Page 65 of Falling Slowly
Charlie’s soft, rough voice rumbled through me. “She would understand. She practically raised me, and I’m pretty sure she works at the company to keep an eye on me.”
“What about your mom?”
The sadness in his eyes was instant. “Mom’s a… busy woman. She would let me buy anything I wanted to keep me happy and out of her hair.”
“That doesn’t sound great.”
He’d really learned his lesson—spending money to keep himself occupied. But money couldn’t replace affection. I’d never thought of Charlie lacking anything, and the thought threw me.
“I really like Rhonda,” I said, poking at the fire with a stick. Sparkles erupted into the night air, dancing their way into the darkness.
It would have been so cozy, even romantic, under different circumstances.
“She likes you, too.” Charlie smiled, the flames now dancing in his eyes. “She told me I should get to know you.” A smile tugged at his mouth.
“Really? Why?”
I’d never thought of Rhonda as the meddling type. She seemed to stay out of the office drama, happy with her TV drama and cookies. But we’d discussed Charlie a whole lot. I’d always thought it was because she genuinely cared about him, regarded him as a wayward son of hers. Which, it turned out, he was, in a way. It all made sense now, even the fact that I knew what long hours Charlie worked. Had Rhonda been dropping hints about his whereabouts and better qualities for my benefit?
I had to smile, thinking about our fun, friendly chats. It had never even crossed my mind she’d been trying to get us together. She’d succeeded at one thing, though. Charlie had never been far from my mind.
“I’m now replaying every conversation I’ve ever had with Rhonda,” I confessed. “Everything she’s ever said about you…it all takes on a different meaning when I think of her as your grandmother.”
He nodded solemnly. “I guess it does.” For a moment, we both stared at the flames. When he spoke again, his voice had a heaviness to it. “I know what it looks like. I know what people think… and it’s true, in a way. When you work with family, you’ll always get special treatment. Either good or bad. People can’t be impartial with their own flesh and blood.” He let out a deep sigh. “I should have left a long time ago. I should have made my own way. But there’s this expectation… My sisters both married rich, took the easy way out.”
“Wait… I thought you were an only child?”
He shook his head. “Who said that?”
“Teresa.”
“Well. I hope you believe me over her.” He gave me a lopsided smile, and I felt ashamed. Teresa was my friend, but how well did she really know Charlie?
“Anyway. My sisters aren’t interested, so it’s all up to me… the responsibility, taking on the family business. The legacy. I feel like I have no choice.” He stared at the fire, arms resting over his knees, a solemn look in his eyes. I could practically see the weight on his hunched shoulders.
I’d never associated Charlie with responsibility. “I thought you had all the choices in the world, but I guess it’s not that simple.”
“There are choices, but none of them are easy. Me and Dad… we don’t agree on a lot. He doesn’t want my input when it comes to business, so I tend to stay out of his way and focus on the creative side. That’s not his strength and if I left, he’d lose a lot of business. That’s why he gives me so much freedom, to keep me at the helm. But I’m not invited to management meetings. The board is basically just him and his sycophants. I’m too idealistic. Apparently, I’d run the business to the ground if I had my way.”
I nodded in understanding. George would regularly go behind Rhonda’s back, making us fabricate more hours than we’d worked, to squeeze more money from clients. God forbid he had a down month. I was asked to lie on my time sheets nearly every month since I was faster than the others—an easy target. I’d always thought Charlie was in on it, enjoying the benefits of his dad’s dirty tactics.
“I always thought of you as an extension of George, in a way. Nicer, but still on the same side.”
“Trust me, we’re not.” He blew a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry you’re?—.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry for me.” His voice had an edge. “Life hasn’t been fair to you.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t take that out on you or anybody else.” As I spoke the words, I knew how much I needed to hear them. So much, that my eyes filled with tears of shame. “You’ve been so good to me.”
“I appreciate that, but you’re currently lost in the forest because of me. I don’t deserve a lot of praise.”
I had a sudden urge to touch him. I wanted to finish what we’d started. I wanted to be with him, even if it was for one night. What harm could it do? I needed to feel his body against mine, feel all that tension drain from both of us. Stop the apologizing and feeling awkward. Be in sync. Could I argue it was for our survival?
“George doesn’t praise you much, does he?”
He gave me a sad smile. “It’s not really his style.”
