Play It Again, Charlie (60 page)

“Be careful, the glass is heavy,” he reminded her as she drank it all, though she hadn't spilled in a long time. When he looked up, Will was giving him that thoughtful look again and frowning. Then Alicia burped and handed Charlie back his glass and demanded he pick her up like he'd done since she was two.

With a wince, he did, immediately setting her on the counter by the now-cool stovetop. He had to put a hand to his back and forgot about the juice.

“You see?” he heard Nana say. He glanced over, but they weren't looking at him anymore.

“Again,” Alicia demanded, and Charlie set down the glass to reach for her.

“Alicia!” Nana interrupted, saving Charlie from further injury. “Come down. It's time for your movie.” After she jumped down, Charlie sighed and followed her over to the table. He picked up more plates and cut off Nana before she could say anything.

“I can get it. Don't worry. I'll clean up and you can rest.”

“Charlie, I can— ” Will hopped up, and Charlie shook his head, keeping the irritation out of his voice.

“It's just dishes.” He didn't want to hear anything about man's work, either.

Will put up a hand but didn't say anything when Nana got to her feet. She gave Charlie a searching look and then waved at Alicia, who skidded to a stop between her and Will and then gazed up at Will.

Even after hours of knowing her, Will still looked alarmed by her attention.

“William, would you like to see pictures of my grandchildren?” Abuela offered, too warmly, and Charlie froze with his hands full of dishes. He couldn't beg, not with Will there, and he'd already asked her to go easy.

Will gestured at the air, obviously trying to remember the family relations. “I've only seen the pictures on his refrigerator.”

“He doesn't want to see those, Nana.”

“I'd love it.” Will's chin went up, and then there were two of them staring blandly at him. Alicia, at least, was still smiling.

“Put them in the sink, Carlos, then join us.” She'd spoken, there was no way out of it. But when he exhaled, her voice softened. “Este chico no es como tu papa.” She was gentle. She grabbed Will's hand so he had to go with her and then left the room, Alicia following after them.

Will
wasn't
like his father, but that didn't mean anything.

There were photo albums in the shelves in there, not just the pictures on the wall. Charlie stayed where he was, trying to listen through the door. He heard the TV, some movie starting up, Alicia settling down.

Then he moved to the sink, going back and forth a few times until the table was clear. Then he loaded the dishwasher without turning it on. He wrapped up everything else and put it in the fridge next to the leftovers he was supposed to take home with him, then paused.

He got some water before slowly sitting back down at the table. He wasn't sure if he was wanted in the other room yet, if he was even ready to face that. He had a pretty good idea of what was being talked about on the other side of the door, so much so it was easy to imagine Will's curiosity and the albums displayed to attract it, and the cooing over wedding photos and Charlie in a rented tux and adorable grade school pictures of his sisters. Then there would be the rest, but he'd known Nana would share that before he'd decided to bring Will out here.

He should have had another beer. But he shoved his water aside and then went to the door. Hearing his mother's name through the wood made him stop.

“
Mija
— my Marisol. She was young.”

“Is that a hospital bed?”

“Yes.”

Charlie shut his eyes. Will took a moment, suddenly speaking as carefully as he had when he'd first arrived here.

“Is that Charlie with her? What is he, like, fifteen? Oh, he's a baby.”

“A young man,” Nana instantly corrected him. “Young, but a man.” She let out a long, sad breath that made Charlie put a hand to the door.

Will had been intrigued enough when she'd said that earlier; of course he was going to comment on it now.

“You said that before. What does that mean, exactly? If you don't mind me asking.” Charlie almost smiled at Will's manners making a sudden appearance, but then he wondered how she would answer. But if she responded to that, he couldn't hear anything but plastic crackling as she moved on to another picture.

“There are his sisters.” Will was probably grumbling to himself about how this family wouldn't share things with him, but he didn't object when he was shown a series of new pictures. Charlie should have told him about them, warned him what he was in for. His chest was tight with nerves but warm to think of Will listening to all this. He hoped, prayed, it would last.

“Uh, Ann, right? The maker of the tack— lovely pillows. And... .” Will was probably rolling his wrist.

“This is Missy and this is Kate— little Katia.”

“Mama,” Alicia chimed in from the floor, though her voice was heavy. It was late for her to be up.

“Aw, look at them all together, that's so cute. All in their Easter best. This picture is from outside.” He paused again. Charlie opened his eyes, imagined his thoughtful face as he considered things. “They lived here with you?”

“She was too ill. They are family. My family.” Nana would be crossing herself or maybe tapping her heart and then the picture of his mother. Either way, Will should be starting to understand everything now. Nana was doing her best to make sure Charlie would be okay and, in doing so, putting too much on someone else, especially someone like Will, who wasn't used to any responsibilities. But she was wrong. Will could stay with Charlie, and Charlie would do his best to make sure he wouldn't have to take on all of his family too.

“Oh.” Will was quiet, not a good sign. “How? As young as they are in the picture? As young as she was? I mean, I'm sorry.” The condolence was both sincere and awkward, as though Will had never had to offer one before, and his youth and inexperience were one more reason this was a bad idea. Too much too soon.

It had been a mistake to think Nana would hold back. He wondered which pictures she was showing Will, if they were the ones he remembered of the hospital, soft focus and bad lighting only making his mother look sicker, pale and tired and small. He remembered how quickly she'd gotten fed up with wigs. Towards the end she hadn't even bothered with scarves. But she'd always smiled for the camera, Charlie assumed for moments like this one, so they'd be able to look at pictures of her someday and smile the way Nana most likely was.

Will cleared his throat and tried to lighten his tone. “Who's this handsome devil? I don't see him in any of the other pictures.”

“Their father.” Nana went from gentle to furious without raising her voice to disturb Alicia. Charlie bit his lip right as Will went, “Oh,” in a stricken voice. “The illness, the cancer, it was too much for him. He was a boy. It is no easy thing to raise a family, even for a grown man, even with my help, with the family's help. Carlos was more of a man.”

“He left her?” Will was so quick, not failing to miss her point. “Oh, Charlie. He was just a baby.”

“He was a man.” Charlie had been fifteen and too scared to be furious like Ann.

“Wait, you mean
Charlie
raised them?” Will gasped. “His three sisters?”

“He takes care of his family, do you understand? Before anything else.” Nana forgot herself enough to say it first in a fierce stream of Spanish and then stopped herself and translated. “Because that bastard left.”

“He left while she was in the hospital?” Will was quietly shocked, though Charlie barely heard him.

He didn't have her anger or the lingering resentment of his sisters. Speaking of his father just made him feel tired and young all over again. He had no idea what Will was feeling, getting their family drama dumped in his lap. Will had his own to deal with; this was probably too much.

Charlie cracked the door open enough to see into the room. The two of them were on the sofa. Nana's back was to him, but he could see Will's face. Will was looking down, slowly flipping through a photo album, sometimes stopping to stare or skipping backward to look at something again. For once what he was thinking wasn't all over his face.

Charlie pulled back and cleared his throat. “Will, want another beer?”

It took a moment for Will to answer, and then it was faint through the door.

“No.” There wasn't a smile in Will's voice. “No, Charlie.”

“Nana?” He was as good as telling her he was listening.

“We are fine, Carlos.” She didn't show any signs of stopping. Will must have chosen a different photograph to study, because she was talking only to him now. “She had so much love in her.”

“She was pretty.” Nana would like that.

“
Si
. Carlos has her eyes.”

“Your eyes too,” Will pointed out, so charming that anyone else would have loved him, but Nana was still bent on scaring him away, or as she would put it, seeing if he was strong enough before Charlie wasted more of his time.

“What's this one? Oh, Charlie in uniform! You have no idea how I've been waiting to see that.” The odds were good Will was touching the picture and carefully considering Charlie's haircut. “So he did have horrible buzzed hair. And he couldn't just tell m— oh, and there's Mark, of course.
Mark
.” Will coughed, but at least didn't begin to spew out apologies.

He should have gone on, Charlie thought vaguely. Nana would have let him say anything he wanted about Mark. Instead his tone lifted.

“Charlie was popular, huh? And busy too, I bet. Bet he worked a lot and you were worried.”

“
Por supuesto
— of course. My Carlito worked hard to take care of us. Not himself. That is what he needs. What we need.”

Damn it. He could tell Will was about to ask something, only then the crinkle of plastic meant he'd turned another page. “Oh.
Oh.
” It was not wonder in his tone, it was too flat and tense for that. For one second he was shocked, and then he tried to hide it. “I didn't know. Of
course
it was that bad, Charlie.”

Charlie leaned into the door, frowning as he thought about the photo albums in the family room, about which one Will was currently looking at. He heard Nana say something about the accident, and then he went still as he understood.

Ann had been taking photography classes when Charlie had been in the hospital. If Charlie had been conscious he would have told her not to take the pictures, though the pictures of him asleep or in that hospital bed with his books weren't as bad as the pictures of him in physical therapy using a walker like an old man. There was a chance she was showing Will the nicer pictures, Charlie awake with baby Alicia in his arms, Charlie back at his apartment with Ann under his arm, Charlie trying to smile for the camera, but he knew she wasn't when Will gasped again.

He'd been a mess of bruises and bandages in the early pictures, stitched gashes all over his left side. Later he'd been a shaking, miserable mess, hardly able to stand.

“He would not even allow Anita to help him for long. He is strong, but he walked before they said he should. I think he did not want to worry us.”

“That was a stupid fucking thing to do,” Will blurted out, then immediately gasped. “Alicia's asleep, thank goodness. I mean, er... .”

“Yes, it was.” Nana wouldn't let him take it back. It would take more than that to startle her anyway, or so Charlie thought until her voice cracked.

“He raised his sisters, took care of them, of me, while I mourned my daughter and then again while he was in pain, and they should not have let him. They need him, William, but he should not have let them. He is strong. Maybe too much. I could not make him understand that.” Nana wasn't going to stop, not until Will was running away. “Do
you
understand, William? He needs someone
strong
.”

Her voice was too intense. Charlie pushed open the door and stepped in, but neither of them looked up. Will was frowning, a small but very real line formed between his eyes, and then Nana nodded and he broke eye contact by looking over at Charlie.

“What happened? I mean, I know it was a car and he hurt his hip. That was... that was all he would tell me.” His voice said he was unhappy, but there was nothing on his face for Charlie to read, no hint of what to say or how to apologize.

“It broke his hip, his upper leg, his arm, where the truck hit the car. His car, he was driving. There were many surgeries. Carlos was in pain for a long time. He didn't tell you?”

Nana seemed honestly confused by that for one moment, and then her sigh was heartbreaking. “
Carlos
. William, you must make him... .”

“Charlie,” Will finally addressed Charlie, almost in the same breath. “I could use that beer now.”

Charlie swallowed but didn't move. He couldn't any more than he could stop staring. Will wasn't even frowning, he wasn't doing or saying anything, and Charlie knew what that meant. He was going to leave.

“Carlito,” Nana tried to interrupt, but she'd said enough. He couldn't even blame her. She was trying to protect him, but he couldn't look at her.

“Actually, I think Will and I should head back. It's getting late, and I'm sure Will... .” He didn't finish. “We should be getting back.’

Will finally dropped his gaze. He was as quiet as he'd been the night Charlie had kicked him out, but even his abuela had to hear the brittle edge in his voice. “Whatever you say, Charlie.”

She must have heard it. Nana had been soft and urgent at Charlie's side during those last few moments, trying to whisper something privately to him that Charlie hadn't wanted to hear. If it was for his own good he especially didn't want to hear it. Whatever her reasons for making this happen, Will was going to go now too, and there was nothing Charlie could do about it but wait for the inevitable.

“Carlos, this one is different,” she had tried at the last minute when Charlie's arms had been full of leftover tamales and Will had been standing by the car. Charlie had kissed the top of her head without meeting her eyes and then nodded.