Page 89 of Falling Slowly
“It’ll be my problem if I can’t call you.”
“Here’s my number.” Mom interrupted, sticking a piece of paper in Charlie’s hand. “You can contact us on this. And my daughter is most grateful for your offer to replace that phone if you can’t find it. She’s having trouble remembering her manners.”
“That’s okay. Tell her it’ll be my pleasure. I love shopping.”
Charlie winked at me, pocketing the note. He crouched down to say good night to Celia, teaching her an elaborate handshake that involved some slapping and clapping and lots of giggling on the girl’s part. Finally, he stood up and gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen. “Are you okay?”
I nodded a little shakily. “Are you?”
He looked like he was about to say something, but instead waved his hand and pivoted on his heels, rushing down the steps. I watched him jog down the path towards the parking lot, eventually disappearing into the shadows.
For a moment, I felt his absence like a tangible void, a vortex of negative ions that seemed to suck the joy right out of me. How was I supposed to neutralize the effect of Charlie fucking Wilde?
I’d made myself a cup of tea when I heard knocking. Had he come back? I put down the cup, my heart pulling me toward the door until I realized it wasn’t him.
It was Trevor.
The burly, bearded, six-foot-five Scot with a distinctive laugh I could both hear and recognize from anywhere in the office. But he wasn’t laughing. Swiping his mop of curly hair off his eyes, Trevor handed me a paper bag with a pharmacy logo on it.
It took me embarrassingly long to figure out what it was. The morning-after pill! The delivery man Charlie had arranged was his star copywriter who worked with our biggest clients and had a way with the words that could turn every woman’s knees to jello—he’d proven that on one slam poetry open mic night I’d uncharacteristically taken part in. Now, staring at his slightly hunched frame and apologetic face, I thought of the haunting lines he’d written for his deceased mother.
“Please, don’t tell anyone,” I asked breathlessly.
“I already promised Charlie. I’m not a gossip.”
“Of course not.”
“Well, I better get back.”
“Right away? It’s such a long drive.” I frowned, staring at the paper bag. At work, I struggled to order more toner for the printer and now I was getting one pill hand delivered. The whole thing seemed insane.
Trevor flicked his wrist to dismiss my worries. “Trust me. Right now, it bodes well for me if Charlie owes me a favor. The bigger, the better.”
“Why? What do you need from him?”
Trevor looked a little startled, like he’d remembered something. “No reason. Nothing. Um… It’s just something I like to have in my back pocket to pull out at an opportune time.” He flashed a cheeky smile, wiggling his eyebrows, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he was hiding something.
I didn’t have time to figure it out, though, before he excused himself, jogging back to his car.
I closed the door as Mom appeared. “Celia’s ready for bed. Who was that?”
“A delivery guy,” I said, too tired to explain. “He dropped off the morning-after pill.”
“Wow! That’s an amazing service. You wouldn’t think it’s even possible in such a remote location.” She nodded appreciatively, wandering off.
“It’s not,” I said quietly to myself.
But with Charlie, things seemed possible. How would I cope with my old life after tasting such freedom and ease? I’d begun to believe in good things in a way that was most certainly foolish, and likely to cause pain. I was also growing attached to the beautiful things. The cabin was filled with them. It was the kind of space I would create if I’d ever had the money. The kind of space I wanted to be mine.
For a long time, I’d told myself it was best not to want for or even dream too much. When you weren’t moving towards thosedreams, they became irrelevant, even hurtful. But having the front-row seat to Charlie’s reality had stirred up the old dreams. I’d caught myself mentally identifying with his world, sensing those same possibilities. If I wasn’t careful, I’d succumb to my old Pinterest addiction.
While I feared the impending reality check, I also loved that glimpse of the old me. The person I’d been with Jack in the good old days. We’d shared so many ideas, our heads in the clouds, minds full of excitement and endless belief. Well, him more than me, always. But I’d been far more trusting. So much more optimistic. I’d been ready to take risks.
The brave wolf has a fat chest.
I tried to laugh at the ridiculous Estonian saying, but it niggled at me. I’d been the brave little wolf. I’d ventured off the familiar path, chasing something elusive and exciting, and that’s why I no longer had a phone. That’s why my heart fluttered around Charlie and I couldn’t even think about returning to the office. That’s what risk-taking brought me: trouble on top of trouble.
Chapter Thirty-Five
