“Thanks,” she whispered. “Have a good night.”
“You too, ma’am!” he said, stumbling down the steps and back to his Honda Civic hatchback.
Charlotte closed the door behind her and walked slowly back to the kitchen. She placed the pizza on the counter, suddenly not so hungry.
She knew instinctively it was from him.
She tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of yellow paper, the kind torn from a notepad. It shook in her hand as she read his slanted and still sloppy handwriting.
Charlotte…
You ran away before I could say anything, not that I would have known what to say. Seeing you here was one of the biggest shocks of my life, and clearly it was for you too. It’s been so long… I can’t pretend the thought of you hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two hundred. This wasn’t how I would have wanted to run into you. Is it possible we can run into one another again? Catch up a bit? I would love to talk to you, though I know I don’t deserve any sort of conversation with you. But I also didn’t want to just show up and upset you. So I will leave the ball in your court. I live here now… It’s a long story, but I’m here for now. I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but if it’s for a while, it’s probably best we talk so neither of us has to feel awkward. All I want is for you to be happy. I hope you are.
-Declan
Charlotte could barely read his signature by the end. Everything was a blur through the tears.
Ten Years Earlier…
“What should I wear?”
Charlotte stood in front of the full-length mirror next to her closet clad in only a lacy pair of underwear and bra.
Declan walked over to her, bending down to kiss her neck while his hands roamed over her body, “Nothing at all. That always looks best on you.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and swatted him away, “Seriously. I want to make the right impression on your parents. I don’t want them to think I’m some harlot that’s shacking up on their property.”
“Harlot? Who uses that word?” he laughed as he grabbed her waist and spun her around. “Wear whatever you want. It’s not anything formal. It’s just a regular dinner at the DeGraff house.”
“As if anything about your family is ‘regular’,” she retorted. “You live in a house that’s on the National Historic Register. You have a live-in maid. This is not the typical family I’m meeting here.”
Declan stopped to kiss her softly on the mouth, “You’re flailing. Don’t flail. It’s all okay. What’s the worst that can happen? They hate you? It’s not likely, but even if they did, it would probably only make me love you more.” He grinned.
“I’ll go with the Lily,” she said, sashaying back to her walk-in closet and sifting through the rack of clothes hanging there. “It’s Charleston. I can never go wrong with some Lily Pulitzer, right?”
“I guess,” Declan said, collapsing on Charlotte’s bed. “I’ve never known what the big deal is about her. The prints are so weird.”
“She’s classic,” Charlotte was muffled as she spoke to him from inside the closet. “Jackie Kennedy wore Lily!”
“I’d rather be with a Marilyn,” he said. “And you are definitely a Marilyn.”
“Well, I kind of hope not,” Charlotte said. “It didn’t work out very well for her.”
Declan shrugged, “It doesn’t work out very well for any of us in the end.”
Charlotte stiffened.
“Shit,” he said, suddenly realizing how it sounded. “That was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dismiss…”
Charlotte smiled, “It’s fine. I’m not that sensitive about my mother. And its kind of true, isn’t it? So we might as well enjoy the moments we have.” She held up the dress to examine it more closely. “Yep. This’ll work. If I can tame this wild mane of mine, I might just look like a respectable Charleston girl.”
********
It was strange to enter the main house. Charlotte saw the outside of it every morning, and admired the Roman Tuscan columns and the moss-covered stone steps that led to the large, wood paneled door of the DeGraff home. It had two stories of sweeping, wrap around porches. It was something out of a movie, Declan’s house. And going inside it made her very nervous.
When they walked inside, they were greeted by a grand foyer with double staircases cascading up to the next floor, a considerable chandelier hanging high above between both sets of stairs.
“Wow,” Charlotte couldn’t help but utter. “This is beautiful.”
Declan took her by the hand, “The dining room is this way.”
They walked through numerous rooms to get there; a library, an office, and a home gym. Charlotte was speechless.
The dining room consisted of a long mahogany table that could fit at least twenty but was set for four people, all on one end.
“I can smell dinner already!” Declan declared. “What do you think?”