Page 85 of My Favorite Lost Cause
Margaret is secretive about the months that follow. She alludes to William’s romantic letters and how much she misses him, but it’s as if what transpires between them is too private to even be put into words. I sort of get that. I wouldn’t want to risk someone reading about most of my moments with Charlie either, though I suspect my moments with him are a lot more X-rated than hers were with William.
When war is declared in April, Sam marries Millie in a very small ceremony and brings her back to Riverbend. Most of the boys enlist in the army, but William chooses the Marines, as they’re training at Parris Island, which is closer to Oak Bluff than the other bases. Margaret sees him most weekends, and they talk about how they’ll marry as soon as his tour is done. He won’t marry her before he goes, the way Sam did Millie, because he doesn’t want to leave her a widow if the worst happens.
I no longer see much of Charlie in William, but I guess the excuses to avoid marriage line up.
Charlie wakes just as William is getting ready to ship out and nestles against me. “I thought you didn’t want to know how it turned out?”
“I changed my mind. Except William’s going off to war, so I might have been right in the first place.”
His hand glides over my bare hip. “So are you going to read it to me? If he’s going off to war, I’ll probably cry.”
I bury my grin into my pillow. “That’s okay. I like a guy who’s in touch with his feminine side.”
Charlie’s hand tightens. “Feminineside? I can show you exactly how feminine it is, if necessary.”
I thrill at the prospect and have to struggle not to show it. “All I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with showing some emotion,” I reply, setting the journal on the nightstand.
“I think it’s pretty sexist of you to imply that showing emotion isfeminine.”
“I think it’s pretty sexist of you to criticize me when I’m just trying to let you know it’s okay to cry.”
“Ah,” he nods, rolling me beneath him. “So when a man criticizes a woman it’s sexist, but not when a woman criticizes a man? Different rules for each gender—isn’t there a name for that?”
I pull his mouth to mine. All he’s done is climb above me and I’m already wet. “Stop arguing. Save your energy for those unshed tears.”
“Oddly enough,” he says, pushing my thighs apart, “this discussion has me wanting to expend my energy on something else entirely.”
He pushes inside me without warning, knocking the air from my chest, knocking all thoughts of William from my head.
There is only Charlie and nobody else. I can’t imagine it will ever be any other way.
38
MAREN
There are two important calls the following week: one from Marais & Wolfe, dropping the bit in the contract about weigh-ins. I guess it’s good news, though it does mean I’ve got to be in New York for a fitting one week from today and Barcelona not long after.
The second call, which matters far more to me, is from Andrew.
“I’ve got some good news,” he says when I pick up the phone. “I did a little investigating, and that developer? He’s done this to several other people. There’s actually a lawsuit being brought against him for trying to use a loophole to take some Native American land in the center of the state.”
I’m slow to see how any of this helps us. A guy who’d try to take land from Native Americans isn’t going to feelworseabout taking it from a moderately well-off venture capitalist.
“So is the lawsuit going to stop him from doing it to us?” I ask.
“No,” Andrew says. “But I’ve now got several reporters looking into the story. Once they start investigating which government officials have been helping him along, peoplewon’t be able to back off fast enough. I’ve also got a representative down there promising his staff is looking into your situation. Give it a week, and the state will reverse everything it’s said to date.”
Wow. Andrew has often said hehopessomething will work, or that it’spossible. I’ve never heard him say it definitively like this.
“It sounds like you think it’s really going to work out,” I whisper, stunned.
“It one hundred percent is going to work out, Maren. I’d stake my life on it.”
I sink back into my chair. I can’t believe it’s about to solved, just like that.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping us,” I tell him.
He laughs. “I can think of some ways, but given that you’re still in South Carolina, I imagine Charlie would object.”
