Page 98 of Stone Rules

Once again, I catch myself watching Charlie sleep. She fell asleep on the couch after we got home from Sunday brunch with the Mitchells. I can’t take my eyes off her stomach. Through her tight, thin shirt I can see the baby kick and it’s fascinating. A hand, foot, knee, or elbow works its way across the left side of her belly. I put my hand on her lightly so I can feel it. I wonder how she can sleep through this. I wonder how it must feel to have something growing inside you.

I wonder how a woman can experience this and go on to hit the very child she gave life to. How she can loathe her own flesh and blood to the point of becoming her child’s worst nightmare.

I look at the journal lying on the coffee table. The journal I found when I was looking for something in our closet. It fell on the floor and as I was picking it up, I caught a glimpse of what was written. Vile words from a woman so selfish, she would sell her own child’s body to get what she wanted.

Out of respect for Charlie, I didn’t read any more words than what my eyes caught when I leaned down to retrieve it. But I need to let her know I found it. I need to let her talk about it.

“The baby is really active today,” she says, startling me.

“How do you sleep through that?” I ask.

“Sometimes I don’t. But most times, I’m so exhausted that he could be kick-boxing in there and I’ll sleep right through it. I think I’ve just gotten used to it.”

I keep my hand on her and lay my head down on her stomach to talk to the baby. “Listen up, Junior. You need to let your mom get some sleep. Save the kick-boxing for later, say seven weeks or so from now.”

Charlie runs her fingers through my hair. “Seven weeks,” she says. “I can’t believe it. On the one hand, it can’t get here soon enough, but on the other . . .”

I look up at her. “On the other, what?”

She sighs, looking slightly guilty. “I like our life, Ethan. Things have been so great the last few months. Once the baby comes, I feel like everything will change. Not just because of the Zach thing, but because it won’t be just us. What if everything changes?”

“The only thing that will change is that I will love you even more,” I assure her. “Charlie, this baby will only bring us closer. No matter what. I promise.”

“You don’t know that. Having a baby can change people, Ethan. What if it changes me? What if I become someone you can’t love?”

I know she’s thinking about her mother. “That won’t happen. You aren’t her, Charlie. You could never be like her.” I reach over and pick up the journal. “You are nothing like the woman who wrote this.”

Charlie gasps, her hand leaving my hair to cover her mouth. “Oh my God. Where did you get that? Did you read it?”

I drop the journal and sit up. I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me so she knows I’m sincere. “No. I didn’t. I was in the closet looking for your sweater—the soft one you love so much— I was going to cover you up with it after you fell asleep. But when I pulled it from the shelf, the journal fell to the floor. I only caught a few words of what was written before I closed it up and brought it out here. But those few words were enough for me to know who had written them. I don’t want to read it, Charlie. And neither should you. Why are you torturing yourself by keeping it?” I pick up the journal and slam it back down on the table. “The woman who wrote this is dead. She can’t hurt you anymore. The only one who can let her continue hurting you is you.”

She cocks her head to the side, studying me.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she says with a sad smile. “It’s just that I think I remember saying something along those lines to Piper last year when she was running away from Mason.”

“I knew I was marrying a smart woman.”

She shakes her head. “You might not want to marry me if you knew what was in that journal.”

“There is nothing in there that would change the way I feel about you, Charlie. I know everything I need to know about your past. And that’s just what it is, the past. As far as I’m concerned that damn thing should have been buried with your mother.”

She looks down at the journal, studying it. Then she looks at me and something happens. Her eyes go from being dark and guarded, to shining bright with hope. “Will you help me do it? Will you help me bury the past?”

“I’ll do anything for you, Charlie. You know that.”

She gets up and walks back to our bedroom. A moment later, she returns with a file folder. “In here are all the files you gave me from the list. I want it all gone.” She slams it on the table next to the journal. “I want it gone before the baby comes. I want it gone now, this second. I don’t want any more reminders of her. Of them. Let’s bury it with my past, Ethan.”

I think about what she’s telling me. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. But how do we do it? I was being metaphorical when I said the journal should be buried with her mother. But I feel like that’s what she needs. A burial. A funeral. Closure on her past so it can’t haunt her anymore.

I stand up and wrap my arms around her. “I don’t think I want to risk you getting thrown in jail for desecrating your mother’s grave. How about cremation?” I ask. “We can burn it. We’ll burn everything right here in the fireplace.”

She looks at the fireplace. Then down at the journal. Then up at me. “I’ll get the matches,” she says.

I bring the file folder and the journal over to her, but I don’t put them into the fireplace. That’s for her to do. I lay some kindling and start a fire with the matches she hands me. We watch it for a minute to make sure it catches. Then she holds her hand out and I give her the documents.

She opens the file folder and takes out the piece of paper on top. She glances at it and then crumples it up into a ball. “Fuck you, Karl Salzman,” she says, throwing it into the fireplace.

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