Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (35 page)

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and stared at the ground for what felt like an eternity. He finally raised his head and looked at her with angry green eyes.
 

“No,” he said simply, and walked to his truck.
 

After she watched him drive away, her trembling legs gave out from beneath her and she crumpled to the ground. The rough cement cut into her palms as she sat there sobbing, heaving for the air he’d pushed out of her.
 

She lost him.
 

She lost them both.

Chapter Sixteen

Feeling his mother’s eyes on every move he made, Charlie packed Jackson’s bag. He didn’t want to talk about it. All he wanted to do was get everyone up to speed so that he could make sure that no one said Lucy’s name or “Bee” in Jackson’s presence. He wanted her to simply vanish from his son’s mind.
 

It had been almost a week since he’d seen her—since he left her standing in the parking lot of the cemetery. His bedroom had gone back to its normal state of dark and empty, and it haunted him each time he went in there. He’d thrown everything of Lucy’s into a bag and taken it to her apartment when he knew she would be at work. If he could have, he would’ve packed up the beautiful smell of her and sent it away with her belongings. That still lingered in his room, though, and there was nothing he could do about it.
 

His brothers had all handled it exactly the way he’d hoped. A simple, “That sucks” was all he wanted to hear, which is exactly what they gave him. His mother and sister, on the other hand, wouldn’t let him off so easily.
 

“So, okay, let me get this straight,” Linda began. “She was the nurse’s aide who you handed Jack to when Meredith was showing signs of trouble?”
 

Charlie sighed. “That’s what I said, right?”

Linda sipped her coffee and looked out the window. “And she knew it was you the whole time and kept that from you?”

“Yep,” Charlie said, annoyed. This wasn’t a difficult story to understand. It was pretty cut and dried, actually: he let her in; she deceived him. The end.
 

Dylan had been sitting silent at the kitchen table, listening to Charlie’s quick version of events. Given her newfound desire to meddle, he was surprised that she hadn’t spoken up yet.
 

“Hmm,” was all Linda said, and continued to stare out the window. “I can’t say that I blame her. I wouldn’t want to share that memory.”

Frustrated, Charlie threw a sippy cup into the diaper bag and dragged the zipper closed. “Now that everyone’s up to speed on my love life, drop it. I just want to go on like I never met her and get her out of Jack’s mind.”

When neither his mother nor his sister responded, he narrowed his eyes. “Do you think you two can manage that?”

“I don’t think you’re giving us much of a choice,” Dylan finally said.
 

“No, I’m really not,” he responded. “Let’s just move on.”

“Move on,” Linda said, and took another sip of her coffee. “That’s an interesting phrase.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. He set the diaper bag down on the kitchen table and folded his arms across his chest. There would be more, so he just waited.
 

“What’s next beyond this, my darling son? Are you going to put that ring back on your finger? Is that your idea of moving on?”
 

Charlie looked down at his mother’s hand. It had been eleven years since his father had died, and there was her wedding ring, right where his father had left it.
 

“That’s different,” she said, and covered her left hand.
 

“How?” he asked, incredulously. “How in the world could that possibly be different?”

“It’s not different, Mom,” Dylan intervened. “It’s exactly the same.”

“This isn’t about me!” Linda snapped. “I’m a fifty-eight year old woman. I met the love of my life, married him, had babies with him, and I lost him.”

“Hello?” Charlie said, and pointed to himself.
 

“You’re twenty-seven years old, Charlie! You have a whole life ahead of you. I was almost twice your age when I lost your father.”

“Mom,” Dylan groaned, and put her face in her hands. “Are you serious? You have a lifetime left to go.”

Charlie took a seat next to his mother and looked at the faded wood of the kitchen table, remembering a time when his entire family sat around it to eat their meals together. Today, their seven chairs and the leaf in the center were still there, as if they still ate together every day. His mother’s home was like a time capsule; nothing much had changed from when his father was there, eleven years before.
 

“What’s the story with Mike?” Charlie asked, and met his mother’s eyes. “What happened there?”

Linda’s eyes widened and she took in a sharp breath. “What?”

“Mom,” Dylan said, “don’t do that. We’re not little kids anymore. We know there’s something there.”

“There’s nothing there!” she said with tears in her eyes.
 

Charlie leaned back and gave her a hard look. “I don’t believe you.”

Linda stood up and grabbed her mug. “Well, it’s certainly not anything I’m going to talk to my children about. I’m going to see if Jack is up from his nap.”

Charlie and Dylan watched their mother rinse out her mug and put it in the dishwasher. Without another word, she walked out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs.
 

“She’s still doing the cupcakes for the benefit,” Dylan said when he turned his attention back to her. “I also asked her to do them for my wedding. I ordered and paid for everything already and I’m not asking her for a refund.”

Charlie bit his lower lip as he took in her words. “Do whatever you have to do, Dylan. I really don’t care.”

Clearly annoyed, Dylan stood up. “And I think that’s just about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, and walked away.

After she was out of his sight, Charlie heaved a heavy sigh and slumped down in his chair. He was lonely and he didn’t want to live that way, but he also didn’t want to be disappointed again. He’d stood right in front of Lucy and explained his wedding ring to her like an idiot. Of course she hadn’t questioned it; she knew the whole time. That, above all, made him feel so stupid.
 

He’d trusted her and she’d lied.

He’d opened up to her and she’d closed him out.
 

This was the result of loving someone. No matter what, you end up losing. Why bother at all?

He wondered if he would’ve allowed it to get as far as it did if he’d recognized her from the beginning. Or, more importantly, if she’d told him the truth. Would he have wanted anything to do with her? More than likely, no.
 

She’d watched him at his lowest point. That was about as private as someone could get. He didn’t want to be known as the grieving widower. He didn’t want anyone to remember the way he’d screamed when he’d witnessed the doctors and staff give up and call his wife’s time of death.
 

“Where is everyone?” he heard behind him and jumped.
 

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he told Ben.
 

Ben put his bag down on the floor. He smirked a little and cocked his head. “You daydreaming?”

“Something like that,” Charlie grumbled, and stood.
 

“What’s going on?” Ben asked, and walked over to get a cup of coffee. “Where’s my beautiful bride?”

“Upstairs with my mom,” Charlie answered.
 

Ben watched Charlie inquisitively while he took a slow sip. “What the hell did I walk in on? You look like you’re pissed off, but from what Jonah tells me, you and Cupcake keep him up all night. No one who gets laid as much as you do should be in a bad mood.”

“Would you all quit it with the cupcake shit? Her name is Lucy.” Charlie frowned and ran a hand over his face, remembering that it was no longer his job to defend her.
 

Shocked, Ben snapped his head back. “Sorry, man. It sounds like you and
Lucy
have a lot of sex. Better?” He smirked and drank his coffee.
 

“Not anymore. And I’m done telling the story. Ask Dylan. Wait.” He stopped and shook his head. “Don’t ask Dylan. Ask Jonah. He won’t ask you to talk to me like she will.”

“Got it,” Ben said, never caring to know more. “Where’s Dylan? Is she in a better mood than you?”

“Probably not,” Charlie said, and started to put on his shoes. “My mom’s a little pissed, too.”

“Good,” Ben said with a load of sarcasm.
 

Linda came around the corner with a sleepy Jackson in her arms. “His diaper is changed and he’s ready to go,” she said, handing him off to Charlie.
 

“Thanks,” Charlie mumbled.
 

Jackson put his head on Charlie’s shoulder and sighed. “Da-yee,” he whispered.

He hadn’t been sleeping much. The night before he’d woken up in a fit, screaming for Lucy. Charlie couldn’t get him to calm down until he’d giving him the chef hat Lucy had given him. He’d clutched it in his tiny hands while Charlie rocked him back to sleep. He’d cried so hard that his little back continued to quiver even after he’d fallen asleep.

It tore Charlie’s heart out.
 

Linda hugged Ben. “Did you have a nice flight?” she asked, putting her hands on his cheeks and leaning back to look at him.
 

Ben nodded and gave her a warm smile. “Nobody was sleeping on top of me this time.”

“You didn’t have to come into town early to help with the benefit,” she said.
 

Ben shrugged and grinned. “I did. My future wife needs me.”

“And we all love you for that,” Linda said with a sigh. “She’s upstairs. Apparently, none of us are speaking.”

Ben pursed his lips. “It looks like I’m the favorite today.” He walked out of the kitchen. “Thanks, Charlie,” he joked, and headed up the stairs to Dylan.

Charlie turned to his mother, and said, “I have that dinner with Mike, Jonah, and the senior leaders from Marshall and Smith tomorrow night. Can you still watch him for me?”

Linda rolled her eyes. She put one hand on her hip and the other on the counter. “I disagree with you once and all of the sudden I’m abandoning all of my grandmotherly duties? Really, Charlie? Is that what you think of me?”

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his tired eyes. “No.”

“Good. I’ll see you at five,” she assured.
   

“Thanks,” Charlie said, and left without saying another word.
 

* * *

The next evening, Lucy walked into her apartment and set her keys down on the ledge by the door. It had been a long day at work, with more orders for cupcakes. It was getting to the point where she had to ask Lydia to hire another person to help them keep up. Her life would be a lot easier if she could stop taking orders in the front and just concentrate on baking in the back.
 

To add to the problem, the front was where she could see the door. And every time it opened, she found herself whipping her head up to look at it, just hoping it was Charlie walking through.
 

It never was, of course.
 

She was tired from the sleepless nights and heartbroken over losing the only man she’d ever truly loved. And she only had herself to blame.
 

Thankfully, work kept her busy.
 

She stepped into her bedroom and found Grace on the floor, going through a black bag. She was pulling clothing out of it, folding the garments, and putting them in piles. Lucy looked closer and realized they were her own things.
 

“Where did those come from?” she asked Grace.
 

It was the first time she’d uttered a single word to her in a week.
 

Grace turned to face Lucy and gave her a compassionate stare. “Charlie brought this over earlier today. He said it’s everything you left at his house.”

That hurt in a way that actually stung her chest. Lately, she’d come to completely understand where the phrase “broken heart” came from. It wasn’t just something people said; the ones who made it up are the ones who literally felt that painful ache in their chest.

“So,” Lucy said, raising her chin, “what are you doing with it?”

Grace’s shoulders slumped. “I’m unpacking it all and putting it away so you won’t have to.”

Lucy sat on the edge of her bed. She looked at her belongings spread out on the floor: the nighty she bought because it was pink and Charlie loved her in pink, jeans, shorts, shirts, camis, bras, underwear, perfume, and a toothbrush … everything that would remind him of her. He had sent it all.
 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Lucy said with a sigh.
 

Grace shrugged and stood up. She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Lucy.