appeared to have put on weight, not lost any, which was typical.

He glanced down at himself and shrugged. “It’s kind of weird what happens when you eat three meals a day. Granted, they don’t all stay down, but apparently I’ve been underweight for a little while.”

She could have told him that. He could have used an extra twenty pounds on his lean frame the last time she saw him. She doubted he was all the way there, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d put on a good ten. And while he was on treatment for cancer?

“Wow,” she said, forcing a light note into her voice. “You can actually eat three times a day. I never would have thought it was possible.”

“Kind of crazy, but it turns out the more I eat, the more I want to eat.” He twisted the mask in his hands, still staring at her with those wide, crystalline-blue eyes. “Got nothing but time on my hands now so I’ve been teaching myself how to cook.”

Charli was certain she’d fallen into a weird, parallel universe. Shaking her head, she turned around, staring blindly at the pieces of china—her mother’s china—in the hutch in front of her.

Abruptly, it hit her.

“You’re the one who bought the house,” she said woodenly.

Damn him.

“Technically, my lawyer bought it.”

She spun around, glaring at him. “I don’t want to hear about technicalities!” she shouted. It made sense now. How many times had she stood in this kitchen and mused about the things she wanted to do? And he’d been there. Looking back, Max had always been there.

Lurking at the edges of her life, but never fully coming inside it.

“Why did you fucking buy my house?”

If the fury in her voice surprised him, he didn’t show it. Max hitched up a shoulder, drawing her attention to the sculpted muscle there. How could he look even more delicious now than he had when she’d left? It wasn’t fair!

Immediately, she felt foolish, selfish and small, because it was good that he had decided to start taking care of himself.

She was glad.

But it was so hard, already, just to be around him.

“Why did you buy my house?” she asked again.

“Because it shouldn’t go to a stranger, Charli,” he said. He took a step toward her.

She held up a hand, not certain why. It wasn’t like he was close enough to touch or anything. She just didn’t want him coming any closer.

Like hell.

Her body ached for him to come closer and her heart was crying for him.

But her sanity wasn’t sure she could handle it.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

Max just stared at her.

“Damn it, talk to me!” Her voice cracked at the end. “I’d just gotten myself to accept the fact that you were willing to die instead of trying to fight this cancer. Now I come back, thinking I’m going to a party for my brother and his fiancée and I find out you’ve bought my house, you’re on chemo and— Are you talking to your sister?”

He nodded.

“What in the hell is going on?”

Finally, some reaction other than that inscrutable stare. He crooked a grin at her. “Are you mad that I’m actually getting chemo, Charli?”

“No, you son of a bitch! I’m glad you’re not going to up and die on me.” She shoved her hands through her hair again, spinning away from him so she could pace. “I just... What in the hell happened in the two months since I left?”

Max sighed and she watched him from the corner of her eye, but didn’t turn to face him fully.

“There’s no easy answer to that, Charli. It could be as simple as you left. Things got tangled up in me the day I found out you’d gone to Mexico and they haven’t been the same since,” he told her.

She could feel him willing her to meet his eyes, but she didn’t dare.

“One might think getting stabbed, then waking up sick as a fucking dog might be a wake-up call even if you taking off for the beach without saying a word to anybody didn’t do it. But I’ve always been hardheaded.” He circled around, not trying to come any closer.

But he seemed determined to look at her.

Mutinous, she glared at him.

“Cancer didn’t even do it.” He laughed deprecatingly. “Your brother outright telling me I’d found a way to kill myself without putting you all through the shit of blowing my brains out... That didn’t do it.”

“What in the hell are you talking about it?” she asked, blinking back the tears at the thought of him killing himself.

But that was what he had been doing. She was an idiot if she couldn’t see it.

Charli had never been an idiot.

Neither had her brothers.

They’d known, too.

But they’d stayed, willing to be by his side even then.

She felt a little ashamed.

Charli...

She cut off the mental castigation, because she knew she couldn’t have stayed here, and stayed sane, if he kept up what he was doing to himself. It had been hard enough watching him, wanting him...then having him for a brief time only to have him toss her aside. But to watch him die in front of her when he could so easily live?

She didn’t think she was that strong.

He slid closer to her. She sucked in a breath and prepared to bolt, but he didn’t try to touch her. Just stood there, less than two feet away.

“I’ve been dead inside most of my life, Charli. The only time I even came close to living was when you were around. It was easy to convince myself that life would be just as easy for you all if I wasn’t around as it is with me being here.” He watched her with hooded eyes.

Charli opened her mouth, then closed it. She had nothing to say to him now.

How could she?

She had no idea what it must be like, living in his skin. The memories, the nightmares he had.

Because he seemed to want something from her, she finally forced herself to speak. “You survived, Max. You’re stronger than you think.”

“I’m not strong, Charli. I’m a fucking coward.” He laughed and the sound, for once, was without edge or bitterness. “I see strong when I look at that kid, Alex. He’s barely ten and he’s already stronger than I ever was. He wants life. He wants to be happy. He’s not afraid every fucking day will bring something much worse.”

“He had somebody fight for him,” Charli said quietly. “You never did.”

“Bullshit.” He threw the word out, a spark of his old anger lighting his eyes. But even then, his face was different.

He was...lighter, somehow. Charli couldn’t explain just what it was about him, but everything about him was different.

“I had you. I had your brothers. Your mom and dad would have gone to bat for me if I would have just let them. But I was afraid of what that snake who helped spawn me might do to them if they said or did anything. And even though I begged them to be quiet...I know they weren’t. They called the cops. Time after time. The cops just tuned them out, because my dad owned too many of them.” His lip curled. “It’s just as well because I think I would have slit my wrists if anything had happened to your parents because of me.”

She forgot she didn’t want to touch him.

Launching herself toward him, she grabbed him by the front of the shirt and shook him. “Don’t you say shit like that! You hear me? You act like you loved my parents, then you say something like that in this room where my mom held you when you cried... You asshole!” She shook him again and was about two seconds from slapping him when he caught her wrists in his hands.

“You just don’t get it, Charli. You and your family...you were the only good things in my life. If something happened and I lost that, there wouldn’t be any reason to hang around anyway.”

“Your dad didn’t scare my parents!”

“He should have,” Max said softly. Then he shook his head. “But that’s not the point.”

“Is there a point to this?” She laughed, and the sound was a little hysterical. “I thought you were just railing about how you want to die. I got the picture, thanks. I kind of had it figured out when you decided you weren’t going to fight a treatable cancer, you son of a bitch!”

She turned away from him and braced her hands on the hutch, shaking and sick inside.

His next words caught her off-guard, and her knees all but gave out.

“I don’t want to die, Charli. Not anymore.”

“Let me guess...you finally saw the light and you want to live and now... What?” She laughed hollowly. “What is this, Max? Are you trying to claim some romantic bullshit and say you want to live for me?” She turned and glared at him. “That’s not good enough.”

“I don’t want to live for you.” He caught her around the waist and pulled her up against him.

It caught her off guard enough that she didn’t think to push away. Not at first. And by the time it dawned on her that she should, her body was already reacting to the feel of his. He felt so good...

But her brain had stuttered to a halt. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“Charli...” He laughed again.

It would dawn on her later that she’d heard him laugh more in those few brief moments than she normally heard him laugh in...months. Years, even. But he laughed and his blue eyes brightened with amusement as he stared down at her.

Reaching up, he cupped her cheek. “I can’t please you right now, can I? If I’d said, Yes, I want to live for you, Charli, would that make you happy?”

When she didn’t answer, he prodded her. “Would it?”

She huffed out a breath, annoyed. “You need to live for yourself, Max. Fighting cancer for me, for somebody else, living for me, for somebody else...that’s not enough.”

There were things unspoken that she kept tucked inside but somehow, he saw them, hiding in her eyes, or locked away deep inside her heart.

“Even somebody as fucked up as I am needs to learn how to live for themselves, don’t they, Charli?” He pushed his hand into her hair. “Or maybe especially people as fucked as I am.”

She opened her mouth, but he pressed a thumb to her lips. “Don’t go trying to say that I’m not fucked up. We know I am. I hid away from it for too long, dealt with it the wrong way. You and your brothers, you all tried to get me to deal with it better, but I wouldn’t listen.”

She felt bereft when he moved away, even though she’d been trying to convince herself to do just that.

“I’m going to a therapist.” He dropped that line there and just stared at her.

She blinked at him, certain she’d heard him wrong.

“Actually, I’m talking to two therapists, but one of them is Alex’s. He...uh...”

To her unending shock, Max blushed. Max Shame Schaeffer blushed. He looked away, his gaze roaming to the window. Whether he saw the boy, she didn’t know, but she could tell he was thinking of him. “He asked his mom if I’d take him. For some reason, he feels better with me there.”

“For some reason?” she echoed. Shaking her head, she gestured toward the crowd that lay just outside, also thinking of that kid. That survivor. “You and he both survived the same hell. Why do you think he wants you there?”

“I’m still adjusting to the fact that people want me anywhere, Charli.” He gave her that same grin he’d shared with her earlier. A real smile, she realized. Not full of caustic or biting humor. Just a smile, holding nothing but humor. “Cut me some slack, okay?”

He half-turned, leaning against the kitchen island and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I’m adjusting to a lot of shit, and some days, it’s still a bitch just to get out of bed.”

She understood what it was he hadn’t said—what he might not say out loud. He didn’t have to, though. She got it.

He was talking to people.

He was getting help.

“Are you taking medicine?” she asked carefully—afraid to ask, but at the same time, hoping he was willing to commit to that.

He didn’t look at her. “For the cancer? Or for all the shit that floats in my head?” With a shrug, he continued on, not waiting for her reply. “Yes, to both. I’m clinically and severely depressed, or so I’m told. Big surprise.” He finally looked at her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

She averted her eyes.

“You’ve always had balls of steel, Charli. Where are they now?”

“Max, I don’t know what you want from me right now.”

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Well, no. That’s not true. I want everything from you, but I lost the right to ask. I just...figured you should know.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

She gaped at his back as he paused there, lingering long enough to put the mask on. He was going to drop a bombshell like that on her and then just walk out?

I don’t think so, Max Schaeffer.

She stormed forward but he’d already opened the door and stepped outside.

“Maxwell Schaeffer, I’m not done talking to you,” she shouted after him.

He turned to look at her.

And so did dozens of others.

Including her brothers.

Including... Oh, shit. Ryder was there.

Max followed the direction her gaze had taken and she saw a chill fall over his eyes.

“Is that him?” he asked coolly.

She just stared him down.

Max nodded, as if to himself, and turned.

She swore and looked at the nearby table. It boasted a beautiful engagement cake and a bunch of adorable cupcakes. Shawntelle would understand. Without pause, she grabbed one of the cupcakes and lobbed it at Max’s retreating back.

“You son of a bitch, you stop walking away from me.”

It hit him mid-back and he went still. For a few seconds, everybody went still, it seemed.

Including Charli.

But she jerked herself out of her semi-fugue and started forward. She bypassed Ryder and gave him a wince. “I...uh...can we talk? Later?”

Ryder eyed her empty hands. “If I say no, will I get cupcaked?”

A few people chuckled. She just blushed and hurried after Max who had finally turned to stare at her.

“We’re not done,” she said hotly, jerking her chin up at him.

“Aren’t we?” He cocked his head to the side. “You called it quits when you left. I just...” He shrugged. “I figured I should tell you I figured things out. That’s all.”

She poked him in the chest. A few people edged closer.

She gave every one of them a look that would have frozen fire.

Suddenly, they had a little more room.

“I left?” she demanded. “First you kicked me out of your life...again. How many times have you pushed me away, Max? Then you decide you’ll just give up the good fight and let cancer kick your ass, but you think you can sulk because I left?”

Fire flashed in his eyes.

But it wasn’t the fire of anger.

Abruptly, she realized she might have played right into his hands.

“Who said I’m sulking?” He lifted his chin in challenge, eyes dropping to the hand she’d fisted in his shirt. “I just needed to say a few things and I said them. Why don’t you go on back to your date now, Charli?”

Giving him a slit-eyed gaze, she returned his challenging glare. “You got a problem with me having a date, Shame? I only watched you parade every unmarried, and several married, women in town in front of my face, honey.”

Something flickered in his eyes and he reached up, cupped her cheek.

She knocked his hand away. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t you...”

“I can’t change the man I was, Charli. But I can change the man I am.” His lids drooped over his eyes and he slid a look past her.

She knew he was looking at Ryder. “Now...do you want to go talk to your...date?”

She knew what he was asking and she was suddenly terrified.

Max was offering her everything she’d ever wanted. Was she ready to reach for it again?