Page 67 of No More Words

Charlotte lifts her chin. “What about it?”

“It’s back. Actually, it never stopped really. But there’s more to it now, like the story’s continuing, or I’m remembering something I forgot. I don’t sleep so I don’t dream. I’m so tired,” she explains. Her mom can help make sense of her dreams. Dwight always encouraged her not to put too much faith in them. But isn’t there some truth buried in recurring nightmares?

Charlotte twists the pearl on her necklace. “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you tried drinking tea?”

More like bourbon and a cigarette. Olivia shakes her head.

“Lemon balm works for me. What is it, dear?” Charlotte untucks Olivia’s collar stuck under her purse strap.

“Josh thinks Dad might have pushed him. He hit his head. That’s why he has trouble talking.” The idea Dwight attacked Josh horrifies her every time she thinks about it.

Charlotte’s skin above the neckline of her blouse dulls to a pale peach. “Not possible. Your father wouldn’t ... I mean, he has a temper ...”

“He’s not sure, Mom. I didn’t think Dad was capable of it either. But I can’t stop thinking about that dream and what you said about not letting Dad know Josh is here. It makes me think he is capable. Please tell me I’m wrong.” She needs to know that she is. She has to be looking at this all wrong. The father she knows can’t be that monstrous.

“It’s just a dream, Olivia.” Her voice is paper-thin.

“Maybe. But I think we both know Dad found Lily. What’s her address?”

Charlotte weaves. She puts a hand on the wall. “I don’t have it.”

“But Dad does. Let me look.” She gestures at his office. “He’ll never know I was in here.”

“No.” Charlotte’s eyelids blink rapidly before fluttering closed. She gasps softly and like thick paint poured over canvas, she crumples to the floor. Olivia feels out of breath and can only imagine what was racing through Charlotte’s mind. Is she that scared of her husband?

“Mom.” Olivia catches her before she knocks her head on the hardwood floor.

It only takes a few seconds for Charlotte to rouse. Olivia sees when her mom brings her into focus. “Darling.” Charlotte looks around her. “You saved me.”

“Caught you just in time. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The first time Olivia recalls her mom fainting was years ago when her parents had been arguing at the dinner table. Grandmother Val had just passed away and Dwight was incensed Charlotte didn’t inherit even a dime with pocket lint, nothing but old furniture that they stored in the garage apartment. He pounded a fist on the table, shook his other in her face, and Charlotte dropped to the floor. Mayhem ensued. Lily cried in her high chair. Lucas called 9-1-1, and Olivia held her mom’s hand. Olivia had never been so afraid for her mom. Dwight adjusted Charlotte’s head onto his lap and begged her to forgive him. The ambulance took her to ER, the doctor examined her, and she was released later that nightwith a diagnosis and prescription for anxiety. Charlotte, it would seem, has an innate fear of confrontation whenever the subject makes her uncomfortable. She literally shuts down.

“Sorry I pushed you about Lily.” Olivia cradles Charlotte’s head, now seeing what Lucas said in his text. Discussing Lily stresses out their mom. Olivia’s only just realized how sensitive Charlotte is about her youngest. “How are you feeling? Light-headed?”

Charlotte moans softly. She tries to stand.

“Take it slow.” Olivia helps her to her feet and walks her into the bedroom.

“My pills, darling.” Charlotte points toward the bathroom, wiggling her fingers. “They’re on the shelf.”

Olivia helps her onto the bed and goes into the bathroom. The top shelf is cluttered with prescription bottles. Lopressors, anti-inflammatories, anxiety meds. Olivia twists the bottles so the labels face outward.

“Which one?” she asks.

“The clonazepam.”

The same med she’s seen Lucas pop when he doesn’t think she’s looking. Sheesh. Her family is a hot mess of anxiety. Locating the bottle, which is almost empty, she pours a glass of water and takes both to her mom. Charlotte sits against the headboard. “You should stay home and rest.” Olivia gives her the pill and water.

“Can’t.” Charlotte washes down the medicine. “Several interested buyers are touring the house. We’re expecting at least two offers by this evening.”

“Promise you’ll take it easy?”

Charlotte’s gaze jumps upward.

“Mom.”

“Yes, yes. I will. Happy?” She gives Olivia the empty glass and stands, smoothing the creases from her skirt.

Charlotte follows Olivia onto the porch, and this time, she bolts the front door. Charlotte’s way of telling Olivia to leave Dwight’s office alone.

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