95. weird, USA.
JUNE 8TH, 2011 (WASHINGTON) -- CONTINUED
“What’re you going to do next?”
Charlie tore her eyes away from the children’s book. Olivia had crept up to her so quietly she hadn’t noticed her. She clasped the huge Van Gogh book to her chest like a shield; the face above it was solemnly thoughtful. “…I thought you wanted to explore the neighborhood more.”
“I’m not talking about the immediate future. I mean after this is all over. When we finally retire that tattered road atlas and clean out the last of the burger wrappers you managed to shove under the seats. What then?” Olivia shifted from foot to foot, her long skirt swaying rhythmically. “It feels like it’s been years since we had a proper talk.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy being all smooshy with Benji. And I’ve been busy screaming at Robbie.”
“I don’t love you any less, you know,” Olivia said. “Since Ben and I started dating. I hope you don’t think I replaced you with him.”
“Livvy, this may come as a shock to you, but… I’m not bisexual. I mean, I’m pretty adventurous, but sorry: you’re just not my type.”
“Don’t make this a joke,” Olivia said with mock severity. “I’m trying to be heartfelt here.”
“Sweetie, you know that isn’t really my jam-”
Olivia thwacked the side of her arm with the immense art book. “Charlotte Hawthorne, shut up and let me be touchy-feely with you for five minutes!”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
She huffed with exasperation. “Now. Back to my initial question: What are you going to do when this is over? Just go back to the old garage, work for Cyril again?”
“Well, yeah, I guess so,” Charlie shrugged uncomfortably. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I dunno, I guess I just thought that you’d want something different now.”
“I could always join the circus now that I have mad knife throwing skills,” Charlie quipped. “…I liked it at the garage, though. It was always fun to go into work there. Don’t really see a reason to leave it now.”
“Yeah, but… Don’t you want more than that?”
“You know I was never one for school or the nine to five in places where you couldn’t wear holey clothes every day.”
“I know that’s not your scene; but you don’t need to go for a fancy degree or wear a business suit every day to be successful. And I know you’ve never really had a problem with Cyril, but… I just think you’d be happier if you were your own boss. If you didn’t have to answer to anyone but yourself. There’s gotta be something out there, something more satisfying, that could play to your strengths.”
“Why does this mean so much to you?”
“Because I think you’re too smart and sharp to just settle for mediocre apathy. We shouldn’t just coast through life-we should be living it. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few weeks, and… This trip was sort of a last hoorah before settling down and being an adult; we all said as much when we set out. We were going to be irresponsible and have some wild fun and then come back and grow up. But I’ve decided that it’s pointless to let society define us, and it’s stupid to settle for the bare minimum. Maybe I don’t want to do the expected thing and go straight into grad school-maybe I’d rather explore a bit more.”
“You’re preaching to the choir on this, Livvy. I haven’t given two figs for what society thinks or wants since I was four years old and kicked Timmy Berin in the balls for telling me that girls couldn’t be Ninja Turtles.”
“You may not play into society’s expectations, but you’re not really challenging them, either. Or yourself. You put on a show and act differently, but what are you doing with your life to subvert the norm? I dunno, I mean… If you’re happy back at the garage, just ignore me. I just… I think you could do something bigger, that’s all. You could be more than what you are if you just put the effort in.”
“So… What you’re saying is… I’m not good enough as I am?” Charlie asked, dialing the temperature down several notches.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”
“You think the life I’ve chosen is pathetic or something?”
“Absolutely not; please don’t misinterpret-”
“First Robbie, now you. Jesus, why does everyone have to butt into my business?”
“Because we love you and we care about your future-”
“If you loved me you wouldn’t ask me to change!”
“I’m not asking you to change, I’m just saying I wished you’d challenge yourself! With Harry gone, someone has to push you!”
Charlie stared at her as she struggled to calm her breathing, her eyes flashing with frustration. She lifted one hand to push a damp strand of golden hair back behind her ear.
“You’ve said as much yourself: Harry always called you out on your bullshit and encouraged you to chase your dreams. Well, now that he’s gone, I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have that anymore. You’ve got me, and you’ve got Ben and Robbie. And I know you tend to ignore Ben, and you’re pretty pissed with Robbie right now-so I’m trying to step up to the plate. We’ve only got a couple more weeks left before we have to start making some big decisions, and I want you to think before you do anything. Figure out what you really want, what your dream is, and go for it. There’ll still be plenty of money left over-and I don’t think Harry would have objected at you using it for a solid purpose now that we’ve had our adventures.”
“I don’t…” Charlie said slowly, hand tightening around the slim volume of Winnie the Pooh. “I don’t know, Livvy. I don’t really… I mean, I’m all about living in the moment, right? Day by day. I don’t actually spend that much time thinking about the future-”
“You must have, even a little. No one can live purely by carpe diem literally every day.”
She fell thoughtfully silent, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Well… What do you plan to do?”
“Hey, I asked the question first-”
“I need time to think. Until then, turnabout is fair play. What’re your ambitions, Miss Insistent?”
“I… I want to find a place, somewhere quiet and away and not too big. Where I can just relax and think for a while. Get my feet back under me again, after all of this madness. Work on my art portfolio. Just… be.”
“With Benji?”
“Yes, of course with Ben,” Olivia said, cheeks flushing crimson. “Charlie, I know it’s embarrassing to you, and I know you don’t like hearing mushy stuff-especially about your brother-but… I’m pretty damn sure he’s the one.”
“Hubby material? Soul mate caliber?”
“Yeah. All of that. I’ve never felt so… Whole with someone before. I just feel so much better and happier about life, knowing he’s there for me. You probably think that’s silly and gooshy of me, but-”
“No, I don’t,” Charlie said softly. “I get it. I do. And I’m really, really happy for you, Livvy. For both of you. You’re good together.”
“And what about you and Robbie?” Olivia pried gently, leaning closer.
“The sex is phenomenal,” Charlie said, with some of her usual spark. “You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but the boy is as flexible as a trapeze acrobat-”
“Charlie.”
“Okay, alright, yeah, I love him. He gives me butterflies and starry eyes, all that sappy who-ha. He really gets me, and it’s nice to have someone who understands properly. He’s not afraid to go ten rounds with me in the ring, either, which makes him a first. And while I’m not the type to dream about weddings, and I’ve never really wanted kids, I could, maybe, kinda see myself settling down with him. Someday. At some point. Maybe. I dunno.”
“That’s great,” Olivia said with a wide smile. “Right? Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Charlie said sullenly, staring at the floor and rubbing the toe of one shoe against the hardwood until it squeaked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because… Because now it means I’ve got something to lose,” Charlie said. Her voice sharpened. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Liv. I am who I am, I live the way I do, by not giving a damn about much. Which means nothing can hurt me. If you don’t put stock into people’s expectations, you can’t feel bad when you disappoint them. If you don’t have dreams of grandeur, you can’t feel like a loser when you fall short. And if you never put your heart into a person, it can’t break if they fail you. That’s Charlie Hawthorne 101 right there. And I’ve been perfectly happy living by that guideline.”
“Have you really been living, though?” Olivia asked shrewdly.
Charlie blinked at her. “What?”
“You’re one of the bravest people I know, sweetie-but I think you may also be the biggest coward. You can’t ever win in life if you’re not willing to risk something in a gamble. And all the best things in life are gambles. Love, for example-that’s the biggest one. Just from the outside looking in, I can tell how mad Robbie is about you. He’d literally do anything to make you happy or keep you safe. But he also knows you’re your own person; he’s not demanding that you give everything up to be with him. He doesn’t want you to be subservient to him, or be at his beck and call. He’s a rare guy, and I’ve never met anyone who was your match on so many levels. If you push him away just because you’re afraid… Then, Charlie, I’d be disappointed in you.”
“He’s too noble for me,” Charlie tried to say lightly, dismissively. “Too responsible. Too fucking hopped up on doing good deeds. How do you live with a guy like that?”
“Day by day, I guess,” Olivia said pointedly. “God, that rain’s still coming down. Hear it on the roof? Like something out of the Bible…”
*****
“Here we are,” Mel announced cheerfully. “Twenty-two Wilming Road. It ain’t much, but it’s home.”
Ben looked up at the long row of brick apartments, with their wide stone steps leading up to painted wooden doors. There was a line of tall maple trees along the road, casting swaying shadows across the street and sidewalk as the wet wind tugged them to and fro. Several green leaves had been torn free and now lay plastered against the steps, soaking in tiny puddles of rainwater. It looked like a quiet neighborhood, slightly shabby from age rather than outright neglect. A dog barked several doors down before being called inside by the piping voice of a child.
“This looks like a nice place to live,” Ben said, following her up the steps.
“Oh, it is. It’s always been a nice neighborhood. Most of the people round here care about each other-Tommy Buckets, remember him? The hooligan who taught me how to hotwire a car? He still lives next door with his wife and grandson. His son and the wife were killed in a car accident a couple years back, and the little boy came to live with them. The whole family’s nice; they come check on me a couple times a week, make sure I’ve got turkey on Thanksgiving and ham on Christmas. Makes me feel less alone.”
She fumbled the keys out of her purse and managed to get the largest into the door’s lock. When she pushed it open, a loud and insistent meowing preceded the appearance of a calico tabby.
“Back, Cleo, back,” Mel chided firmly, prodding with her cane. “That’s Cleopatra-I named her that because she’s as big a diva as Elizabeth Taylor was. You ever see that movie?”
“Can’t say I have,” Ben chuckled. “I’m more for sci-fi and fantasy than historical epics.”
“Eh, that movie was too long by half. I remember watching it with my mother. She loved all those big pictures. Gone With the Wind and Ben-Hur. Get back, Cleo, so our guest can come inside.”
The entryway was understandably sparse, with a simple line of hooks on the wall for coats and hats. Mel took some time in shaking her umbrella dry, wrapping it up, and hanging it on the first, before setting to work unbuttoning her jacket and untying her rain bonnet.
“Lemme take that bag off you finally,” Mel said, smiling. At the sound of the clanking cans, Cleopatra perked up further and renewed her desperate meowing. “Oh, shut up, Cleo! It isn’t your dinner time just yet, anyway!” Trailing her fingertips along the wall for guidance, Mel rounded the corner into what was presumably-judging by the white and black tiled floor visible from the entryway-the kitchen. “Living room’s to your right, if you’d like to sit down for a moment. I can make us a cup of tea or coffee. It’s not often I have such an interesting young man for company.”
“Oh, thank you for the offer, Mel, but I really should be getting back,” Ben called. The only response was the creaking of cabinet hinges and the rattling of a drawer. He glanced into the darkened doorway of the living room and felt curiosity prickle the hairs on the back of his neck. He stepped inside and reached for the light switch. “I left my sister and girlfriend back at the bookstore-they’ve probably noticed I disappeared and are worrying-”
The light clicked on. The first thing he noticed was the plastic sheeting spread across the floor, the clear tarps sometimes used by painters.
The second thing was the paisley wallpaper.
Ben whirled to see a knife raised in one veined hand.