Page 46 of Love Me Steadfast
I sit back, my eyes on her. “Was? As in past tense?”
“That show at The Limelight three years ago…” she swallows hard, her eyes focused on serving herself some salad, “…was our final one.”
Charlotte’s singing is rich like honey. Melodic and playful one moment, powerful and sultry the next. That she’s not using it gives me pause. “Why?”
“We’re both busy with other things.”
There’s a kernel of truth to this—Thunder Mountain has grown exponentially and Charlotte’s got her life in Seattle. I sense there’s more, but Charlotte’s stopped eating and her cheeks are pale, so I dial back my curiosity for now.
“Your dad was supposed to tell you,” I say. “About the sale.”
She scoffs.
I wait, but she just pushes her fork around. Meaning we’ve stumbled on another land mine. Charlotte’s relationship with her dad always felt…lacking. To me, anyway. Though it’s clear Ray loves his kids, he couldn’t always be there for them. And Morgan needed a steady hand, which meant she got more of him than Charlotte or Theo ever did.
From the outside, it looked like Ray chose The Limelight over being involved in his kids’ lives, but he had three mouths to feed, with no help. Maybe he was doing his best. Not that it discounts how Charlotte felt growing up because I know she got hurt.
“You don’t think it caused Morgan to…” I don’t want to rehash that night, but the possibility’s been gnawing at me.
Her eyes turn serious. “No, Will. Please don’t think that. I think Morgan’s been…struggling for awhile.”
Based on the quick assessment I did in those fleeting seconds inside Morgan’s house before we raced upstairs, this rings true, but it’s a relief to hear it from Charlotte.
“All of her instruments are gone,” she says in a pained voice. “She may have sold them.”
I grimace. Talk about heartbreaking. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to the pawn shop tomorrow. Maybe it’s not too late to get some of them back.”
“Let me go with you,” I say in a rush.
She tilts her head, studying me. “You work tomorrow.”
Shit, she’s right. And I can’t call in sick for something like this. “Would Ray go with you?”
Her sigh is heavy enough to bring the roof down. “It’s fine.”
I’m going to at least tell Zach about this, put it on his radar. “How was Morgan today?”
“Emotional after these first few days of trying to hold it all together. But…we talked, even laughed a little.” Charlotte takes a sip of her water. “Jackson’s a really great facility.”
“How long will she be there?”
“Until they’re sure she’s stable enough to step down. A few more weeks, at least.”
“Will she go home then?”
“Yes, but she’ll participate in an outpatient program a few hours each day. There’s a behavior contract she’ll need to adhere to. Using her skills and tools.”
It sounds like a lot to manage. “Is she…making progress?” I try to slip past the memories of that night, but my mind catches on the edges, drawing them into the light.
She takes a bite of salad and chews slowly. “From the little she’s shared with me, I think so. I know she has it in her…but she’s facing a lot. It’s not easy. Every day she has to choose the hard road of surviving. And she has to keep doing it, even when shit gets hard.”
“Is that what happened this time?” I ask.
She stills, her forkful of salad pausing midair for a moment before she lowers it to her plate. She licks her lips, which have gone pale.
As if to punctuate the abrupt change in the energy, she pushes back her chair. “I…just got really tired. I need a shower, and bed. Thank you for dinner.”
