So no, it was not just like high school all over again. She no longer needed to lean upon Charlie’s broad shoulders.
But then her gaze squared with his, and her traitorous heart thumped harder. Charlie looked as devastating as ever with his blazing blue eyes, jet-black hair…and that twice-broken nose that always made her want to reach out her hand to him—just in case he needed one to hold on to, but was too proud to ask. Noticing her hand extending now, she whipped it behind her back. “Thanks. You men look good, too…not as good as Simone and me, but good.”
Charlie smiled, turned to Simone, and began scrutinizing her with a clinical eye that was none too polite. “I want to amend my former statement regarding how you look.”
“You don’t think the ladies look lovely?” With a chuckle, Nate clapped Charlie on the back.
“No. I do think they both look more than lovely. It’s only that Simone, I gotta tell you, your lips are pale and you’ve got reddish circles under your eyes. I think you may be anemic. When was the last time you saw your doctor?”
“Well, thank you, Dr. Drexler, for your concern. As it happens, I saw my primary care physician a few days ago, and you must be a very clever doctor indeed, because I am, in fact, anemic, which is why we’re having spinach as a side dish.”
Nate let out a groan. “But that makes three nights in a row.”
“It won’t hurt you to get a little extra iron in your diet, too, Nate.” Simone dusted her hands as if ending the argument neatly.
Turning to Anna and Charlie, Nate played to his audience. “I’ve had so much damned spinach lately, last night I called out ‘Oh, Olive Oyl’ when Simone and I were—”
Simone’s eyes widened. “Nathan Henry Carlisle Junior, don’t you dare embarrass me.”
Nate looked at Simone with a mix of adoration and fun in his eyes. “Sorry, honey. But Charlie and Anna both know where babies come from, and well, you see, we’ve got one sleeping soundly upstairs right this minute, so I think our secret’s out.” He grinned widely. “That’s right, Drex. I’m a happily married man, and I don’t care who knows it.” He turned back to Simone and stepped close. “Which is why I want to present you with a small token of my affection. Go ahead honey, reach right in my pocket and see what I’ve got for you.”
Simone eagerly dipped her hand in her husband’s pants pocket.
“Whoa. Not that far in my pocket.”
Blushing, she pulled her hand out and along with it a flat black box imprinted with the Haltom’s Jewelers logo. She smoothed back her hair, smiled happily, and opened the box with a gasp, revealing a square-cut emerald surrounded by a border of pave diamonds on a gold chain.
“Oh my goodness, Nate, you really shouldn’t have.”
“I certainly should have. You’re the mother of my little Bobby and the love of my life aren’t you?”
Simone’s face blanched even whiter than before.
“What’s the matter, babe? You wear that phony emerald all the time, and I wanted you to have the real thing. But if it’s not to your taste I can always take it back.”
“No, I…I adore it, Nate.” She reached for Nate’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re so thoughtful. I…I don’t deserve you.”
“Are you trembling from happiness then?”
Simone shook her head and pointed to the flat screen television, which was turned on in the family room and set to mute with captions. Anna turned her head to follow Simone’s stare and caught sight of Charlie in her peripheral vision. He’d gone as white as the anemic Simone.
The room grew hushed as all eyes followed the caption scrolling across the television screen beneath a smiling photograph of a beautiful young woman.
TCU student found hanged in her dorm room, an apparent suicide. Details at ten.
Anna’s head felt fuzzy for a moment, but cleared quickly. It wasn’t her.
Nate put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I’ll get you a Jack on the rocks, buddy.”
Without a word, Charlie folded down onto the family-room couch.
Seconds ticked by.
“Well good lord, am I the only one with balls enough to call out the elephant in the room?” Nate asked. “That woman looks a whole damn lot like Megan O’Neal. It’s like I just saw a ghost.”
Saturday Night
ANNA WANTED TO SHAKE Charlie. She tossed her purse onto the couch next to him and then picked it up again and slung it over her shoulder. She wasn’t staying here in his apartment—not one minute longer than the time it took to make sure he was okay. Digging her heels into the carpet, she steeled her heart and willed her feet to stay rooted to that spot, lest she give in to the nearly overwhelming urge to sit beside him, stroke his cheek—comfort him. She narrowed her eyes and made her tone brisk. “So that’s it then, every time you hear about a suicide on the news you get drunk.”
Cradling his face in his palms, he shook his head. “Of course not. It’s just tonight, you know, being home, seeing you again, and then her.”