Page 49 of About Time

Guilt niggles in the back of my mind. When I pushed Hattie away, I meant to encourage her to spread her wings and move beyond this town, not never return to it. I don’t know if Hattie will come back now, or if she’ll take Wren with her. Either way, life is going to be different for both of them forever.

“How about you don’t worry about that right now. The only thing we need to do right at this moment is start getting this glass out of your hands and knees. Go take a seat at the table and I’ll get this glass cleaned up.”

She rises woodenly and makes her way to the table. She doesn’t even seem to notice the shards of glass still stuck in her skin. The front door closes while I go into the mudroom to grab the broom. I come back out and see Ruth, Liam, and even Griffin enter the house.

Griff looks in the kitchen warily and reaches out to take the broom from me. “Go be with her. My son is freaking out, and she needs someone steady right now. I can take care of this.”

In truth, having a task somehow makes it easier to manage everything, at least for now. Soon enough I’ll run out of things to do for Martin and Elisa, and it will be hard to ignore that my friend won’t ever be there to talk to again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hattie Past- Age 26

I’m regretting not bringingClark with me as I drag my suitcase up the front walk to the porch. There isn’t a cell in my body that doesn’t feel absolutely exhausted. My soul is weary, and that blanket of numbness is fraying. I need to hold it together long enough to plan a funeral.

All I want is to go in and collapse on the couch. I don’t still have a room here, since Lis turned it into a library for her and Wren a couple of years ago. Sleeping in her room is out of the question. My mind is already trying to reject that they’re never coming back. If I wake up in a room having the smell of her perfume mixed with his aftershave assaulting my senses in those few seconds when I am waking up, it might snap that thread I’m hanging on by.

I dig my keys out of my bag. It’s been eight years since I’ve lived in this house, but the key is still on my keyring. The house is dark when I enter. I try to be as quiet as I can so I don’t wake Wren if she’s managed to get any sleep.

I’ve been out of it since I got the news several hours earlier. If I’d been more with it I would have thought to call Wren oranyone to check in on her. At least I’m here now. The next week is going to be full of missteps, so I need to remember to give myself and Wren grace. Even if she’s pissed off to find me here in the morning, I’ll be patient. She would have every right to be mad at me. It isn’t like I’ve been the most attentive to her in the years since I left.

These are all problems for tomorrow. I reached my capacity to deal with shit hours ago, and now I’m running on fumes. I abandon my suitcase by the door and drop my keys on the entry table.

I drop down on the couch and immediately realize I’m not alone down here. The blanket on the couch starts squirming, and I jump back up to my feet. Reaching over to the end table, I flick on the lamp.

It only takes a second for my heart to stop. It occurred to me that I might run into him while I was back. Actually, given the size of Harriston, I figured it was pretty much guaranteed I’d see him. Then there’s the funeral, which of course he’d attend because he was one of Martin’s best friends.

The odd thing is that as afraid of this moment as I have been, I’m very happy he’s here. He’s always had the ability to make everything stop for a little while, and I want all the loudness in my head to shut up, even if just for a minute.

“Hey, Doll,” he greets me in a voice still rough with sleep.

I can’t fight the rush of feelings and burst into sobs.

He sits up and pulls me into his arms. With my head on his chest, he slowly strokes my hair. “I know Doll. Let me be here for you tonight.”

I nod and let him pull me down with him. Charlie pulls the cover over both of us. Without thinking I whisper, “I’ve missed you, Charlie.”

He kisses the top of my head and holds me tighter. He doesn’t tell me he missed me too, but for a few hours I canpretend there’s not an ocean between us. All that matters is that right now he’s the person I need most. I think this is the reason I wouldn’t let Clark come with me, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.

The smell of coffee rouses me in the morning and I wake to find myself alone on the couch. It’s for the best, I really don’t want to explain anything to Wren. We both know nothing has really changed. I’ve heard the rumors from the friends I still occasionally chat with over social media. Charlie gets around more than our mailman.

It hurt like hell when I first heard it, but I’m glad right now that I know. It helps me keep things straight in my head. It would be so easy to let my mind run away, but I’ll be going back to Florida eventually.

Charlie strolls into the living room carrying two cups of coffee. He sits next to me and puts one of the cups in front of me without saying a word. I take a sip, and it’s exactly the way I like it, with a large pour of sweet cream and a little bit of coffee. I shouldn’t read into it, but it’s hard not to wonder what it means that he remembers how I take my coffee.

There’s so much pain in my life right now that I think I’m looking for an escape, any escape. Charlie was that for me once, but I can’t go backward. At least not permanently. I don’t think there’s any chance I’d be able to forgive him again, but I don’t see the harm in letting him help me get through the next few days or so.

Charlie breaks the silence first. “How are you feeling this morning?”

I take a sip of my coffee, careful not to burn my mouth. “I think I’m still in a bit of denial. I keep expecting Lis to walk in the door, or to hear Martin tinkering in the garage.”

He chuckles. “You mean breaking things in the garage.”

For a second I smile. “Yeah, he really sucked with tools. You know Elisa would wait until he went to work to have a repair person come in and redo whatever DIY project Martin did around the house. I think he thought he was great at fixing things because of that.”

Charlie stares into his coffee for a minute. “How has life turned out for you?” His voice is soft and quiet, and I almost don’t hear what he’s saying.

“Are we really going to do that? Do the whole catching up thing and pretend that we’re just friends who’ve lost touch? I don’t think I want to hear about how you’ve moved on from me. Not right now.”

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