Page 44 of Pages of My Heart
He’s a little tipsy himself, the boys buying him drinks and riling him up all evening. His plan to get in and out within an hour has already gone out the window. Feigning interest in women is a practiced skill, and he feels like an accomplished mimic as he continues to talk lewdly about an elegant brunette across the room. Pretending is something he’s always done, for as long as he can remember. Thomas seems to be more naturally masculine—from the way he walks and talks to the authoritative persona he projects when he teaches. But Charlie has always had to hide his true self, having perfected a facade he learned from his father and brother. He can’t do anything about his smaller build, but he deepens his voice and stands with his feet wide apart. He keeps his hands in his pockets in case they appear too effeminate. Most of all, he keeps his eyes off other men, lest his hidden desires be too obvious.
When he was little, his father burned him with a cigarette for playing with Evie’s dolls and started calling him a fairy. When he was bullied at school by the bigger boys, his father took the strap to him to teach him that real men fight back. And when he was eleven, his father stumbled upon him looking admiringly through his mother’s jewelry box and beat him unconscious. He was much more careful after that. It’s only been since Charlie found Thomas that he has allowed the hidden parts of himself to be seen. With Thomas, he is safe being soft. Gentle even.
Jack’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Charlie, she wants you, buddy. Look at her batting her eyes . . . that coy little smile.” He nudges Charlie’s arm. “Come on, go get her. Show us how you do it. Show us that Charlie charm you’re always on about.”
He gulps down the last of his beer, panic stealing through his veins.
“Yeah, Miller,” John says, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Take her upstairs and fondle those milky white tits like you said you would. We’ve never actually seen you with a girl, you know . . . you’re not all talk, are you?”
“Fuck no.”
Charlie pushes his empty glass into John’s hand and saunters toward the brunette. His heart is racing, tripping over itself with fear. Thomas’s sad green eyes flash before him. There must be a way out of this, but he needs to convince the guys from the garage that he’s normal, just like them. As he nears the brunette, she smiles and flicks at her hair. Even Charlie can see that she is beautiful. She has dark brown eyes and long, thick lashes, her cheekbones are high and her lips full, and she has a slim yet curvaceous figure. He forces his mouth into a confident smile as he approaches, quickly running through all the things Evie says she likes to see in men that might help him get through this lie.
“Hello there, Miss. I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. You gotta be the most beautiful girl in here. Can I buy you a drink?”
She giggles, her shoulders pulling up as her chin drops down. “But you haven’t even introduced yourself, Mr . . .?”
“Sorry. Name’s Charlie. My buddy from work is leaving for basic training the day after tomorrow and we’re giving him a fine send-off.” He steps in closer. “Can I ask your name?”
She holds out her hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charlie. I’m Virginia.” Charlie takes her hand and drops a quick kiss to her knuckles.
He motions to one of the serving girls to bring them a couple of drinks and then proceeds to asks Virginia every question hecan think of, his eyes constantly flickering over to John and Jack, who are observing him from across the room. They stupidly mime kissing, and groping breasts, and even humping. Ten minutes later he’s already finished his new beer and exhausted every topic and still his friends have their eyes on him, watching. Waiting. Hecannotdo anything with this woman. He can’t betray Thomas like that. The last time he forced himself to kiss and hold a woman was when he was engaged to Ruthie and still living under his father’s roof. It had felt so wrong, feelings of nausea crashing over him when she would push her tongue inside his mouth. Just the thought of it now makes his stomach lurch.
A bead of sweat runs down his back as he steps in closer to Virginia, whispering in her ear, “Would you like to go someplace a little quieter?”
Virginia blushes, biting down on her lower lip as she places her hand on his chest. “Why, yes, I would. It’s much too noisy in here.”
Charlie leans in and kisses her on the cheek, then takes her hand and leads her toward the stairs. He parades her past John and Jack, winking cockily at them with fake arrogance as they hoot and holler. Upstairs is a lounge area sectioned off into different rooms of various sizes. The room in which they find themselves is decorated with plush velvet couches atop rich burgundy carpet, and the music is slow and romantic. The lights are dim, and in the dark recesses and corners couples are necking. The dread that’s settled in Charlie’s gut is like a twenty pound stone. He has no idea how to get himself out of this. No idea how he can escape the club alone without Jack or John or one of the others seeing him leave.
Virginia tugs on his clammy hand and pulls him toward a small love seat in the far corner. They sit, and she shuffles closer,resting her hand on his shoulder. “You’re very handsome,” she says, fingering his jacket lapel and then laying her hand on his chest again, moving it slowly until it rests right over his heart. “You can kiss me, if you’d like.”
Charlie shoots up to his feet. “How about a dance first?” He holds out his hand to her, sweat now beading at his temples. The place where her hand just rested seems to burn beneath his shirt, Tommy’s tattoo itching at his skin.
“Oh, Charlie, you are a gentleman.”
Virginia takes his hand and stands, and they move into position. Once they start swaying to the music, Charlie realizes this is the worst possible thing he could have suggested. Slow dancing is something reserved for Thomas, something so intimate and special to them both. Virginia moves in closer, moving her hand up behind his neck, her breath fanning too hot along his jaw. Her lips brush against the skin above his collar and he has to resist the urge to pull away. She presses against him and his muscles turn rigid. Her soft breasts, her rounded hips, her tiny, delicate hands, the sweet, cloying scent of her perfume. It’s allwrong.
Charlie abruptly steps back, hands held up awkwardly as if she’s pulled a gun on him. Virginia looks up at him, eyes blinking in confusion.
“I—I’m sorry,” he just manages to get out. “I gotta go.”
He doesn’t wait for her to reply, just strides to the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he rushes toward the front door, he almost barrels straight into Jack.
“Hey! Charlie—” Jack’s smile drops as he looks around, frowning. “Where’s the hot doll?”
“Oh yeah . . . Virginia. Things were, uh, gettin’ a little too hot and heavy up there, so she’s coming back to my place for a nightcap”—Charlie jabs Jack in the ribs with hiselbow—“if ya know what I mean.” He winks for effect, trying to cover his panic. “She’s just powdering her nose while I hail us a cab. See ya at the garage, Jack.”
Charlie doesn’t linger, Jack calling out after him as he pushes to get outside, “Damn, Charlie, you got all the moves!”
It’s late by the time Charlie arrives home. Even though nothing really happened between him and the girl at the club, he still feels like he did something wrong. Thomas was right, he shouldn’t have gone. But what choice did he have? As he slips the key into the lock, he prays that Thomas is already asleep. The house is dark and still, so he closes the door carefully and quietly toes off his shoes, creeping through the sitting room toward the bathroom.
“It’s late.”
“Jesus!” Charlie spins toward Thomas’s voice, startled by his ice-cold tone. “What are you doing? Are you just sittin’ there in the dark?”
He can just barely make out Thomas’s silhouette. He strains to see as Thomas leans over and turns on the lamp, then Charlie’s blinking at the sudden bright light.
“Why are you creeping in like you’ve got something to hide?”
