Page 42 of Ardently Yours

I try to watch her every second, but I can’t. I can’t plop her into her crib while I go to the bathroom, anymore.

I wouldn’t survive losing Bronnie. I wouldn’t even want to. You tell me how strong I am all the time, but I’m not strong enough for that.

I don’t even know why I’m sending this. There’s nothing anyone can do about it.

Love, Charlotte

Runaway Train

Arden

September 4, 1998

She picks up onthe first ring, but all I hear is the sound of her choked sobs.

“Charlotte,” I say gently. “You’re all right. Bronnie is safe.”

“I shouldn’t have sent that email. Complaining about it doesn’t help anything. All I did was dra-drag you into my misery with me.”

“If something’s too heavy for you to carry alone, I want to pick up the other end.”

She cries harder.

“Honey, it’s over.”

“It’s never over. It’s constant vigilance. I’m afraid day and night. Worrying about Bronnie. Always on the verge of panic about Polford,” she says, her pitch too high.

I had no idea she was still afraid of him. “He won’t come back. I didn’t discuss this with you for confidentiality reasons, but my people set up a sting before he ran. Something tipped him off at the last minute, but we have all his interactions with someone he believed was a minor. Polford isn’t slinking back there. Law enforcement would be all over him.”

She laughs bitterly. “You can’t come into Blackwater and expect one of the pastor’s buddies to help you. The sheriff is the one who warned Polford what you were doing in the first place.”

Stunned, I grapple with her revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“It’s a rumor. What will you do? Stir everything up from a distance while the department uses me or Bianca as a scapegoat in retaliation? I love your white hat, Arden, but not when you’d put me in the crosshairs to wear it.”

If she’d told me her concerns, I’d have found a way to protect her from the fallout. I don’t have time to respond or consider how to deal with any of it. For now, Charlotte has moved on.

“I probably scarred Bronnie emotionally when I yelled at her, and it didn’t even work,” she says.

“You’re a wonderful mother. She’s fine.”

She hiccups her way through her words. “Sometimes, Ihate . . .doing this . . . alone.”

“Do you want me to come to you?”

After a brief hesitation, she says, “It’s not a good idea.”

Charlotte has my heart in a vise. “Okay. You do know it’s normal to get tired or feel like you don’t have all the answers? There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone to lean on. Everyone needs a break, sometimes.”

“Single moms don’t get a break.” She sniffles. “Ugh, I sound awful. My parents help me so much. It’s not like I’m out here with no one. I’m frustrated that I don’t know how to get through to her.”

I walk to my office window and look down at a view in the distance of Central Park. “Do you want me to brainstorm with you, or do you want a listening ear?”

“I don’t need you to be careful with me. I’m not offended if you have advice.”

“The worst thing in the world someone can say to Henry is ‘you can’t.’ His brain immediately starts trying to work out ways that he can. With Henry, I’ve found the best way to handle it is to give him an alternate solution we can both live with. If Bronnie wants to hang from things, instead of telling her to stop, you could try giving her safe places to do it.”

She’s silent for a long moment, then she groans. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. It’s so simple.”

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