Page 6 of My Favorite Lost Cause
I actuallycansee Charlie as a father. He’d accidentally make jokes about masturbation and porn in front of his toddlers, and his kids would get kicked out of preschool for profanity, but he’d also be fiercely protective and sweet beneath all that grouchiness.
“Anyhow,” he concludes, “I’m going to drink less, and you can now leave as promised.”
Oh, Charlie. He has every conceivable asset—he’s gorgeous, he’s charming, he’s smart—and he’s just throwing it away. Why?
“Don’t give me that look, Maren,” he growls.
“I’m not giving you a look.”
“Yes, you are. You are definitely giving me a fucking look.”
I swallow and he rolls his eyes.
“And don’t swallow either.” He rubs a hand over his face with a disgruntled laugh. “I never thought I’d hear myself say that to a woman. But don’t swallow like that.”
I can’t win with him. He’s mad if I speak, he’s mad if I’m nice to his overnight guests, he’s mad if I’m sympathetic. I’m about to concede defeat when he releases a weary exhale.
“Fine, I’ll go take a look. I’m not promising anything. My guess is the place needs to be razed, and I’m not doing a total rebuild if that’s the case. I have a job.”
I ignore that. Charlie does some kind of venture capital thing that I don’t totally understand—he’s currently bankrolling some new team in San Antonio—but his time is his own. He can go anywhere he wants.
“It’s in South Carolina, right?”
He slouches back in his chair like a beaten man, as if even the prospect of revisiting the state has exhausted him. “Yeah, near Beaufort.”
I close my eyes and picture it—sea pines, a sandy beach, the soft pulse of waves against the shore. I have no idea what it’s actually like, but I want to be there regardless. I need a break from my life here—Harvey’s demands and his constant complaints, the way my life has narrowed to nothing but him and this baby I don’t yet have. “Can I come?”
His head jerks. “Withme?”
I knew he’d object, but I didn’t realize the prospect wouldbe absolutely incomprehensible in its horror. “It might be good to have someone with you, Charlie, and?—”
His jaw locks. “Don’t you have your husband and the dogs to deal with?”
“Harvey’s out of town. The puppies can stay with Lori. And I’ve done a lot of design stuff, Charlie. I have no idea if I’m good at it, but?—”
“Of course you’re fucking good at it,” he growls.
I fight a smile. The minute anyone insults me, he’s my angry knight in shining armor. Even if I’m the one hurling the insults.
“Aren’t you about to do IVF?”
“Next month,” I reply, no longer able to meet his eye. I’m excited about IVF and dreading it at the same time. Apparently my ovaries won’t produce eggs without some help, a fact I wish I’d known before we spent two years trying to get pregnant. I want a baby. What I don’t want are the months of waiting, or the list of my failings from Harvey if it doesn’t work, along with the not-so-subtle reminder that he’d already have a kid by now if he’d married someone else.
Charlie studies me for a long moment, and then his shoulders sag. “You can come, but the second I hear the wordshiplap,you’ll be driving your ass back home.”
An idle threat if I’ve ever heard one—Charlie knows I barely drive.
My smile is wider than it should be.
I’m doing this to help him escape his misery. But it might be a brief escape from mine too.
4
MAREN
The trip comes together in a matter of days. I thought Charlie would fuck around for weeks or months stonewalling me, but I’d underestimated his desire to “get this bullshit over with,” as he so charmingly phrased it.
I think most of the bullshit is me. My presence. For a man who is generally patient and charming with everyone else, he is neither with me as we plan the trip, but as long as he shows up at the airport, I’m okay with that.
