To Have Page 9

  “I like him.”

  That sweet voice came from Charlotte, was sitting on a tall stool, stirring something in the bowl while Elsie turned a knob on her oven.

  “I do too. He seems like such a nice young man. Mannerly too.”

  Charlotte kept moving the big wooden spoon around in circles as she answered. “He helps me when I can’t reach things that are up high.”

  “That’s very kind of him. Well, I’m pleased he’s such a good friend to you.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad he’s my friend too.” Charlotte stopped mixing whatever was in the bowl. “He’s really quiet, but I love to hear him talk.”

  “Do you now?” Miss Elsie gave her a side glance as Charlotte agreed with a nod. “How come?”

  “He doesn’t speak to many people, so it makes me feel special.”

  “That’s because you are special, sugar.”

  “Thank you.” She looked up from what she was doing. "I think he’s special too.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty, and he makes my heart happy.”

  Elsie laughed heartily. “You mean handsome?”

  “Is that pretty for a boy?” Charlotte asked inquisitively.

  Elsie paused thoughtfully before answering, “In a way, yes.”

  “Then, yes. I think he’s the most handsome boy in the world.” She dropped her voice to what I think was supposed to be a whisper, but it was just a hoarse sound at her normal volume. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “You know you’re always welcome to do so.”

  “I want to marry him someday.”

  “Well, when’s this big wedding going to take place?”

  “I think I have to wait ‘til I’m older…like twelve. Twelve’s a good age to get married.”

  Elsie laughed, her higher voice tinkling like bells. “Marry while you’re young, huh?”

  “Sure. But I think you have to be older to drive, so Daddy might have to drive us around until he can get his permitten.”

  “His permit?”

  “Yeah, that.” She looked at Elsie, a face full of an emotion I couldn’t name. “Do you think he’d want to marry me?”

  Elsie took her face in her hands and kissed her on the forehead, then looked at her and said, “My dear Charlotte, any boy who wouldn’t want to marry you is simply not a boy to be trusted.”

  I had to agree. Who wouldn’t want to marry her? She was pretty and always sweet to everyone, even when they weren’t so nice back. She never wanted anyone to feel left out and made friends quickly. She smiled a lot and loved sharing things with others, all to make them happy. She listened to her parents and even did as her brothers told her, even when she didn’t like it. She made good grades, was always trying to help me with things, and animals loved her too. She was perfect.

  My foot creaked on the old wooden floor, and I jumped a little at the sound, my position compromised.

  I looked up to see two sets of eyes staring at me.

  “Everything all right?” Elsie asked.

  I nodded my head. “Wh-where is A-Aidan?”

  “They’re outside. We’re just baking some cookies.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Come help us, Deacon!” Charlotte waved her hand in a “come on over” motion, then busied herself with what she was working on and scooted around on her stool.

  I looked to the door and questioned my options: play with the boys again or stay here alone with Charlotte? There was no choice. I walked back to the front door, looked outside to see the boys running around in the yard while Charles worked on something by the shed, and closed it, placing my shoes, which I had neglected to take off when I first came in the house on the mat.

  I walked back into the room and was greeted by two ladies, young and old, chattering away about something. As Elsie turned to grab something from one of the tall cabinets, Charlotte moved to hop down off the stool, but it slid, throwing her off balance. I caught her just before she hit the ground, rolling with her to keep her from hitting the ground. My tailbone ached, partially because of the welts from my dad’s belt. I had left the kitchen towel on the countertop once the dishes were done last night, so I had to be punished, but I was worried I had hurt her.

  “My word, are you all okay?” Elsie rounded the island, looking us over and trying to help us to our feet.

  I winced when I moved to get out of her way, but I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. Elsie helped Charlotte, who had started to tear up, a sight that made my heart break. I hurried to my feet, knowing I’d have to be punished for doing wrong, but it was only right since I made her cry. “I’m s-sorry.”

  Elsie busied herself wiping Charlotte’s tears away, but she looked at me with regretful eyes. “Did I hurt you?” That question came as a cry out of her small pink mouth, and she wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her head on my chest.

  I encircled my arms around her, noticing how small she was to me. I patted her head, trying to soothe her, even though I didn’t have much practice. “I’m f-fine. Are you hurt?”

  She peeled her big green eyes, reddened by her tears, up to mine, and her bottom lip quivered. “No,” she cried as she put her face back in the middle of my shirt and I looked up to Elsie, unsure of what to do to make her stop crying. She just grinned and soothed Charlotte, getting her to release me finally and reminded her that we don’t stand on the stools because we can get hurt. Charlotte bobbed her head up and down, tears still flowing freely as I stood there, still wondering if she was hurt and wasn’t saying something.

  “I think I know what you both need,” Elsie said as she reached behind her and grabbed three triangle-like cookies. “Let’s go sit at the table and eat these scones. Deacon, could you grab that pitcher of lemonade?” I grabbed the clear container with bright yellow liquid sloshing around and carefully carried it behind the two ladies.

  We settled into the large chairs around the huge wooden table that looked like it was meant to seat twenty people around it. Charlotte’s tears had started to dry up as she quietly ate her scone. I had never seen a scone, let alone heard of them. I eyed it curiously when Miss Elsie came back from the kitchen with three tall glasses.

  She noticed my hesitation immediately. “Deacon, have you ever had a scone before?”

  I shook my head and felt embarrassed at not knowing what it was.

  “Well, most people don’t eat them anymore, but it doesn’t feel like a proper breakfast without them. Go ahead. Try it.”

  At her insistence, I took a small bite. Butter and orange burst across my taste buds with something tart that I couldn’t figure out.

  “Orange cranberry are my favorites. Charlotte’s too. Right, honey?”

  She bobbed her head up and down and took a sip of the yellow liquid in her cup. “Elsie’s are the best.”

  I couldn’t disagree with that, so I took a more enthusiastic bite than my first, enjoying all the flavors intermingling. We didn’t have sweets around the house; when we did, I usually had done something to lose my privileges, so Dad ate them, saying that bad children don’t get to have any. I gave Elsie my thanks, and she accepted them kindly. We sat there enjoying the treats and the lemonade, Elsie asking me several questions about myself, with Charlotte answering half of them because she knew I didn’t like to talk much. I was a little thrown off because I had never received this much attention from someone who didn’t already know me.

  After a while, we heard the door fly open, and three sweaty boys came bouncing in, dirt on numerous places of their clothes.

  “Deacon, come play with us!” Aidan motioned to me as Grey grinned, and Mason frowned. Well, at least two of the three were happy to see me.

  I looked at Elsie. “Is-is it all right if I g-go?”

  “Of course, honey. Will you bring your plate and glass to the kitchen?”

  I gathered them up and walked behind her to the kitchen, Charlotte following close behind. I gently placed them in the large white sink.

 
“Here,” she said as she handed me a small basket that had a kitchen towel hanging out from underneath the lid. "Take these with you. There’s plenty in there for you and the boys,” she beamed as I took the handle.

  “Th-thank you.”

  She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for helping, darlin’.”

  “Bye, Deacon!” Charlotte came over and hugged me once more, leaning up to leave a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for saving me.”

  I put my free hand over where her lips had been, no doubt blushing but enjoying the warmth her gesture had left behind. My eyes followed her to where she was climbing back up on her stool. Elsie was helping her, but her blue-eyed stare was locked on me, a big grin on her face.

  “Have fun with the boys.”

  I left with there with a tingling feeling in my chest. I pulled on my old, dirty shoes that were quickly becoming too snug because I couldn’t stop growing, and opened the door, hearing Elsie talking in the kitchen.

  “Charlotte, I want you to promise me something.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I want you to promise you’ll send me the first invitation to that wedding of yours. Okay, sugar?”

  I walked up the wide porch steps, my boots thudding against the old wooden porch, with it groaning beneath the addition of my weight. The screen doors were closed, but one of the large double doors was propped open. I knocked, with the sweet voice I had waited to hear for two years answering its call.

  “Is that my handsome Grey?”

  I walked in and started undoing my laces on my boots. “No, just your dingy ol’ Deacon.”

  “You come here right now, Deacon Devereaux, and let me get a good look at you.” Elsie was sitting in her favorite rocking chair, looking more weathered by life, but always the epitome of grace and love. Her hands were folded across her lap, and she had a knitted afghan beneath them. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the door. These old legs don’t work like they used to, unfortunately.”

  I bent down to hug her, taking in her warmth and compassion. “You’re always worth the extra steps.”

  “Gracious me. You’re a sight for sore eyes, honey.” She looked up at me, and eyes made bluer with age and the wrinkles of the last two years more prominent on her beautiful face.

  “As are you,” I said as I took her hands in mine and gently caressed them with my thumbs.

  I hugged her for a long time, soaking in her grandmotherly goodness, not wanting to let go. “How have you been?” I pulled back to look at her, a welcome sight after such a long time.

  “Same ol’ same: old and creaky,” she laughed heartily. “Dear me, my manners… Care for some tea?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you, though. But I could get some for you if you want?”

  She looked aghast. “Nonsense! You are a guest in my home. I can…”

  I put my big hands over hers to keep her seated. “I’m fine. I promise.” I knelt beside her rocker.

  “You know you’re more than welcome to take one of the chairs or the loveseat, right, sugar?”

  I smiled at the term of endearment she reserved solely for Charlotte and me. “It’s been a long time. I’d rather sit close to you if that’s okay.”

  “You know it is. So, how are you doing? I so look forward to your letters.”

  “Rehab was tough, but I’m doing okay. One day at a time.” My time in rehab for my knee led to a stint in rehab for my drinking problem, at the insistence of Merritt.

  “That’s understandable. My Carrington struggled for a long time before we got him the help he needed.”

  “How did he stay sober all these years?”

  “It wasn’t easy at first… There were a few so-called friends that had to be extracted from his life, and he had to change his entire mindset on many things: recognizing triggers, staying away from familiar haunts, and so forth. He relapsed a few times, but the last time was the turning point in his life.”

  “What happened?”

  She had a solemn look on her face. “He almost died.”

  I listened as she recounted her son’s failure to control his addiction. It led to him hopping in a car one night after drinking heavily at a bar and wrapping it around a tree on the way home, which nearly took his life and caused major damage to a neighbor’s property as he barreled through it on his way to the tree.

  “After that, he saw where that road led to, so he took his sobriety much more seriously. He had worked hard to destroy the family’s faith in him, so he had to work harder to repair that broken trust. But we took it one day at a time, and that made all the difference for us.” She stilled for a moment, then continued, “The thing he had to remember is that the addiction didn’t set him free, it caged him, made him a slave to its needs. He almost put himself behind bars for life with his latest antics.”

  I thankfully hadn’t caused any physical damage, but my last encounter with Charlotte before I left town had no doubt left her ego battered and bruised, which explains perfectly why she looked at me with so much disdain.

  “I’m sorry you all had to go through that.”

  “Thank you. It was rough, but he turned it all around, got on his feet, and became quite the businessman.” She bragged on his accomplishments some more like a proud mother, and her glow at her son’s transformation would melt the hardest of hearts.

  “Did Grey get you settled in your new home?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “He’s become quite the entrepreneur himself.”

  “He has. He really should be charging more rent with the company in trouble like it is.”

  She shook her head, knowing. “I have told him as such, but you know Grey: heart over head. He believes it’ll come back around to him in some way.”

  “I hope it does. He’s a great guy.”

  “That he is. Speaking of work, how is it going?”

  I told her about my first couple of days and how everyone was so nice to me, except for one who didn’t want me there at all. When the conversation veered towards the girl who plagued my thoughts in the day and my dreams at night, I noticed a slight shift in her demeanor.

  “Did you tell her why you’ve been gone all this time?”

  “I can’t. Not completely. Not without…”

  “Giving up Merritt and the baby.” Elsie was the only other person than me in our world of connections that knew about them. Merritt loved her just like we all did and trusted her ability to keep a secret. It was a burden I didn’t want to put on her, but when she hinted at certain things in her letters, I knew she knew something. I took a chance and called her, and because she was a foxy old gal, she had figured out a grand portion of the details herself—about Aidan, why I went to rehab, and why I had packed up and moved four hours away without any warning. She had a conversation with Merritt when I had finished talking to her, Merritt taking the phone into the bedroom with her, out of my earshot. When she returned, she assured me that Elsie would keep things quiet until the time was right, and I dropped the topic. From that point out, I spoke freely about the two of them and relished the fact that I didn’t have to carry that burden alone anymore.

  “Deacon, I think it’s time everything is laid out in the open.”

  “I want to, but I don’t think the family will understand why—” Why I developed a severe drinking problem, and why I moved away so suddenly and stayed gone longer than my rehab should’ve taken. Why I was guarded about everything I told them.

  “I don’t think you are giving them enough credit, sugar. Especially my sweet girl.”

  “She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, honey. She’s hurt.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t sit around and think about it all the time like I do.”

  “And I can assure you—you’d be wrong about that.” Her all-knowing, grandmotherly stare was leveled at me. “I know my girl. She’s been hurting for a long time, and I think you have as well. Don’t you think it’s time for you to step up and be who sh
e needs you to be?”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “At least you’ll know. But, honey…” A look of approval gleamed in her eyes. “If anyone can be trusted with my Charlotte’s heart, it’s you. But I have to ask: why didn’t you tell her you’d be gone for a while?”

  “I did.” Her eyes knitted together as if she were disappointed in my answer. “I wrote her a note telling her that I would have to be gone, and I’d explain when I returned, except that took a lot longer than I had planned. I told her to message me—that I wanted to talk to her about it, or at least what I could—but she never did. I thought she didn’t want to talk to me.”

  I could see the wheels turning in Elsie’s head. “When did you give her this note?”

  “I gave it to Mason on my way out of town. He was there when I stopped by Charles and Lynn’s, and I asked him to give it to Charlotte.” I doubted Charlotte disclosed that I nearly took her virginity the night before I left, so I kept those details to myself.

  “Hmmm.”

  A terrible thought dawned on me. “You don’t think he…”

  She waved it off dismissively. “I can’t imagine that Mason would do that, but Charlotte didn’t receive a note. She would’ve said something.”

  Anger boiled over in my veins and left me in a state of disbelief. Why would he do that? Had he read the note I left with him? What did he do with it if he didn’t give it to her?

  “She was so hurt that you left without a word…after kissing her,” she said with a sly grin.

  My cheeks heated at the thought of all the other things I had done after that kiss, but I couldn’t tell her surrogate grandmother that—and prayed that she hadn’t either. “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know…but I’m sure there’s some explanation to it all.” Yeah. He hates me. “I can’t imagine him wanting to hurt Charlotte like that, though,” she finished quietly.