Page 35 of Endless Love

NINETEEN

Ryan

Thank God for my sister, the brainiac in the family. The rational one, who could solve any problem. After knocking out Charlotte, I bound her hands and feet with some old silk ties, then immediately called Mimi and told her what had happened. My sister despised stuck up Charlotte almost as much I did. “Should I call 9-1-1?” I asked her, not really wanting to do that. Mimi advised against it, feeling as I did that police involvement and an arrest would likely end up all over the news and the Internet—the last thing either of our prominent families would want. Charlotte was mentally ill and needed help, so Mimi arranged for her to be discreetly committed to an asylum in Westchester where she could be treated. When Charlotte came to, I read her the riot act, giving her two options: either she agreed to go to the asylum or I would call the police and press charges, not only for breaking and entering, but also for attempted murder. I took photos with my phone of the mess she’d created in her rampage and collected her gun. Charlotte had a melt down, screaming and cursing, throwing obscenities at both Willow and me, but she had no choice. Forty-five tense minutes later, four burly medics arrived from the asylum and forced her into a strait jacket while she kicked and screamed, then strapped her onto a gurney before carting her away.

Afterward, Willow helped me clean up the mess in the living room.

“I’m sorry she destroyed so many of your photos of Al—”

I cut her off before she could say her name. “Don’t be. Just the picture frames are fucked up; they can be replaced. The photos are fine.”

Picking up one of them from the floor, she studied it. “Allee was beautiful.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, she was.” I reflected on my response. My emphasis on the word “was.” The past tense. Now, I had to focus on the present. Willow.

“C’mon, let’s eat,” I said. “I’ll heat up the food.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting side by side on the floor around my coffee table. Cartons of Chinese food were strewn on the glass surface along with a bottle of sake. Some jazz was playing in the background.

“What if Charlotte escapes?” asked Willow as we fed each other lo mein straight from the carton with our chopsticks.

“She won’t,” I said after slurping some of the tasty noodles. “The facility is like a prison with barricades and twenty-four hour surveillance.”

“Are you going to tell her family?”

“My sister is going to handle that along with all the paperwork.”

“Mimi?”

“How do you know her name?”

Willow shot me playful smile. “Duh. Remember…I read your book.”

I smiled sheepishly back at her. “Right.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She is.” I told her more about my sister, her spouse, and their four-year-old daughter, Violet. “They’re going to be here at the end of next week. Violet is going to stay with me while Mimi and Beth go to Antigua for a long weekend to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary.”

“I’d love to meet them.”

“I want you to.” My relationship with Willow was moving forward at breakneck speed. That I was ready to introduce her to Mimi was an excellent sign. And perhaps soon, I would introduce her to my parents though I internally shuddered at the thought.

“Hey, let’s open our fortune cookies,” I said, eager to see what our future might hold.

“Okay,” Willow replied brightly as I reached inside the take-out bag for the two plastic-wrapped cookies.

“Pick one,” I told Willow, holding them out in my palms.

“I’ll take this one,” she said, reaching for the cookie in my right hand.

“You open yours first.”

My eyes stayed on her as she unwrapped it and split the cookie in half. She plucked out the fortune and read it.

“What does it say?”

“It says: ‘You will be blessed with many children.’”

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