by Marian’s initial reaction to the call since, according to Katherine, she and Marian were such good friends, Charlotte took her time gathering her supplies. Normally, she didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping on her clients, but Marian’s strange, erratic behavior worried her.
“No, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our appointment,” Charlotte heard Marian say. “Aaron is sick,” she explained. “Just a stomach virus, I think, but I’m taking him to the doctor later this afternoon, and I expect to be tied up most of the weekend. If you want to, however, you could still look at the apartments on your own. B.J. should be home soon, and I’ll leave an extra set of keys with him. One thing though,” she added. “Right now the apartments aren’t very presentable. They’re a mess—construction and all of that. But if you wait until Sunday afternoon, they should be cleaned up by then.”
Still puzzled but satisfied that Marian was handling things okay and not wanting to seem too obvious about eavesdropping, Charlotte chose that moment to slip out of the room. After loading her vacuum cleaner and supplies into her van, she returned to the office to let Marian know she was leaving.
She found Marian seated at the desk, her head slumped forward.
“Ah, excuse me, but I wanted to let you know that I’m leaving now.”
Marian slowly raised her head, and when she faced Charlotte and nodded, there was a glazed look of despair about her.
Charlotte stepped closer. “Are you okay?”
The younger woman gave a one-shouldered shrug that reminded Charlotte of Aaron’s earlier gesture.
“Oh, Marian, what’s wrong?” she asked, growing more concerned.
“It’s just—I—” Marian shook her head. “Ever since Bill died, it’s been a strain to even talk to Katherine. It takes everything I have to be civil. Katherine still insists on holding on to the fantasy that Bill was the one who quit working for Drew, that he resigned in order to start his own company. And she refuses to even acknowledge that the real reason Bill left the agency was that Drew out-and-out fired him. After it happened, things were never the same again between us, any of us.”
When Bitsy had first told Charlotte about Drew’s and Bill’s relationship, Charlotte had ignored the information as simply gossip. But now it seemed as if the old lady had been right all along. It also explained Marian’s initial reaction to Katherine’s call.
“It didn’t use to be that way,” Marian continued in a sad, longing voice. “There was a time when the three of us—Bill, Drew, and I—were inseparable. Then, when Drew married Katherine, we grew even closer…for a while. But that was a long time ago…an eternity.”
Charlotte squeezed Marian’s shoulder. “I wonder, have you ever considered that maybe Katherine truly doesn’t realize what really happened, that Drew fired Bill? Maybe she only knows what her husband told her,” she offered by way of explanation.
Marian simply stared at Charlotte. “Oh, I’ve considered it all right. At first. I even tried to set her straight about it. But ever since Drew’s plane went down, she’s been different. She only hears what she wants to hear, and she absolutely refuses to listen to anything negative about him. In her eyes, he was a saint.” Marian laughed, a bitter sound without humor. “But I knew him long before he married Katherine. And I know what he’s—what he was capable of. Drew Bergeron was no saint by any stretch of the imagination. But, hey—” Marian suddenly brightened, albeit assuming a facade that Charlotte recognized for what it was, a cover-up for her embarrassment. “I’m sure you have better things to do than to listen to my boring past.”
Charlotte smiled gently. “Any time you need someone to talk to, my middle name is discretion.” Then, to save Marian further embarrassment, Charlotte changed the subject. “I do have to get going though, but good luck with Aaron—I hope he feels better soon—and I’ll see you on Monday.”
After retrieving her purse from the kitchen, Charlotte stopped by Aaron’s room on her way out to say good-bye. But the little boy was curled up on his bed, fast asleep.
The sleep of the angels, she thought. All little children looked like angels while they slept. How many times had she stood just inside her own little boy’s bedroom and simply watched him sleep? Not enough, she decided as a heavy feeling settled in her chest. And her son was no longer a little boy but a grown man.
Unbidden, a quote from Agatha Christie popped into her mind. One doesn’t recognize in one’s life the really important moments—not until it’s too late. No truer words had ever been spoken, Charlotte decided as the heaviness in her chest grew. If only she’d known then what she knew now, if she’d realized how fast the years would go by, just how soon she’d be facing her sixtieth birthday, wouldn’t she have savored those moments a lot more?
Easing out of the room, Charlotte felt a tear slide down her cheek. Maybe she would have, she thought as she slowly made her way down the hall. At least she hoped she would have.
Outside, the afternoon sky was clouding over, giving the day a dreary cast that only seemed to deepen Charlotte’s melancholy mood. As she trudged slowly down the narrow sidewalk to the van, it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. The temptation to simply go home and crawl into bed was strong. But she still had her hair appointment, and as she’d told Marian, she still had one more chore to do, one last walk-through at the old Devilier house, all before she could call it a day.
Charlotte glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she just might have enough time to do the walk-through before it got dark.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled the van keys out of her apron pocket, but just as she unlocked the door, a battered old truck pulled up behind the van.
Recognizing the white truck, she almost groaned out loud. “Great,” she muttered. “Just what I need right now.”
The driver’s side of the truck opened. “Hey there, Charlotte. I was wondering if I’d have the pleasure of seeing you today.”
Charlotte forced a friendly smile. Careful though. Mustn’t act too friendly, she reminded herself. She’d learned early on that being discreet was the name of the game when dealing with the man approaching her.
Sam Roberts was a handyman of sorts who had been employed by Marian’s husband first, then by Marian after her husband’s death. If it hadn’t been for the scraggly beard that Sam wore, he could have easily passed for a Willie Nelson look-alike.
But that was where any comparison between the two men came to a screeching halt. In Charlotte’s opinion, Sam talked too much, for one thing. And he was loud. But it was the flirting that really got her goat. Not that she minded flirting. She’d been flirted with before and had done some flirting back, but Sam was different. She’d tried telling herself that his teasing was just his way of being friendly, but every time she talked to him, he always managed to say something that was just off-color enough to be offensive and make her really uncomfortable.
Now be nice, Charlotte, her conscience cautioned.
Charlotte had always been the type of person to look for something positive about everyone she met, and she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that Sam had his good points too. According to Marian, he’d proven to be indispensable since Bill’s death. And in all fairness, he worked hard and was good at his job. He also appeared to really care about Marian and her boys. From what she’d observed, he was always patient and kind to the boys despite Aaron’s endless questions and B.J.’s sullen
