When We Fall (24 page)

“I
t's just me!” Allison's mother announced, letting herself in the front door. “Not a thief or a serial killer, in case you were concerned.” She walked into the kitchen carrying two stuffed bags of groceries.

“Good to know. The last thing I need right now is to be robbed or murdered,” Allison deadpanned, taking the bags from her mother and kissing her on the cheek.

“You really need to start locking your door. I mean, for God's sake, you're all alone here.”

“Not
all
alone.” Allison looked at Logan, who was lounging on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, entranced by some tween-type show on Nickelodeon.

“You know what I mean.” She started unpacking green apples and purple grapes the size of silver dollars.

“One more episode before lunch!” Allison called out.

“Okay, Mom.” He wagged his arm in the air. “Hi, Grandma.”

“Hello, my darling.” She smiled in his direction and then turned her attention back to Allison. “So?”

“So, what?”

“So how are you doing? You must feel relieved.”

“I'm not sure that's the word I'd use.”

Two days after the gala, Missy had appeared on Allison's doorstep in an effort to mend things, to finally be the friend she'd said she always wanted to be, and to repay Allison for her goodwill the day of her mother's hip surgery. She'd said that she went to Charlotte and asked to see Allison's “love letter” to Charlie. Missy had insisted that something didn't add up. She'd also confessed that Sabrina had come clean the day before, admitting that she'd read the letter first, the whole journal, in fact, and had intentionally earmarked that page in order to pique Charlotte's curiosity.

Missy had then taken the journal back to Allison, who'd explained—in no uncertain terms—that said letter had been intended for Jack. That she'd ripped out the sketch on the page before it, which had read
My Dearest Jack
at the top, in a fit of frustration, and that if she hadn't, the separation between her journal entry from that night—the night Charlie and Gia had been over for dinner—and her profession of love to her dead husband would have been abundantly clear.

Missy had maintained that she was finally fed up with Sabrina and divulged that right about the time Allison had moved to Wincourt, Sabrina had discovered that her husband, Craig, was having an affair, apparently not his first. Sabrina had sworn Missy to secrecy, threatening to “ruin her life” if anyone found out. It wasn't that Sabrina had thought Allison was the culprit, but still, she'd represented everything Sabrina despised in other women—not to mention that she'd felt Allison was usurping her place as Charlotte's best friend.

In other words, the whole thing had been a dreadful misunderstanding. A misunderstanding that had impacted too many lives and relationships.

“Have you spoken to Charlotte?”

“Only briefly yesterday afternoon.”

“What did she say?”

“What could she say? She's sorry. Humiliated. She understands if I can never forgive her, but she hopes that I will. At some point.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I need time. That I get where she was coming from now but that it's not that easy.” Allison handed her mother some tea. “Mom, I went into town to go to the bank yesterday and it felt like everyone was staring at me. It doesn't go away just because it was a mistake or because someone apologizes.”

“I agree.” She accepted the steaming mug gratefully and rubbed Allison's back with her free hand. “I think it was awfully generous of you to even accept her call.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure she's suffering right about now. I can't imagine this helped things with Charlie. There's still a lot of damage that's been done.”

“I know, sweetheart. But it will get better, I promise.”

“I hope you're right.”

“I know I'm right.” She cupped Allison's cheeks in her palms and kissed her on the forehead. “And now I'm going to take my grandson to the diner for grilled cheese and French fries, if you don't mind.”

“I thought I was going with you.”

“I think it's better if you stay here.”

“Excellent. Even my own mother is embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I just think you might have a visitor—that's all.” She motioned to Logan to let him know it was time to go. “It wouldn't kill you to put a little makeup on.”

“Mom.”
Allison arched an eyebrow. “What have you done?”

“Nothing you won't thank me for.” She wrapped her arm around Logan's back. “You ready?”

“Yup!” He nodded eagerly.

“Bye, sweetie. Have fun with Grandma.”

“I will.”

“Bye, Mom.”

“Good-bye, darling.” Allison's mother waved over her shoulder. “Remember a little blush and mascara! And running a brush through your hair couldn't hurt!”

•   •   •

Reliably,
twenty minutes later there was a knock at her door. As Allison went to answer it, she couldn't quell the jittery sensation that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

“Hey, you.” A smiling Dempsey appeared on her front porch looking more handsome than ever. He paused for a moment before taking her into his arms and squeezing her against his warm body. Unwittingly, she started to cry.

“I'm so sorry,” she said.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He stroked the top of her head. “I know the truth. All of it.”

“Who told you?” she asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“A little birdie.”

“Oh yeah?” She laughed through her tears and took his
hand in hers to lead him inside. “The little birdie struck again, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“I'm so sorry, Dempsey,” she repeated as they sat next to each other on the couch in her family room.

“It's not your fault. None of it's your fault. I'm the one who should be apologizing.”

“For what?”

“For doubting you for even a minute. I know you better than that. You'd never get involved with your friend's husband, or any married man, for that matter.”

“And I'd never betray you. What we have is so important to me.”

“Me too.” He leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Me too.” The phone rang, infringing on their moment.

“I don't have to get that.” She gazed into his gentle blue eyes.

“Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere.” Allison got up reluctantly and walked into the kitchen. When she returned a few minutes later, there was a confused expression blanketing her face.

“Who was it?”

“Jack's parents. Nancy and Bill.”

“Oh?”

“They said they want to come visit for Christmas. That it's been way too long. And that they're finally ready to be the grandparents that Logan deserves.”

“Wow.” Dempsey pulled her onto his lap and swathed his strong arms around her waist. “That's great, isn't it?”

“I think so.” She leaned back and rested her head on his chest. “I mean, yes, definitely. I'm just surprised is all.”

“You know what this means, right?” He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck.

“What?”

“Only good things to come. Very good things.”

 

I have to admit tonight was really nice. It felt like being part of a family, even though it wasn't entirely my family. Does that make sense? I think most people take it for granted, you know? Husband, wife, kids—all gathered around the table for dinner. As I said, it felt nice.

But now I miss you. I miss you so much. These last few months have been a roller-coaster ride and, through it all, being able to express my feelings and thoughts to you has been the greatest gift. Still, I want you here with me all the time. I know that's not possible given the circumstances, but it's true. And I'd never lie to you.

I want to touch you again. To hold your face in my hands and kiss you. To make love to you. I want you sleeping next to me every night. I need that.

I love you and I always will.

Good night, my precious. Until we meet again . . .

xoxo, A

Five Months
Later

“Y
ou're going to have to give him back eventually.” Elizabeth smiled contentedly, marveling at how natural Charlotte looked cradling her sweet little nephew in her arms.

“Says who?” Charlotte kissed the newborn on his teeny-tiny button nose and brushed his hair off his forehead. “I can't believe this wild mane he was born with. You were completely bald until you were two.”

“I was not!” Elizabeth protested.

“You were so. I have the photos to prove it. And you had all these dimples too, so you kind of resembled a golf ball.” Charlotte sat down next to Elizabeth on the couch in her cluttered apartment. “I'm sending Janna here on Monday to clean this place up.” She looked around at all the boxes—some partially unpacked, some not. “You've got a ton of stuff.”

“I know.” Elizabeth sighed. “Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for all of it, but it feels a little overwhelming right
about now. I'm feeding him every few hours. And when I'm not, I'm just so exhausted.”

“Can Nick help?”

“He has been. It's tough, though. He's at work all day, sometimes until nine at night. And then he comes home and wants to see the baby. After that he tries to make headway in the opening-presents department, but it's a lot. He's even written thank-you notes.”

“Impressive.”

“I feel like I haven't slept in a week. And do you see this?” Elizabeth pointed at her ratty, smelly, oversized white T-shirt with milk stains at the nipples and an unidentifiable orange smear down the center. Orange juice? “Let's just say I haven't showered in over forty-eight hours.”

“Well, that's about to end.”

“Yeah, right. I don't think this one will be sleeping through the night anytime soon.”

“No, but you will be.” Charlotte nodded definitively and then went back to cooing. “Isn't that right, you delicious doll? Your mommy needs some rest too.”

“And how do you suppose that's going to happen?” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Please don't tell me you're planning to move in.”

“Very funny.” Charlotte made a face at her sister. “Remember when I told you my gift was slightly delayed?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she arrives tomorrow.”

“She?”

“Beatrice.”

“
Your
Beatrice?”

“
My
Beatrice.”

Beatrice had been Charlotte's saint of a baby nurse when she'd had Gia, and although she'd since gone into retirement, Charlotte had called her and begged her to come help Elizabeth. She'd offered to pay her double her already exorbitant salary and Beatrice had readily agreed, with the caveat that she couldn't start until late August, after she'd returned from her daughter's wedding in Jamaica. Since the baby hadn't been due until September first, Charlotte had expected Beatrice to be waiting at Elizabeth and Nick's apartment—as a surprise—when they'd come home from the hospital, but, alas, the best-laid plans . . .

“That's amazing! But you've done so much already.” Charlotte had accompanied Elizabeth to every one of her prenatal checkups that Nick couldn't be at. She'd also helped her prepare the nursery, rolling up her sleeves and wielding various tools that—to both her surprise and Elizabeth's—she was fairly adept with.

“Don't be ridiculous. That's what sisters are for.” Charlotte sniffed. “Now can you please leave me with my nephew and go hose off? I can smell you from here.”

“You don't have to ask me twice.” Elizabeth jumped up, kissed her baby on the cheek, and shoved her armpit in Charlotte's face. “Take a whiff of that!”

“You are disgusting! Get away!” Charlotte shrieked as Elizabeth giggled and skipped toward the bathroom. As soon as Charlotte heard the water running, she lay back on the couch and closed her eyes. It was remarkable to think how far they'd come in the past five months.

Within forty-eight hours of the Wincourt school gala and
Charlotte's falling out with Elizabeth, once the massive misunderstanding had been revealed, Charlotte had been left shocked, relieved, and furious all at once. More than that, she'd been mortified. She'd caused a scene in front of hundreds of people. She'd humiliated herself and those she loved. She'd jeopardized her marriage, her friendship with Allison, and her relationship with her sister. And for what?

She'd e-mailed Charlie immediately to explain. He hadn't been answering her calls in the wake of their hideous fight, and she'd hoped—prayed—that this would be the first step toward bringing him around. And then she'd phoned Allison. Their conversation had been awkward at best. In fact, Charlotte had been taken aback by how kind Allison had been, given the circumstances. She'd said she needed time. That now she had a better understanding of where Charlotte had been coming from, but that this enlightening information still didn't erase what had happened. Charlotte had said she understood. That if Allison never wanted to speak to her again, she couldn't blame her. They'd hung up after only a few minutes, just as her cell phone had trilled with a return message from Charlie, letting her know that he would be home the next day. He needed a little more time to clear his head, he'd said, but they would talk then.

And talk they had. For four hours. Charlie had told her about his shame over stealing the job from Jack all those years ago and the inherent guilt that had been weighing on him for over a decade. He'd said that he wanted to make things work between them. That even though he'd been livid after Charlotte's outburst at the gala, it might very well have been the wake-up call they desperately needed. He'd
confessed that he felt lost, that he hated the way he treated her. That he wanted their marriage to be solid and full of love and that he was willing to work on himself and with Charlotte to put the pieces of their life back together. Then he'd handed her an envelope with three tickets to Hawaii and said, “We leave next week. No work calls. No stress. Just you, me, Gia, and the beach.” He'd told Charlotte that he'd even scheduled sailing lessons for him and Gia, professing, “I want to be the father she deserves and the husband you deserve. It's about time.”

After that, they'd made the most passionate love they had in years, in broad daylight, with their bedroom door wide open. So what if no one had been home? It had still felt deliciously rebellious.

“I'm a new woman!” Elizabeth materialized twenty minutes later, interrupting Charlotte's reverie. She looked astonishingly slender for someone who'd recently given birth, affording new meaning to the phrase
the pounds just fell off
. There'd been a time when this would have irritated Charlotte to no end, but her rapport with her sister was different now.

“You look it.” Charlotte smiled. She'd never seen Elizabeth so happy. “I forgot to tell you Mom called earlier. She'll be here on Saturday.”

“Great!” Elizabeth took the baby from Charlotte, nuzzling her face against his. “I can't believe Dad will never get to meet him.”

“I know.” Charlotte shook her head, willing herself not to cry. “He would have adored him.”

Five months earlier, they'd received a call from their
mother in the early morning hours saying that their father had died in his sleep.
His heart couldn't take it anymore,
was what the doctor had said.
Take what?
Charlotte had asked. But she'd never gotten an answer. And what did it matter anyway? He was gone. The one and only good thing that had come of his passing was that it had reunited her with Elizabeth. They'd agreed to put aside their differences on the heels of a heartfelt apology from Charlotte. She'd begged for Elizabeth's forgiveness and said that, above all, she hoped that they could move forward together as sisters who supported each other and wanted the best for each other. After all, with one parent gone and another whose health was questionable, they were each other's only real familial support system.

“It's impossible not to.” Elizabeth lifted up her clean shirt and let the baby latch onto her breast.

“Can't argue there. Though it would be nice if he had a name. Have you decided on one yet?”

“We have.”

“And?”

“Leo. Leo Graham.”

“Oh my God.” Charlotte's eyes watered. “After Dad. Mom will love that. I love that. And I love him.”

“Good thing. Because he's expecting his auntie Charlotte to shower him with lots of expensive loot.”

“I can do better than that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“What would Leo think about a playmate?”

“I'm sure he'll be thrilled to play with you too, Char.”

“Oh no, not me. I was thinking more along the lines of a first cousin.”

“What?” Elizabeth zeroed in on Charlotte's belly. “I thought you'd put on a couple of pounds!”

“Gee, thanks.” Charlotte laughed. “But I'm not pregnant.”

“You guys are trying? That's so exciting!”

“Not in the way you're thinking.”

“Okay . . .” Elizabeth looked confused.

“Charlie and I are pursuing adoption.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” Charlotte smiled. “There are so many kids out there that need loving homes. And Charlie and I can give them everything they need and more.”

“Them?”

“One to start! Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” She wrinkled her forehead. “You don't think it's crazy, do you? Starting over.”

“No, Char. I don't think it's crazy at all. I think it's perfect.”