Page 9 of Cherishing Little Charlee

“Good morning. You look handsome.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Thanks, I dressed up for you.” He winked. “Your hair looks so pretty down,” he said smiling. “How’s your wrist?”

“It hurts but it’s not as bad as yesterday. I took some ibuprofen when I woke up.”

“Good girl. I hope your wrist feels better soon. Are you ready to go?” Pierce straightened.

“I’m ready.” I had my cross-body bag on me as I pulled the apartment door shut. I didn’t react to his calling me a good girl but I loved it. The sweet pet name made me twirl down the hallway. He mentioned figuring out a plan to handle the various tasks that would be more difficult or downright impossible with only one hand. Maybe the injury was the wake-up call I’d never wanted, but actually needed. Having Pierce shadow me for the next two weeks wasn’t the worst idea.

“I haven’t been involved in a relationship of any kind in a few years,” he blurted out.

Though we had brought up several important topics yesterday, I wasn’t sure why he mentioned his lack of a relationship. Nerves prickled through my body, my mood deflated and I was left wondering why he avoided them. “Any particular reason?”

Pierce laced his fingers in mine, rubbing them across my knuckles. “I, uh, don’t know where to start. I didn’t mean to toss that info out without any reasoning behind it.”

“We all have experiences that shape us. I’m not judging, Pierce. Maybe if we get them out in the open when we get to Porter’s Corner there won’t be this tension between us.”

Pierce nodded but, by the time we exited the apartment building, he hadn’t continued speaking. I nudged his elbow.

“Sorry, Charlee. You’re not the only one who escapes in their head. I’m also worried that once I start talking, you’re likely to march your sassy self in the opposite direction.”

“Ah. So, you’re waiting until I’m strapped into your truck? Smart move.”

“Isn’t it though? Then I’ve got you captive for almost twelve minutes.”

We laughed together, breaking some of the tension but not all of it. He helped me into the passenger side of his pickup truck. Once Pierce got into the cab, he started the engine and sighed.

“I promise not to judge you, Pierce,” I reiterated.

“It’s not about judging. I haven’t talked to anyone other than a therapist about the deep-seated grief I’ve been holding onto.”

“Grief isn’t linear. Grief doesn’t have a timeline or a manual that eases the pain. It’s different for everyone.” Wanting to offer some sort of comfort, I rubbed his shoulder. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to tell me, but if he had avoided relationships…

Pierce waited until I was buckled in before pulling out of the Ranch. Porter’s Corner wasn’t that far away, but the drive gave him space to talk. He reached across the cab, patting my thigh.

“I know grief isn’t linear, sweetheart. It’s hard to admit sometimes that someone who’s used to being tough and stoic can so easily cave.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

“Who did you lose?”

“Abigail.” He rubbed his throat.

“Was she your friend?”

“Yes, but she became more to me. We were friends way back in high school, kept in touch here and there. Abigail contactedme out of the blue. We became very close. Despite her illness, she was cheery and optimistic. Even until the end.”

“So, the two of you were in a relationship?” I gave him space to explain because I wasn’t connecting the dots yet.

“We didn’t mean to get involved, especially not with the disease she was fighting. But, it happened anyway. Abigail joked that she wished there was a Make-a-Wish for adults. That she’d put in a request for a real Daddy.” He rubbed his throat again.

“Did you become her Daddy?” My heart clenched from the thought. I wondered if she had been his Little girl. Tears pricked the back of my eyes.

“Yeah, I did. She wasn’t my Little girl for very long. It was important to me to give her whatever the hell she wanted before it was too late. Spoil her rotten. Make her feel like a princess. Anyway, I fell in love harder than I ever had before.” Pierce shook his head.

“Hey! You sound annoyed with yourself. Did Abigail trust you? Hmmm? Did she thank you every day for being her Daddy?”

He shot me a look that was best described as me toeing the line. However, it seemed like I might be hitting the heart of the issue.

“Yes, you’re right. She did. Every day Abigail thanked me. She lived with unbridled gratitude no matter what she saw in front of her. And in turn, I did my best to be everything she ever wanted.” Pierce cleared his throat several times as if trying to dislodge a lump of emotions.

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