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“I talked to her the other night,” Rudy went on, “and she’s so broken up about you. I’m not saying you need to marry her or even date her! I just want her to know she didn’t imagine what was happening between you two. And I want her to know you’re actually a decent guy.”
“I’m not a decent guy,” Charlie pointed out. “I’m the furthest thing from one.”
Rudy touched Charlie’s shoulder. “That’s the thing, Charlie. You need to fight this self-hatred. You’ve built a prison around yourself. You don’t deserve it.”
Charlie’s mouth felt very dry. “I didn’t have anything to do with the sale of the Cherry Inn,” he said suddenly.
Rudy raised his shoulders. “What do I care about the sale of this inn? It’s just a place. I’d much prefer my cousin and my new friend were happy. I’d much prefer if my new friend found joy again.”
The two little girls had built a terrible base for their snowmen. They ran around it, screeching excitedly. It seemed they’d never seen snow before.
“She’s in the apartment in back,” Rudy said. “Just go knock on the door. She’ll answer.”
Charlie could hardly breathe as he walked around the house. It felt like walking the plank. His thoughts spun circles, searching for the right words to say and how to say them. But by the time he reached the back apartment, he was dull with panic.
That’s when he saw her through the window.
Beautiful Charlotte sat in the La-Z-Boy, giving baby Ethan a bottle. She was completely alone, her eyes rapt with love for her grandson, and she sang just loud enough for Charlie to hear through the glass. Her voice was soft and dreamy, echoing a nursery rhyme Charlie hadn’t heard in many years. Ethan kicked his feet lightly, pleased to be in the arms of his grandmother.
Charlie felt sucker-punched with memories of Melissa. How she’d needed him. How he’d failed her.
But for reasons he would never understand, Charlie forced himself to the back door of the apartment and knocked. He felt frozen with fear. There was the soft tapping of feet, and then the door opened to reveal Charlotte with Ethan still in her arms. The smile she’d prepared, probably in thinking he was a family member, fell immediately. Maybe Rudy had been wrong. Maybe this was the worst possible thing to do.
“Charlie?” Charlotte searched his face. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you mind if I come in? Just for a second.”
Charlotte beckoned for him to enter and shut the door. The baby bottle remained on the counter, still half-full, but Ethan had fallen asleep in Charlotte’s arms. Charlotte draped Ethan in the bassinet. Again, Charlie was struck with a memory of Sarah putting Melissa down just like that— with such tenderness.
“I came to apologize,” Charlie said. “And also tell you I haven’t been fully honest with you.”
Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze wasn’t judgmental.
“Three years ago, I went on vacation,” Charlie said. “My wife, daughter, and I rented a farmhouse on the outskirts of White Plains. One night, I was driving us back to the farmhouse. There was an accident.”
Charlotte placed her hand over her mouth. Charlie stared at the floor.
“There is no reason in the world that a father should outlive his daughter,” Charlie went on. “And there is no reason he should walk away from an accident like that without his wife.”
Charlotte cleared the space between them and took his hand. Her eyes were two glinting pools. Her touch was almost too much for him; he felt sure he would burst into tears.
“I am so sorry that happened to you,” Charlotte whispered.
Charlie let out a single sob. He dropped his forehead onto Charlotte’s shoulder and quaked. It occurred to him, now, that he’d hardly cried after Sarah and Melissa’s deaths. He’d considered it cowardly to sit in rooms alone, crying. He’d considered it pathetic, given his guilt.
“It was my fault,” Charlie said.
“No,” Charlotte said, her hand over the back of his head, rubbing his scalp. “It wasn’t your fault, Charlie. It was an accident. A horrible accident. It never should have happened.”
Charlie shook his head. He felt like Jell-O. Charlotte led him to the couch and sat him down. She then whisked to the adjoining kitchen to brew tea. Charlie focused on his breathing, watching little Ethan sleep in his bassinet.
“I remember it really well,” he said, nodding toward Ethan. “How amazing it is to be so needed. To feel like you have this purpose in the world.”
Charlotte returned with two steaming mugs of tea. “Having him around has helped me more than I even understand, I think. I’ve been floundering for years.” She sat beside Charlie and placed their mugs on the coffee table. “When Van reached out to me to say she was in labor, I was all by myself on Thanksgiving. I felt like the loneliest person in the world.” She chuckled sadly. “And that was only a month ago.”
“And now, the Cherry Inn is bursting with your family,” Charlie said. “You couldn’t be alone if you tried.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard it’s our final Christmas.”
