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“What can I help you with?” Charlotte’s voice was higher pitched than she’d planned for.
Louise turned and removed oven mitts from her hands. “So that’s your fiancé?”
Charlotte swallowed. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m surprised, all right,” Louise said. “And he’s certainly handsome.”
Charlotte furrowed her brow.
“But I have to say, Charlotte,” Louise went on, “I think you’re making a mistake.”
Charlotte let out a soft laugh. “You don’t even know him.”
“He’s been here three minutes, and he’s already insulted you,” Louise shot. “That isn’t the kind of man I want my daughter to marry. I don’t even want him to stay another second in the Cherry Inn. Look at that hair, Charlotte! He looks like an evil villain in a comic book!”
Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears so that her mother’s face blurred. She hated that her chin quivered with rage and sorrow. “He’s just nervous,” Charlotte stated. “He didn’t mean what he said.”
“That’s the kind of man who will always take you down a peg,” Louise went on. “He will always see your weakness and point to it in front of everyone.”
“He’s not like that,” Charlotte blared, crossing her arms over her chest. It was rare that she and her mother had an argument like this. The last time had been maybe eight years ago— something to do with a tank top Louise had deemed inappropriate to wear to school.
“Honey.” Louise rubbed her temples and stared at the ground. She suddenly looked much older than her forty-one years. “I don’t want you to end up like me.”
Charlotte flared her nostrils. “Peter isn’t like dad.”
“He’s just like him,” Louise blurted. “Mark my words. He’ll be out the door the minute things get hard.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you making this so hard?” Charlotte demanded. “I wanted to bring my fiancé home to meet my family! I wanted us to have a cozy Christmas together!” Charlotte’s thoughts raced. “Can you please just give him another chance?”
Louise wrapped her hair into a tight ponytail. “Honey. I know you don’t have much experience with men. Listen to me. Listen to reason.”
“Mom,” Charlotte blared. “I’m pregnant, okay? You’re too late.”
At this, Louise’s jaw dropped. The news hung between them, separating them on either side of the kitchen. She hadn’t wanted to tell her mother like this. She’d imagined a gorgeous evening by the fire and her mother weeping with joy and telling Charlotte that being a mother had been the greatest gift of her life. She hadn’t pictured her mother’s blotchy face or her rage.
“Oh, honey.” Louise dropped her head and shook it. She was on the brink of tears, but they weren’t happy ones.
“Mom, it’s going to be good,” Charlotte said, her voice breaking. “Peter and I love each other. We’re so happy about the baby.”
Louise turned and pressed her hands over her face as though just looking at Charlotte was too painful.
“Mom.” Charlotte cleared the distance between them and touched her mother’s shoulder. She needed her mother to get on board with this; she needed her mother’s love.
But the moment Louise felt Charlotte’s hand upon her shoulder, she bristled and gave her a sideways look of anger. “Don’t come crying to me when he shows you who he really is,” she said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Charlotte drew her hand back immediately and let it drop to her side. She felt as though her mother had just punched her in the stomach. She couldn’t breathe. Her mother returned her attention to the counter, which she’d begun to scrub with a sponge, her elbow swinging forth and back. Charlotte swam through potential things to say. But there was nothing to take away the sting of her mother’s words.
Charlotte walked like a ghost back through the apartment door and into the inn. At the dining room table, she found Peter eating a cookie and telling Rudy about New York City, about how alive it felt on the streets, even late at night. Rudy’s eyes were dull with boredom.
“Hey, Peter?” Charlotte interrupted him.
Peter stopped mid-sentence and looked her way.
“Could I speak to you for a moment?” Charlotte asked.
Peter nodded toward Rudy. “Excuse me for a second.”
Charlotte dragged Peter back to the foyer of the inn. Her legs quivered beneath her, threatening to cast her to the ground. “We have to go,” she said, her breathing ragged. “We have to go back to the city right now.”
