Marrying the Wrong Man (17 page)

“Don’t. That won’t change anything for me—people are always going to think I’m the drunk—but it might make things worse for you.” He balanced Charlotte’s bum on the porch railing, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her head. She giggled.

Morgan’s frustration built. “Stop protecting me. It’s ruining you.”

He swung Charlotte around a few times, and then finally put her down. “I’d rather be ruined than see you treated the way Pamela Boardman treated you.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered.

Charlie sat on the front steps. “Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s true.”

Morgan snatched a rock from Charlotte’s hand before it made it into her mouth and replaced it with a plastic shovel. “Play with this, sweetie.”

The screen door rattled, and Aunt Phyllis appeared. “I have peanut butter and jelly for Miss Charlotte. And fishy crackers.”

Charlotte dropped her shovel and squealed her way into the house.

“Afternoon, Phyllis,” Charlie said.

“Charlie.” Aunt Phyllis smiled, and when he turned around, she gave Morgan a pointed look, the kind that said, “work this out.”

After all, here was a man who would ruin himself for her.

“I don’t know what to do. I want to make this better for you.” Morgan sat beside him on the steps. “Most of the time I think the only way anything’s going to get better is if I go. And I can’t even seem to manage that.”

He looked at her quizzically.

Morgan took a breath. “I had a phone interview for a job in Denver and I haven’t heard back.”

The sole of his boot slapped hard against the step. “Of course you did.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees, and then looked back at her. “You don’t always have to run to make things better.”

“I wish I could believe that were true. But, Charlie, the way I see it is you were doing great before I got here, and then I came and all hell broke loose. If I go, you’ll be able to get the bistro back on track, Alice will stop bugging you about whether or not I’ve driven you to drink”—she blew out a breath; this part was harder—“and you can ask out someone nice … like Carrie.”

“Carrie? Who told you about Carrie?”

“Corbin.”

Charlie shook his head. “If I had enough help, I’d fire him.” But he chuckled.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t ask Carrie out, either. She’s not my type.”

The tattoo above his heart had made it pretty clear who was. But she wasn’t going to stick around and screw up his life until it was as bad as hers was. He could move on if she left. He’d have to. “My point is, things will eventually go back to some semblance of normalcy when I’m gone.”

“
Pfft
.” He reached out, picked up a rock and tossed it in front of them. “Before you came, I was just a moody chef. Now, I’m a proud father. Your leaving won’t change that.”

She didn’t want to change that. “Yep.” She smiled. “You’ll always be Charlotte’s daddy.”

“But from a distance?” The hard edge in his voice challenged her.

Morgan picked at the hem of her sweater. “We’ll work it out, Charlie. For Charlotte. We’ll find a way to stay close.”

He looked so sad, but he didn’t argue, and he didn’t beg her to stay. Not that she wanted him to. She’d already turned him down too many times to warrant another shot.

Sliding closer to him, she rested her head on his upper back. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He sighed and sat up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m not. All the bullshit in the world is worth one smile from that little girl.”

It felt like heaven to have someone who thought the same as she did.

It felt like hell to know she’d have to say goodbye to him again.

• • •

A few minutes after midnight, there was a knock on the glass of Aunt Phyllis’s patio door.

“What the … ?” Aunt Phyllis released the footrest on her recliner and grabbed a baseball bat from underneath the couch, where Morgan was sitting. So, there was no gun, but there was a bat.

Morgan jumped up, her heart throbbing in her throat. “Who is it?”

“Nothing but trouble at this hour.” Aunt Phyllis crept into the kitchen. “Grab a knife from the drawer.”

Morgan was alarmed too, but she rolled her eyes a little. “I don’t think trouble would knock.”

“You’ve got a baby sleeping in this house. Grab a knife, girl.”

Shit.
Maybe Aunt Phyllis had enemies. “I’d rather call the cops.”

“They won’t get here fast enough.”

She grabbed a knife, but set it on the counter.

“Stay behind me.” Aunt Phyllis approached the door and pulled back the very edge of the curtain. “Oh for crying out loud! It’s your mother.”

Morgan gaped. Her mother was here? Somehow that was a scarier prospect than an actual burglar. Harboring a fugitive was no joke.

“Are you going to let her in?” Morgan stepped back into the shadows of the kitchen, not sure how she wanted Aunt Phyllis to answer.

“I suppose I have to.” Aunt Phyllis opened the door, but she blocked her sister’s path. “What do
you
want?”

“Philly, please. I know I’ve been … Oh, everything is so wrong. I … Please, let me in. I need to see my daughter.”

The fear vanished, and Morgan stepped into the light. “Mom?”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “You’re hurt. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. It was a minor car accident.” There was far more discomfort associated with seeing her mother again.

“Heinrich told me where you were. I’m sorry. This is such a horrible mess, and I never meant for you to get caught up in it. I just … I don’t know what I was thinking.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a white envelope. “Take this. It’s yours.”

“What is it?”

“It’s money from your savings account.” She brushed a palm over Morgan’s cheek. “I haven’t done right by you for many years, so take it, please. I have to go.”

Morgan’s lungs squeezed. So many questions needed answers if she was ever going to get to the bottom of what happened with her family.

She looked at the thick envelope. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“How can I not worry about it? My family is being arrested. My mother is sneaking around back doors in the middle of the night. This impacts me, too.
Where
are you going?”

“Away. And if you’re smart, you’ll do the same thing. Start over far away from here. You don’t deserve to pay the price for what we’ve done.”

Morgan closed her eyes, and told herself to breathe. “I can’t believe you were an active participant. I can’t believe I didn’t know my parents were crooks. We were so good at pretending everything was perfect when it clearly wasn’t. Why? For how long were involved?”

“Long enough to have known better.”

“Then why didn’t you say something or stop him?”

“Like you said, we were good at pretending. We had a life and an image to uphold. Those things don’t come easy. At least they didn’t to us.”

The Parrishes were a joke. Maybe she should change Charlotte’s last name to Cramer.

“Don’t run, Mom. Talk to the investigators. Tell them what you know. Maybe they can cut you a deal. Running won’t solve anything.”

Morgan almost snorted at the words coming out of her mouth. Hadn’t Charlie said practically the same thing to her?

“You sound like Heinrich.”

“Listen to him, Mom. Listen to me. Turn yourself in.”

Her mother frowned as she turned to Aunt Phyllis. “I’m sorry, Philly. So, so sorry. You were always the better woman. Thank you for helping my baby … and her baby.” Her voice broke. “Take good care of them.”

Aunt Phyllis gave a crisp nod.

After her mother left, Morgan sank to the floor. That was as close to loving as she’d ever seen her mother be. How frustrating to think when they finally had an emotionally honest break in their relationship, they weren’t free to build on it. Still, her mother had come back—with the money. The most selfish woman Morgan knew had thought of someone other than herself.

As she let that sink in, she thumbed through the stack of bills. Her pulse quickened. She’d never seen so much money in one place. Twenty-five thousand dollars—if it was all here. More than enough for first and last month’s rent in a place where no one knew her. She could start over, and Charlie could start over, too.

Finally something was working out in her favor.

One more coat of blue paint, and the ceiling in Charlotte’s bedroom would be ready for some clouds. Charlie stood back and admired his work with a smile on his face. It was the first crack in his shitty mood since before Morgan’s accident.

Maybe it was a sign he was going to be okay. He hoped so, because the longer the funk lasted, the more he thought about taking a drink.

With his hand strangling the extension pole, he did some deep breathing. It didn’t kill the thought of whiskey, but it dulled the ache. As long as he only
thought
about drinking, he’d be okay.

Charlie rested the pole on the edge of the paint pan and headed to the kitchen for some coffee.

“Hey.”

Even with the windows open, he hadn’t heard a car pull into the driveway or his brother-in-law’s footsteps on the front porch. But there stood Justin, the mayor of Harmony Falls, the man who had been Charlie’s best friend until the drinking and bad behavior became too big a liability for a future politician.

“Hey. The door’s open.” Charlie continued onto the kitchen.

“How’s it going?”

He refused to look at him and dug in the pantry for coffee beans instead. “Well, that depends on why you’re here. Either you’re here because my sister sent you, or you’re here because of what’s being said in the mayor’s office. Either way, how do you think I am?”

“Listen, all I really care about is that you’re sober.”

He latched onto the coffee bag and faced Justin. “If I tell you I’m sober, will you believe me?” The doubt was in Alice’s eyes every time they were in the same room, and he was tired of it. He didn’t need to see it in Justin’s eyes, too. “For the rest of my life, anytime I screw up, people are going to automatically think it’s because of booze. That sucks! But I’m sober, Justin. It’s up to you whether or not you believe me.”

The coffee grinder killed the conversation, but the racket sounded good to Charlie.

When it finally quieted, Justin said, “I believe you.”

He relaxed a bit. Maybe it was stupid to trust the word of a career politician, but he wanted to. “Coffee?”

“Sounds good.”

Justin sat at the breakfast bar, while Charlie moved around the kitchen, gathering cups, spoons, and cream.

“I heard Morgan is pretty banged up from the accident.”

Talking about booze with Justin wasn’t bad enough; they had to talk about Morgan, too. “It’s minor stuff. She’s good.”

“She’s lucky.”

You’re telling me.
Charlie couldn’t stop picturing the wreckage.

“She’s lucky you were there,” Justin added.

“Is that your tactful way of asking why I was there? Is that something
you
want to know, or something my sister has sent you to find out?”

Justin sighed. “You can drop the attitude, Charlie. There’s no conspiracy here. I came because I thought you might need someone to talk to, like a … friend or a brother. I’m both, you know?”

Charlie nodded. He knew Justin longer and better than he knew anyone else—besides Alice. And Justin was a hell of a lot calmer than his drama queen sister. “I appreciate that.”

“Morgan’s never going to be the easiest topic of conversation between us. I pursued her when I knew you still had feelings for her, and you got me back good the night of her bachelorette party.” He winced. “But some way, somehow, we have to find a way to get past all that. I love your sister, and I assume you love your little girl. What I’m not clear on are your feelings for Morgan.”

Charlie watched the tar-like coffee puddle in the glass pot.

“What do you want to happen with her?”

Charlie’s nose twitched. He didn’t want to talk about this even though he’d been thinking a lot about it. He wanted to be with her. Hell, he’d even been fantasizing about giving up his dream about having a successful restaurant in Harmony Falls so he could follow her again.

“If you tell me, then maybe it will help us figure the rest out. Maybe I can help you reach your goals and find your happiness. I’m really good with planning. Ask your sister.”

Alice would kill them both if she knew Charlie wanted to be with Morgan and Justin could possibly have anything to do with making that happen. “This is a waste of time. What I want is never going to happen.” Because what he really wanted was his restaurant and Morgan, too.

“Come on, Charlie. Anything is possible.”

Said Harmony Falls’s golden boy. “Not when the odds have been stacked against you since birth, Mr. Mayor.”

“I don’t know. From where I’m sitting, I think you’ve accomplished some pretty big things against those odds. You got sober. You convinced my family to invest in a bistro instead of a bakery. And you have Charlotte. If you ask me, there’s not much more a man could want … ” Justin shot him a shrewd stare. “Unless you want the mother of your child, too.”

That’s exactly what he wanted. He roughed his hands over his face and nodded. “I’d take that.”

“Then you need to tell her you love her, and you want to be with her. This turmoil will die down. God knows it died down for me and Alice. We managed. You and Morgan will manage, too.”

The tiniest jolt of hope shocked Charlie’s system. Could it really happen like that? Would the majority of people ever stop hating her enough for her to feel comfortable here with him?
A simple life with a simple man.

Charlie turned his back on Justin and reached for the full pot. “It’s a nice thought, but it’s not going to work. She wants and deserves to live someplace where people aren’t constantly judging her based on her mistakes and her last name. Charlotte deserves a better life than that, too.”

“There’s another option. You could go with them.”

He shrugged. “I’ve thought of that, but I’d be walking away from the restaurant.”