Page 94 of Falling Slowly
I nodded.
“Let’s go sit in my car. Just for a minute.” He pulled me down the path towards that shiny Porsche.
The interior smelled of leather, still warm from the drive. Charlie flicked on the power, adjusting the heat until I felt the blissful warmth of the seat warmer through my bathrobe. “This is nice.”
“It’s not a family car,” he said grimly, looking out the window. “We can trade to something more practical.”
“Trade? What? Why?” My brain spun in circles, grasping for meaning.
“I mean, I’m not a huge fan of minivans, but I’ll go for whatever?—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I stared at him, feeling a little ill. I had to find that pill. Maybe another one for Charlie. “Nobody is asking you to trade cars. We’re not even supposed to be together, right? Not publicly. Not at work. I’ve loved this week, but this is the end of the road for us, Charlie. You know that, right?” The pain followed like a mini tsunami as I heard my own words.
I’d tried my hardest not to think about the future, but staring at the new dawn behind the windscreen, with my mother and child a few yards away, I could no longer hold the sobering thoughts at bay.
I could see my own pain reflected in Charlie’s eyes, but coupled with a dose of obstinance I wasn’t capable of. “No, I don’t know that. What does work have to do with any of it? We found each other! There’s something between us. You can’t deny that.” He shot me a look of challenge.
I couldn’t deny anything, but while I searched for words, his face softened, taking on a hint of desperation. “Are you breaking up with me, Bess?”
“We can’t break up. We’re not together.”
He took my hands in his, staring at them. “How about this? We play a couple for one more day. No talk about the future or the office… other than the campaign, if you want to help me with that. But otherwise, we pretend that stuff doesn’t exist. We’re just two people traveling in the mountains.”
Outside the window, the tips of the spruce trees glowed in the morning sun like a row of bright teepees. It was going to be a beautiful day.
“What about my mom and Celia? They know we’re not really dating.”
“You told your mom you needed a morning-after pill. If she still thinks we’re platonic buddies, I don’t think we need to worry about her skills of detection.”
I let out a sad chuckle. “Yeah, okay. She knows we slept together, but I told her I can’t risk getting involved.”
“You’re already involved, Bess, and you know it. I know I’m involved up to my eyeballs. Even your mom knows that.”
“But, next week?—”
“Can you give me this one day? Just one day since we’re still here.”
“One day,” I said slowly. “What difference does one day make?”
Charlie held up one finger, grabbed his phone off the hands-free stand and opened Spotify. ‘What a difference a day makes’ by Dinah Washington flooded through the car speakers, filling the space between us with its old-fashioned charm.
Charlie crooned along as the song reached its crescendo. He had a nice voice.
I couldn’t help smiling and he used the opportunity to pull me against his chest, whispering into my hair. “Is that a yes?”
“One day,” I whispered.
There was no harm in playing for a little while longer. If I fell pregnant because of my own clumsiness, I’d at least have one day of beautiful memories to keep me company. That, and two kids I couldn’t afford to feed.
Oh, dear Lord. I had to find that pill.
“I’m not perfect,” he said, his eyes glistening with gravity. “I make mistakes and I’m going to mess this up. But I’m hoping, by then, the good things weigh more.”
“I’m not perfect either,” I said, swallowing hard. My mistakes could cost us dearly. More than he knew.
“Bess, I’m falling?—”
I placed a finger on his lips, trapping the words. I couldn’t bear to hear them. I knew my heart would spit out the echo of them without a moment’s thought. There’d be no going back. “Don’t say it, Charlie.”
