Page 47 of The Healing of Christmas

Charlotte furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“There are things about Charlie you don’t know,” Rudy said. “Something horrible happened to him. Something that makes him dismiss the world.”

“How do you know all this?”

“He told me,” Rudy said. “I work in a bar. I’m basically the town therapist.”

“And I guess you won’t tell me what happened,” Charlotte said.

Rudy shook his head. “All I can say is this. I think Charlie saw you as his first link back to ‘real life.’ Back to feeling like a normal man. But he got scared. Anyone would have in his position.”

Charlotte gaped at Rudy. “He says he’s going back to the city.”

“I can’t imagine that will happen,” Rudy said. “I imagine him getting in that Porsche of his and driving out onto the open road. But I can’t imagine he’ll find what he’s looking for. I don’t even think he knows what he’s looking for.”

Charlotte’s heart felt pulpy and bruised. “What should I do? He won’t answer my text messages. He won’t answer my calls.”

Rudy raised his shoulders. His face reflected Charlotte’s deepest fear: that it was too late. The window had closed. And Charlotte had to find a way to live with that, somehow.

ChapterTwenty-One

Two days before Christmas, Charlie received a final text message from Baxter Bailey.

BAXTER BAILEY: We’re going ahead with the sale without you. Thanks for nothing.

Only minutes after that, Timothy texted him. He’d found another job, another developer to assist. Charlie found himself in the strange position of getting everything he’d wanted. Timothy was off his back, and Baxter was long gone. But his stomach churned with anxiety, knowing he’d brought Baxter’s wrath upon the Cherry Inn in the first place. Whatever money Baxter planned to throw Hank Summers’ way was surely nothing to scoff at. But money was tainted; it lacked the romance that emanated through White Plains. Perhaps the money would eventually snuff it out.

Charlie donned his winter coat and went for another long walk through the woods. He hadn’t heard from Charlotte in a while, and he’d begun to think she was an apparition, something he’d made up to serve as a cushion between himself and the horror of the real world. Now that the Cherry Inn was being sold, perhaps Charlotte would return to the city. Perhaps one day, Charlie would see her walking in Manhattan. Perhaps they’d lock eyes with one another and then pass by. Or perhaps they wouldn’t even notice one another at all.

Charlie walked back downtown, looped around Rudy’s and Jeez, Louise, passed the courthouse and the elementary school. The sky was very blue, and sunlight made the snow drifts impossible to look at; they were so bright.

Charlie finally got up the nerve to pass by the Cherry Inn. Main Street was overwhelmed with parked vehicles, presumably all cousins and other Summers family members, and as Charlie drew closer, he realized the entire Cherry Inn was humming with life. Speakers inside played “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and children scampered through the snow outside, rolling it into balls to secure bases for children. Their parents helped and frequently returned to the porch to sip something out of mugs— coffee, tea, or even hot wine. Charlie’s heart thudded as he looked a little too long at each of their faces, making out features he’d once seen on Charlotte’s. If he’d played his cards right, he would have been up there on the porch with the Summers. He would have gotten everyone another round of mulled wine. He would have shown the two little girls nearest him the better way to roll the snow.

Oh, his heart ached at the way everything had fallen apart. He’d been so close to something real. And he’d destroyed it.

“Charlie?”

A familiar voice drifted from the far end of the porch. It was Rudy, his face bright red with a chill between the flaps of his fuzzy cap. He bucked down the staircase and approached, crunching through the snow. Charlie felt on display. The two little girls turned around to gape at him. Hadn’t Charlotte said she had two little granddaughters from California?

“Merry Christmas, man,” Rudy said, clapping him on the back.

“Merry Christmas.” Charlie sniffed. “You have a full house?”

“It’s about to burst,” Rudy affirmed. “Never a dull moment. It’s even crazier than it was when I was a kid.”

Charlie tried to laugh. “Must be nice to have everyone back together.”

Rudy set his jaw. He looked contemplative. “It is.” He blinked. “Would you like to come in for a while?”

“I couldn’t,” Charlie stuttered. “I’m on my way somewhere, anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” Rudy said.

Charlie was speechless at being called out like that.

“Listen, man,” Rudy said under his breath, “you need to come clean to Charlotte about what happened.”

Charlie’s heart thudded.

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