Page 27 of A New Love

"Come on, Roxy, pick up," Charlotte whispered under her breath, eyes fixated on the screen as it continued to show the call connecting. The familiar buzzing sound of the dial tone hummed in her ear, providing an uneasy soundtrack to her mounting anticipation.

As she waited for Roxanne to answer, Charlotte reflected on the fact that she had bought a one-way ticket to Chesham Cove without even considering the possibility of returning. The realization sent a surge of uncertainty and doubt rushing through her like a tidal wave, momentarily threatening to overwhelm her.

Why had she been so impulsive? What if this entire journey was a mistake? Or had she meant it—what if she had meant it? The questions swirled around her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind, refusing to settle.

"Deep breaths, Charlotte," she reminded herself, inhaling slowly and deliberately in an attempt to regain control over her racing thoughts. She could almost hear Roxanne's voice in her head, chiding her for her tendency to overthink things and encouraging her to trust herself.

"Remember, you're stronger than you think," she could imagine her sister saying. And as the words echoed through her consciousness, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. If anyone could understand what she was going through and offer guidance, it was Roxanne.

The heavy weight of concern began to lighten somewhat, replaced with a flicker of hope. No matter the outcome of her search, Charlotte knew she could rely on her sister. And with that thought, she braced herself for the conversation to come, anxiously waiting for Roxanne to answer the call.

"Hey, Char! How's England treating you?" Roxanne's voice crackled through the line, a familiar and comforting sound that instantly put Charlotte at ease.

"Rox, it's absolutely incredible," Charlotte gushed, her apprehension momentarily forgotten as she eagerly began recounting her experiences in Chesham Cove. "The Crown Inn is just like something out of a storybook – all ivy-covered walls and cozy fireplaces. And Marge, the owner, is such a wonderful woman. She's really gone out of her way to make me feel welcome."

"Everyone I've met so far has been so friendly and kind," she continued, her words painting a vivid picture of the close-knit community. "It's almost like stepping back in time – life here seems so much simpler, slower-paced, and more meaningful."

Despite her enthusiasm, however, there was an underlying current of uncertainty that pulsed beneath the surface of her narrative – a subtle tremor that hinted at the deeper reason for her call. As she paused to catch her breath, Charlotte hesitated for a moment before taking the plunge, her voice trembling slightly as she broached the subject that weighed most heavily on her heart.

"Rox, there's something I need to tell you," she admitted, swallowing hard as she forced the words past the lump in her throat. "I've been thinking of doing some digging, with Marge's help, and... I think I might find some family here. You know, on Dad's side. And that means I’ll stay here a bit longer."

The silence that followed was heavy with anticipation, as if the world around her had suddenly been plunged into a state of suspended animation. Charlotte could feel her heart pounding in her chest, each beat like the tolling of a distant bell echoing through the void.

"Are you sure?" Roxanne's voice cut through the stillness, her tone laced with surprise and curiosity. "How will you find them?"

"Internet ancestry websites, mainly," Charlotte replied, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt as she explained the painstaking process of piecing together fragments of information from various sources. "It's not a hundred percent certain yet, but... if I find them, I really want to reach out to them, Rox."

"Of course you do," Roxanne responded gently, her words like a balm to Charlotte's frazzled nerves. "And I think you should stay as long as you need to.”

"Okay," Charlotte whispered, grateful beyond words for her sister's support and reassurance. "I just... I don't know what to say to them or even how to approach it."

"Start simple – reach out, introduce yourself, and explain your connection," Roxanne suggested. "The key is to be open and honest. I have faith in you, Char."

"Alright," Charlotte murmured, her determination solidifying. "I'll try."

"Good. And remember, I’m your first call for any gossip, family drama, or discovery that we have a large, lost inheritance."

Charlotte laughed, and with a final word of encouragement, Roxanne ended the call, leaving Charlotte staring at her phone, the instrument of their connection now silent.

***

That afternoon, Charlotte opened her laptop and began her search, following Marge's advice and assistance from earlier about where Chesham’s local Andersons were located.

She typed the names of the potential relatives into the search bar, her fingers tapping lightly on the keys as she waited for the results to load. As each page materialized before her, Charlotte felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with trepidation, her heart fluttering like a caged bird within her chest.

"Okay, here goes," she whispered to herself, her eyes scanning the screen for any hint of a connection.

She clicked on the first link and began to read, determined to find the missing pieces of her family history. Charlotte's fingers hovered above her keyboard, the letters M-A-R-I-O-N staring back at her from the screen. This was it. A potential relative who could provide answers about her family history. Maybe about Henry—her father. Charlotte’s heart pounded in her ears as she took a deep breath and clicked on the link to Marion's contact information. Her eyes widened at the sight of the phone number, suddenly all too real.

"Okay, Charlotte," she whispered to herself, attempting to steady her trembling hands. "You've come this far. You can do this."

She picked up the phone and entered the digits slowly, deliberately, each tone echoing in her ears like the distant tolling of a bell. She hesitated before pressing the call button, memories of Roxanne's encouragement flooding her mind. With one last steadying breath, she pressed the button and brought the phone to her ear.

The phone rang once, twice, the sound sending shivers down Charlotte's spine. Her stomach twisted into anxious knots as she paced the confines of her room, her feet sinking into the plush carpet with each step. The anticipation was palpable, the air around her seeming to hum with an electric energy that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

"Come on," she murmured, gripping the phone tightly. "Please answer."

As the phone continued to ring, Charlotte's thoughts raced. What if Marion wasn't home? What if she didn't want to talk to Charlotte? Or worse, what if she wasn't related to her at all? The doubt gnawed at the edges of her courage, but she refused to let it consume her.

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