“That was a close one,” Charlie said, perched above her, nose–to nose.
“It sure was. Thank you for saving me.”
“You know I would never hurt you. I would lay down my life for you. I love you that much.” It was true, and he had no problems letting it be known. He knew the chances of hearing her say it back were slim, but he’d accepted it. In time it would come, is what he kept telling himself.
“Charlie,” Lindsay said.
“Don’t,” Charlie shot back. “Stop telling me not to say that. I’m not okay holding in my feelings for you any longer. You don’t have to say it back but—”
“I wasn’t going to stop you,” Lindsay said softly. “I was going to say I love you too, Charlie.”
Charlie released her and sat beside her on the stair. Had he heard her right? “Say it again.”
“I love you, Charlie. I was unsure of what I was feeling for the longest time. What we have is something I thought only existed in fairy tales, but you made a believer out of me.”
Charlie’s eyes stung, and he looked away. Men don’t cry, he told himself. A couple of deep breaths later he said, “You don’t know what it means to hear you say that.”
“I’m sorry I made you wait to hear it,” Lindsay said. “Thank you for being patient with me.” She put her hand on his chin and gently turned his face toward her. “You’re crying.”
“No, my sinuses are acting up, that’s all.”
“Sinuses?” Lindsay asked, less than convinced.
Charlie shook his head.
“Whatever you say.” Lindsay wrapped her arms around his neck. “Take me to bed already.”
Charlie gathered her in his arms. “My pleasure,” he said, and finished the trip up the stairs.
Chapter Fifteen
Perfect bliss. That was the only way to describe the last few days with Charlie. Every day they made love; each time better than the one before.
Lindsay had four days off between the last day at her old job and the first day of her new job. She took great pleasure in being Charlie’s housewife during that time, and was more convinced than ever that she’d found her once–in–a–lifetime love. There was nothing, it seemed, that could ever come between them.
By the time Thursday rolled around, Lindsay had to get back to her apartment. She kissed Charlie goodbye that morning and told him she wouldn’t be there when he returned from work that night, hard as it was to pry herself away.
She needed to get ready for her first day of work the following day. Of course, she already knew what she would wear: scrubs. The challenge though, was having everything clean and organized, so she could have a stress–free morning.
* * *
Lindsay opened the door to her bare apartment. No noise, no mess … no Ireland. Eerily quiet was a more accurate description of the stillness.
This was going to take some getting used to. For so long, Lindsay had taken Ireland for granted. She would miss her advice. Advice that she’d always expected to be outrageous, but usually ended up making a lot of sense. She would miss her infectious zeal for life and how she could instantly put Lindsay in a better mood just by being in the same room.
Lindsay sat in the recliner and lifted the leg extension. Hands folded over her stomach, she stared at the ceiling thinking about all the changes in her life. The job she’d been wishing for had come. Her best friend had moved away. And the love of her life had appeared when she wasn’t looking for him at all.
It was a lot to absorb, but she felt extremely blessed, and ready to start the next chapter of her life. The ticking of the Betty–Boop wall clock sang her to sleep.
Friday morning Lindsay woke up at 5:30 a.m., thirty minutes earlier than her alarm time. Sheer thrill and excitement had caused her to toss and turn all night.
In the kitchen, she had a pep in her step as she switched on the under–the–cabinet radio. She put on a pot of coffee and swayed her hips to the beat of the music, as she waited for the brew.
For a second, it crossed her mind to turn the radio down, as to not disturb Ireland’s sleep. Then she remembered Ireland was gone. She wouldn’t let that bring her down, though.
She removed a wallet–sized picture of herself and Ireland from her purse, and stuck it to the refrigerator with a palm–tree magnet. She studied the picture as the coffee pot trickled to a halt. In the photo, they sat side–by–side at the apartment complex pool, with their arms draped around each other.
That was a great day.
She closed her eyes and made a wish that today would be just as happy.
“Good morning, Charleston,” the deejay said when the song was over. “I hope you put your right foot down first when you got out of the bed this morning. It’s Friday the 13th.”
Lindsay ignored the comment. Superstition wasn’t about to get her down now. She pushed the power button on the radio and hit the shower.
* * *
Driving to work, Lindsay thought how unlucky it seemed to start a new job on Friday the 13th. She told herself to think positive, and turned on the car radio, hoping some music would calm her. A few miles from the medical center, traffic became congested. Bumper to bumper, she rolled at a snail’s pace.
“What the—”
She flipped through channels, listening for traffic updates. She caught the end of a report about a fire causing onlooker delays.
Great! Late on my first day of work.
Perhaps there
was
something to superstition. This was not a good day, however, for her to learn that lesson.
Thirty minutes later, the car had only moved half a mile. Thick, black smoke clouded the sky ahead. Leaving the apartment an hour ahead of time had seemed sufficient, but it soon became clear she wouldn’t make it to work by eight.
Sitting at a standstill, she took her cell phone out of her purse and looked up the number to North Charleston Medical Center on her contacts. She hit send and after a few rings, it went to voice mail. She left a message on the general mailbox, and hoped this setback wouldn’t tarnish her image.
Five minutes left until her start time, a cold sweat puddled on Lindsay’s head. Then, a lane opened to traffic. Though only moving five miles per hour, at least she was making progress.
When the cell phone buzzed inside the cup holder, she was certain it was her boss calling back. She snatched it up and looked at the caller ID. Charlie.
“I’m freaking out right now,” Lindsay said when she answered.
“Well, hello to you too, doll. What’s the problem?”
“I’m late for work. That’s what.”
“I was surprised when you answered. I was expecting to leave a message wishing you luck. Why are you running late?”
“One word: traffic. I’ve been in it for an hour. Why does this have to happen to me today?”
“I heard about a building on fire. Do you think that has anything to do with it?”
“Definitely. I can see the smoke and smell the burning.”
Lindsay’s car went around a slight curve and she could see exactly what was on fire. “Oh God … no.”
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“Charlie, this is bad.” Her hand shaking, Lindsay struggled to hold on to the phone. “The burning building is North Charleston Emergency Care. I have to go.”
“No, don’t hang up. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have to park the car and find someone from the medical office. They need to know that I attempted to come to work. I can’t be absent on my first day.”
“You’re not thinking rationally,” Charlie said. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near that building. Find a safe place to turn the car around, and get as far away as you can.”
“But I’ll be fired. I can’t just leave.”
“Their brand new office is on fire. I doubt anyone will notice.”
“So, what … now you’re saying I’m not important?”
“Of course not!” Charlie felt his own pulse starting to race. “I’m not going to let this turn into a fight. I have to go. My flight is scheduled to leave in an hour.”
“Okay.”
“Go home. Try to relax and put this into perspective,” Charlie said. “I’m sure you’ll still have your job once they form a plan. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”
By now, Lindsay was perceptive enough about Charlie’s thought process to know what he was thinking. He would offer to pay her bills and provide for her during her setback, but she wouldn’t have it. She’d rather exhaust herself job hunting twenty–four hours a day, than depend on anyone.
* * *
Charlie picked up the remote next to him on the sofa and powered off the television. He wasn’t listening to the news anyway. All he could think about was the near–fight he and Lindsay had gotten into this morning. He’d managed to put it out of his mind during the flight, but as soon as the plane had landed safely, he’d switched back into worry mode.
He stepped onto the back deck to get some fresh ocean air and gather his thoughts. Reclining in a lounge chair, he concentrated on the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
Lindsay was beautiful inside and out, and he admired her independence, but wished she would scale it back a bit. Her illogical thinking demonstrated just how important that new job was to her. This setback could jeopardize her sanity.
Certainly once the medical center was rebuilt, her position would still be available to her. Charlie wondered though, how long could she pay the bills without any income in the interim. It frightened him to think what she would say, or do, if he tried to help. Why did she have to be so stubborn at times?
How could he help her without her
knowing
he was helping her? It seemed a nearly impossible feat. Charlie stood and paced the deck, both hands behind his head.
He’d wanted to inquire where Lindsay had applied for employment that night at the campground. He’d stopped short because, maybe subconsciously, he thought he may have to help her eventually. His dad has close ties in the medical community and could easily secure her employment if Charlie asked. But if he did, that could be the breaking point of their relationship.
Now he had to decide if helping her was worth the risk of losing her.
* * *
A full twenty–four hours had gone by since Charlie had heard from Lindsay, so he went to her apartment.
Lindsay answered the door after Charlie knocked three times. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes sunken behind huge bags.
“Come in.” She left the door wide open and walked off.
Charlie followed her to the kitchen, where a pot of tea brewed on the stove.
“You don’t look good,” Charlie said, sitting at the table.
Lindsay joined him with her mug of tea. “Thanks.”
“You know what I meant. I’m worried about you. I didn’t hear from you last night, and when I called today you didn’t answer.”
“I was probably sleeping. I just woke up a few minutes ago. Besides, there’s not much to tell.”
“Did you hear from your boss?”
“Yes. He said faulty electrical wiring caused the fire. It will take six months to rebuild, and my position will still be available to me.”
“That’s great.”
“You think so? And just what am I supposed to do in the meantime? And don’t even start with this stuff about you paying my bills. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. Although, I do wish you’d let me help you sometimes. I love you.” Charlie reached across the table and put his hand over hers.
“I know you do. I shouldn’t be so snappy. It’s hard to put on a front that everything is fine, when it’s so clearly not.”
“I don’t expect you to. I want you to be able to talk to me in good times and bad. All I ask is that you don’t shut me out.”
“Okay.”
“What are you thinking you might do in the meantime?”
“Obviously I can’t wait six months to work. I’m going to call some of the medical offices I’ve applied to in the past. If I don’t have any luck with that, I’ll have to go put in some new applications.”
“May I ask where you’ve already applied to?”
Lindsay went through a rundown of at least ten practices, before she finally divulged what Charlie really wanted to know. She hadn’t
applied at Charleston Family Medicine, his father Richard’s office, but she had applied at a doctor’s office close by—one that employed a close friend of Charlie’s dad.
Dr. Brent Taylor at Surfside Medical, an associate of Richard’s for more than forty years would take his recommendation into serious consideration. And Charlie was confident his dad would be willing to help. He couldn’t remember a single time since moving out on his own, that he’d asked him for anything.
“And you’re going to contact each one of those offices again?” Charlie asked.
“Oh yes. If I have to stay on the phone all day long, that’s what I’ll have to do.”
Charlie looked across the table at Lindsay. He couldn’t stand seeing her so depressed. There was no question as to what he had to do.
A bothersome thought crossed his mind: What if Lindsay heard the name Dr. Richard Mundy come up in conversation? It was a real possibility. What if she asked Charlie directly if he is related? Would he look her in the eyes and lie? Never.
All he could do is hope and pray she never asked.
Lindsay covered her mouth when she checked the available balance in her savings account. She should have checked her online banking a week ago, when her employment met its demise. The amount was less than what she’d expected. Substantially less. She needed a miracle … soon.
She felt better when she checked her email. Ireland had sent her a message that she was all settled in New York. She had already started her photography classes, and things with her and Jeffrey were going well. She asked Lindsay to write back and let her know how the new job was going.
Lindsay couldn’t reply to her email at the present time. She didn’t want to bring Ireland down. She would respond when there was happier news.
She powered off the computer and went to her bedroom, where her cell phone was buzzing on top of the bed. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hi, this is Michelle with Surfside Medical,” a nice young lady said. “The doctors have reviewed your application and have asked me to call you. We have a position available, and would like you start immediately.”