“Oh.” Charlotte pressed her free hand to her mouth. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Sam bobbed his head. “I’ve been in touch with his friend who has the dog, but then I got hurt.” He sighed and leaned his head against hers. “I’m just thankful it’s not too late.” The breath he released was shaky as it brushed across the skin of her arms. “Charlotte, I have to do this before it’s too late. It has been eating at me. I was supposed to do it weeks ago, then everything happened. It has to be now before it is too late.”

  Charlotte nodded, turning and pulling him into a hug. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” Taking a moment, she relished the heat of his skin seeping through the strands of her hair, the warm rush of his breath against her cheek. “Sam?”

  “Hmm?” He leaned forward so he could look sideways at her without shifting them. Charlotte reached back and pressed her hand against his cheek.

  “How are you so wonderful?”

  He released a quick, jerky laugh. “It’s nothing.”

  “Risking your job to grant a dying man’s wish? That’s... I don’t even have words to describe that.”

  “I want to help him,” he said. Then he shrugged. “Besides, they won’t fire me. At most, I’ll get a stern reprimand for propriety’s sake.”

  Charlotte’s eyes misted. He’d never understand. Never see himself the way she saw him. She settled for kissing him and allowing every emotion that was roiling inside her to engulf them both.

  “Will you stay for a while?” she asked when they broke apart, breathless.

  Sam released a grunt of laughter. “Chuck, it’s only been twenty-four hours since I turned down your last proposition due to injury.” He cupped a hand over her cheek, pressing another kiss to her lips. “I want to, so badly. Maybe you’re right, maybe the doctor’s—”

  Charlotte shook her head, silencing him with her mouth. When she drew back, she brushed the hair off his brow. “No, you are right. If you hurt yourself worse, we may have to postpone this even longer. It isn’t a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Sam chewed his lip, nodding gravely. “I suppose that’s a valid point.”

  Carefully, Charlotte snuggled into his side. “I just thought we could talk. What did you do today? What brought you to town? You know there are phones. You didn’t have to come here to ask me about Mr. Edwards.”

  Sam propped his head against hers, where it rested on his shoulder. “Two things, if I called you, I wouldn’t have been able to kiss you or see your beautiful face, and I was already in town. I had brunch with my parents.”

  Charlotte smacked him, careful to avoid any bandaged areas. “That started off being so romantic.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Wait a minute.” Charlotte tipped her head back to look at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Dan brunched?”

  Sam snorted. “Oh, Dan loves brunch, don’t let him tell you otherwise. He even ordered crepes.” He leaned closer and whispered, “And a mimosa.”

  “Bah!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I’m going to bug him endlessly about this. Seriously, to the end of our days.”

  She felt Sam smile against the top of her head. “I don’t doubt it for a moment, and I can’t wait.”

  “Also,” she added, “how dare you guys not invite me to brunch? You all know how I feel about food.”

  ***

  They waited until Sunday evening, when the hospital halls were nearly deserted. Mr. Edwards’s friend Henry, back bowed with age and eyes bright with the promise of adventure, met them in the parking lot. At his side, a round, jovial black lab waited, tail thumping against the ground as everyone said their hellos. Charlotte squatted, letting the dog lick her cheeks until she fell back onto the floor, laughing. Sam pulled her up as best he could, planting a quick kiss on her cheek before he led them to the hospital’s side entrance closest to the hospice wing and opened the door.

  “Come on.” He beckoned them in. Henry grinned and took off down the hall at a surprising speed without waiting for Sam, Charlotte, or Rocky, whose long tongue lolled from his smiling face in accommodating happiness.

  The walk down the hall seemed to take an eternity, and collectively the three of them attempted to cover the clicking of Rocky’s nails with their voices. They reached Mr. Edwards’s room, and Sam pushed open the door.

  Soft snores merged with the click and whoosh of breathing machines to greet them. Rocky’s ears pricked, and his black nose inched skyward.

  “Come on, boy.” Sam guided the dog to Mr. Edwards’s bedside. Without urging, Rocky placed his front paws on the mattress and licked his master’s sallow cheeks.

  One piercing blue eye opened, fluttering as he struggled to focus. “Rocky?” Mr. Edwards asked in disbelief. “Rocky, old fellow, is that you?”

  Mr. Edwards raised his head, taking in Henry, Sam, and Charlotte standing side by side at the foot of the bed. His overly bright gaze met Sam’s and, wordlessly, he held out a hand. Sam stepped forward and seized it. The flesh had fallen from the foundation of what had once been a broad and muscular extremity. Enough strength remained to convey his emotion to Sam as he squeezed.

  With a whine, Rocky clambered up and reclined himself against Mr. Edward’s chest. His doggy features were a study of pure joy as he lounged there, panting.

  Sam swallowed hard and risked a glance at Charlotte. Her eyes were on Mr. Edwards, watching as he cuddled the dog against his chest. Fingers as gnarled as tree roots, moved in a steady rhythm over the animal’s speckled belly. The muscles in Charlotte’s jaw bunched and jumped, and Sam realized she was fighting not to cry.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this, lad,” Mr. Edwards croaked. He placed a gentle kiss on Rocky’s shiny head. “This is the one goodbye I never dreamed I’d get to make.”

  Sam shook his head. “Please, don’t thank me. I’m only sorry it took so long for me to get here with him.”

  Mr. Edwards’s head bobbed, and he rested it against Rocky’s. “I heard what happened. The whole place was shaken right up because of it.” His hand caressed the silky flap of the dog’s ear below his chin. “I’ll never understand what it is that leads people to make the choices they do.”

  Sam stood silent a moment, digesting the words and testing his emotions on the matter. Finally, he sighed. “The man who attacked me is sick and needs help. I only hope he gets it for the sake of his son.” A flush of guilt swept over him. Mentally, he scratched out a note to call the police station and see what he could find out about the boy. Curiosity and worry weighed on him still, and there was no excuse for not doing so sooner. It had been nearly three weeks now, and denial could not change the fact deep down, there was a part of him harbouring a pocket of burning anger.

  “Well, we sure are thankful you’re all right.” Some spirits had returned to Mr. Edwards’s eyes. He winked at Sam, jerking his chin in Charlotte’s direction, “I’ll bet this pretty little thing is too.”

  Sam groaned. “I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards, this is Charlotte Baker. Charlotte helped us get Rocky in here.”

  Charlotte stepped up beside Sam and held a hand to Mr. Edwards. “Honestly, I did nothing, but I’m so glad to have met you and Rocky.” She smiled and looked up at Sam. “And you’re right. I’m extremely thankful.”

  Mr. Edwards took Charlotte’s hand, but instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his lips. “Take good care of this one,” he whispered. The web of lines around his eyes contracted with his soft smile. “You won’t find a man like him every day.” He held her gaze until she nodded.

  “I know, sir. And I promise.”

  Blood heated Sam’s face. When Charlotte looked at him, he dropped his gaze to the floor, pretending he had not heard.

  Rocky let out a grunt, shattering the moment of silence, and settled deeper into the bed. Soulful brown eyes studied his audience, then slid closed with a sigh of contentment.

  “Oh, that’s my boy. We slept like this since he was a pup. They took him too soon from his mama, you know. He always needed extra love.”

  Sam suspected Rocky hadn’t been the only one. The first time he met Mr. Edwards, he had told Sam the story of how he had adopted Rocky only days after his wife’s passing.

  “Mr. Edwards, I’m afraid we won’t be able to leave him here too long.” Sam swallowed against the thickness that refused to release its hold on his throat. “But we will give you a few moments alone.” He put his arm around Charlotte and led her toward the door. Henry, who had scarcely said a word since they entered, cleared his throat with a sharp tearing noise.

  “I’ll be along in a moment,” he said without taking his eyes off the pair on the bed.

  Sam and Charlotte stepped outside the door and stood together in silence. No words lent themselves to the moment, and so they stood hand in hand, their heads leaned against each other as they waited.

  CHAPTER 26

  Charlotte sat on Carmen’s couch and studied her across the rim of her coffee cup. “You’re all twitchy. What’s going on?” she asked.

  Carmen bounced her leg, a goofy smile creeping across her face. “Well, remember when I almost puked on you the night I forced you to date, Sam?”

  “How would a girl forget a night like that one?”

  Carmen pressed both fists up to her chin in excitement. “It turns out it wasn’t something I ate,” she hissed in a stage whisper.

  “Ah shit.” Charlotte cocked her head and wiggled her eyebrows. “Did one of the little swimmers stick?”

  Carmen tried to scowl but failed and laughed. “Why are you such a creep? But, yes! Yes, one did!” Blinding happiness shone on her face.

  Charlotte grinned, hopping to her feet to throw her arms around her friend. “Congratulations babe, jerkiness aside, I am so happy for you.”

  Carmen released her and started pacing the room. “We haven’t told Dan and Alice yet, but I couldn’t keep it a secret from you.”

  “I would have figured it out anyway as soon as you gained so much as a pound.”

  “That might never happen if I can’t stop vomiting.” Carmen wrinkled her nose and settled back on the couch. “We are pretty happy, but I know it scares Sawyer. Some terrible memories are cropping up for him. He tries to hide it from me, but I know.” She sighed. “He keeps waking up in a cold sweat and refusing to tell me why.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Of course, those memories are going to come up, but everything will be all right.”

  Carmen nodded, but worry chased some joy from her green eyes. She pressed on hand to the flat plane of her stomach, “I’ll feel better once I know this little bean is healthy.”

  “He will be. I know it.” Charlotte squeezed her hand. “You guys are meant to be parents. It’s definitely written in the stars or some shit.” She waved an encompassing arm in the ceiling’s direction.

  Carmen blinked and shook her head as if she could clear the worry from it like cobwebs. “Speaking of meant to be, how are you and Sam doing?”

  “We are doing very good.” Charlotte smiled enigmatically, knowing the lack of details would drive Carmen up the wall.

  Carmen sat and inched closer on the couch. “Have you two... you know, done it yet?” she whispered.

  Charlotte blinked at her with faux innocence. “Done what?”

  “Oh, come on! Did you go all the way?”

  Charlotte shook her head, settling back into the couch. “Wow, are we in grade school?”

  “Chuck, come on!”

  Charlotte laughed, “No, snoopy Stevenson, we have not gone all the way. Nor have we screwed or boinked. He was on doctor’s orders to do no strenuous activities for six weeks after the... incident. And after how long it’s been for me, you can bet your ass I’m putting that boy through his paces. Strenuous will be putting it lightly.”

  Carmen let out a wild laugh, then pressed her hands to her mouth. “My gosh, you are crude,” she said. It came out muffled through her fingers.

  Charlotte shrugged. “I am what I am.”

  “Oh, my God!” Carmen held up a hand in exclamation to her thought. “If you guys have babies, our kids will be cousins!”

  Charlotte sat bolt upright, her heart jumping into her throat. “That’s a bit of a jump, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, shut it.” Carmen reached over and poked Charlotte in the ribs. “You know you love him.”

  “That isn’t always enough, you know. Life isn’t a fairy tale.”

  “It can be, Chuck. Don’t be jaded. You guys could get married, and we could start our own little Stevenson clan. Can you imagine if they got Sam’s eyes and your dark cur—”

  “Carmen!” Charlotte barked. “I don’t want kids.” Then she winced and rubbed a hand over her face before saying in a calmer voice, “I don’t want to have children. Ever.”

  Carmen frowned, a flush crawling up her neck and into her cheeks. “I guess I thought you’re so good with them you would want your own.”

  Charlotte swallowed against a wave of guilt. Why was she such a bag? Carmen was only happy and wanted to spread the joy around, just like every knocked-up woman had since the beginning of time. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m going to love your little brats. I expect them to call me Auntie Chuck, not only to screw with people, but because I’m pretty sure it is going to sound like Auntie Fuck.” She looked away from Carmen, uncomfortable under her silent scrutiny. “I’m just never having any of my own.”

  “Charlotte,” Carmen said, resorting to her teacher’s voice to shut Charlotte up, and pinned her with a stern look. “Why don’t you want kids?”

  “It’s 2020. If I don’t want kids, that’s my prerogative. Don’t make me sing Brittany to you.”

  “Can you just be serious for once?” Carmen snapped. She actually sounded annoyed, and Charlotte’s temper flared in response.

  “Why does it matter so much to you?”

  Carmen narrowed her eyes. “Because you’re my friend, and I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, you should, because if you want to start something with Sam, he needs to know about this.”

  Carmen’s words were like ice water sluicing over Charlotte’s head. “He wants kids,” she said. It wasn’t a question. Charlotte knew he did. He always had. He’d talked about it even when they were kids themselves. How in the hell had she allowed herself to forget about that? How had she been so stupid?

  Carmen’s cheeks flushed even darker under their mantle of freckles. “Don’t mess this up. I can’t stand how you two act about each other. It’s so... so infuriating.” She added a tiny stomp of her foot for emphasis. Charlotte had to restrain the urge to laugh despite the churning pit of anxiety that boiled to life in her stomach.

  “Hate to break it to you, Carm, but women don’t have to have babies just because they’re in love.”

  Carmen’s hand rose to her abdomen, protecting it. Her green eyes sparkled as they filled with tears.

  Charlotte flushed with guilt. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

  “You can do whatever you want, Charlotte, as long as it’s for a real, tangible reason. Not some preconceived problem you’re too stubborn to let your friends and family help you with.” Carmen’s voice broke. She crossed her arms, glaring at the top of the coffee table until Charlotte cleared her throat, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

  “My mom had postpartum,” she whispered. The words stuck to her tongue, but she forced them free. “The doctors called it baby blues back then. They told her to rest, spend time with her friends, but the problem was she didn’t have friends.”

  Charlotte paused, swallowing hard. “She only had my dad, and he loved her, but I always got the impression it was in the way a moth loves a flame. Fleeting and fearful of being burned.” Charlotte drew a breath, studying the knots of her twined fingers. “He worked all day, every day, to support us. She struggled with her English. One day dad came home from work, and I was with the neighbor. She watched me sometimes so my mom could sleep. The lady had thought nothing of it when my mom asked her to take me and keep me safe until my dad came home.”

  Charlotte forced herself to look at Carmen. She needed her to see how serious this was. The fear Charlotte carried inside her like a secret, open wound. The truth was, she would love to have children, and having them with Sam would be more wonderful than she could express. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t take the risk.

  “The door was locked when my dad took me back,” she said. “In the end, he busted it down. When he got inside, my mom was on the couch. She used pills. He was too late. If he’d just come home an hour earlier for once—” Charlotte stopped the spillage of words and hauled in a lungful of air.

  Carmen was staring at her, eyes bright with tears while more tracked down her cheeks unhindered. “Holy shit. Chuck,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”

  “Besides my dad, you are literally, and I mean literally, in the truest sense of the word, are the only person I’ve ever told.”

  “Not even—”

  “Not even Sam. He knows that she’s gone, of course. Maybe not the complete story, but that she killed herself. He would have to. Dan and Alice know, of course. They basically took us in when we moved to town. I didn’t know all of it myself until I was twenty.”

  “Chuck.” Carmen leaned forward and caught Charlotte’s hands from where they rested in her lap. She had the look of someone about to deliver the sort of speech Charlotte loved to avoid. “I can see where you are coming from with the kid issue now. I do,” she said. “Every time I raise a drink to my lips, part of me fears I’ve got my mother’s alcoholic gene.”

  Charlotte waved her free hand dismissively. “Your brother got that, and I’m pretty sure only one spawn is allowed to get the shit genes.”

  “Shhh,” Carmen said. “Yes, Jake got it, but that’s not at all how it works. The point is, I didn’t, and your mother’s illness does not automatically mean you will suffer the same. If you genuinely don’t want children, that is every bit your choice, but you need to make sure that decision is coming from a place of reason and not because fear is dictating you. Things are different now. There is support for new mothers, medications if need be, but—” Her grip on Charlotte’s hand tightened. “Most of all, you’re not a lonely immigrant, new to Canada. You have an entire family who loves you like crazy.”

 

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