Page 26 of Giving Up The Ghost
Her mother died ten years ago, and Charlotte’s been on her own ever since. I’m sure it’s been hard on her, being an only child and then being on her own. When her mother died, that’s when she started working on ensuring the family history was not only collected butknown.” I shuffled back and sat beside him, tugging the corner of the sheet over my own bare thighs as we pressed close, warm skin to warm skin, his hair-rough thigh to my smoother one. “We talked about that part a lot. Charlotte was trying to make sure everything about our family was known, in as much as she could, because there are so few of us left. Just me, her, Nadine, and some far-flung cousins of a sort in the north of England and south of France. And one outlier in Lichtenstein, but apparently no one speaks to or of him. I’m fairly certain, now that I think about it, he might just be a sort of urban legend in the family history. When she told me she was collecting it, I had the impression she meant just data, not those binders, or… Well, anything else, really.”
Julian let out a long, low sigh and shook his head. “Maybe I misunderstood, or she misspoke.”
“Maybe,” I allowed, doubt heavy in the syllables.
Julian’s phone buzzed again, and he groaned. “Swear to god, I had no idea these things could sound pissed off until CeCe’s ex started trying to fuck her over and I became her defacto therapist.”
“You’re her twin,” I reminded him. “Weren’t you kind of born for the job?”
“Don’t you dare repeat that to her,” he warned, thumbing the answer button. “Ever.”
I smirked and rose to my feet, tugging the sheet with me as he greeted CeCe.
“Hey!” he whisper-shouted as I left him naked, the sheet wrapped around me toga-style.
“Just making sure you’re good and awake,” I teased, padding to the room door before flashing him some thigh and slipping out to get to the shower before Ezra took up all the hot water.
* * *
Charlotte was waitingfor me in the kitchen when I made it downstairs less than half an hour later. She was smiling, a tray of spice bread, little jars of compote, and some soft cheese on the table alongside a steaming teapot and a coffee carafe. “This smells amazing,” I said by way of greeting. She preened.
“Thank you! I was hoping… Well…” She fiddled with the hem of her blouse, twisting her fingers in the dark fabric as she avoided my eyes, her smile fading a bit. “Well. I know things were not so good yesterday, and I want to apologize to you all. I cannot redo the days, but I can try and start this one well, yes?”
“Yes.” I sighed, a wash of relief coursing through me. “Ezra and Julian will be so happy to hear we’re starting over, so to speak.”
“I’m sure.” She took the seat across from me before offering me the bread. “Are they coming down soon?”
“Julian’s talking with his sister, and for Ezra not to be down here following the smell of this deliciousness, it means he’s on the phone with Harrison. His boyfriend,” I clarified.
Charlotte huffed a small, amused breath. “Young love, eh?”
I thought of their age difference and just gave a tiny, smiling shrug. “Something like that.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Charlotte set her plate aside and leaned forward, her eyes bright with excitement. “I was going to wait until after everyone ate to tell you, but I cannot hold it in! This morning I want to show you all of the collection. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was all in place, everything perfect!”
“Collection?” My food had suddenly become less interesting. “Oh, yes please!”
She laughed, clapping her hands in mirth. “You sound like a boy at Christmas, so excited!”
“That’s a fairly apt description,” I agreed, chuckling. “I’ve been dying to see it ever since we spoke of it this summer. You must tell me everything.”
She blinked, looking momentarily abashed as she sat back. “Everything? Haven’t I already?”
“Er, some, but not all,” I reminded her. “You wanted to wait until we could visit in person, remember? Since some of it was going to require explanation, you said.” That was weird. It had been a huge point of contention between us when the subject of a visit was first broached. “You were very adamant.”
She suddenly smiled and waved off my words with one fluttering hand. “Of course, of course. I misunderstood your meaning. I’m fluent in the language but sometimes, especially when I’m tired, it’s easy for my brain to just muddle up words, you know? The brain’s still in French almost all the time.”
“Of course,” I repeated. “I apologize if I caused you embarrassment. I barely speak one language, much less two!”
She smiled blithely and tucked back into her food. “It was no offense to me,” she assured me, and my stomach sank.
She knew I spoke French just as fluently as English, along with a bit of German and Italian. Some of our conversations had even been in French. “Maybe I should work on improving my French,” I suggested after a few bites, my head pulsing with the threat of a burgeoning migraine.
Charlottehmmmed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. You are never too old to learn a language, I’m told!”
What the actual hell is going on…
Julian and Ezra weren’t down by the time we were done eating. Charlotte cleared our plates, despite my protests that I could handle my own, and urged me to follow her. “Come! I’ll show you the cellar, and then make sure Ezra and Julian are fed before returning to help you, alright?”
