Off the Mark, page 30
Her fingers paused, gaze rising to mine. “The lesson here is that when you’re confronted with two choices and one is working with a stodgy corporation and the other is a team of fearless, bloodthirsty women…”
“Go with the fearless, bloodthirsty women every single time,” I replied.
And the relieved smile that flew across my face as soon as I said those words was the final indication I needed that my instincts were correct.
“You bet.” She stood without taking her attention off her phone. “If I’m calling you later today, it’s because I’ve got good news on the team front.” She tapped a second more before slipping her phone away and resting a hand on my shoulder. “Being on a team will be different for you, Charlie. They’ll be relying on your performance. But also, you’ll be relying on them.”
“Helping one another,” I said.
“How do you feel about that?”
I hummed under my breath, thought about what Rowan had said yesterday—all the vulnerability about asking for help, but also the reward. You drove five hours in the middle of the night to sit with me when I was in the hospital. I asked and you came. Didn’t make me weak for asking either. It did make me realize that I could rely on you.
“I feel like…” I drew out the words as my mind raced. “I should give this whole asking-for-help thing a shot.”
Dempsey winked. “That’s my girl.”
She spun to leave, then seemed to change her mind. She dropped a hand to the back of her chair, nails drumming across the top. “I’m not speaking as an agent here, but as a retired rider. What your dad’s gone through is much too common in this industry. His pain and depression. His listlessness. Even his struggles with money, though I know Malcolm hasn’t always made the smartest decisions when it comes to his finances. But it’s like we take our last turn around that track, and the world is zapped of its color.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t even have to tell you how hard it will be when that time comes for you. You lived it with Malcolm. Our bodies can’t do this forever, and the only way I could prepare for that day was to have a plan for my future.”
Heat flooded my face. I’d said something similar to Rowan last night, about how much I admired him—an athlete who’d come out the other side of retirement without losing himself.
“You don’t have to have it all mapped out, but starting to accept that reality will help, Charlie. Joining a team is the best next step, but what comes after that will be up to you.”
I stood and hugged her. “Thank you for saying that. I wouldn’t want to do any of this without you.”
“Same here, babe. Now, time’s a’wastin’. Go get your man.”
Dempsey walked away, leaving me at the table with half a latte, one less sponsor and—hopefully—an entire team in my future. And when I reached into my bag for my phone, my fingers closed around plastic instead.
Curious, I fished it out and realized it was a raspberry Ring Pop. Rowan must have slipped it in there at some point when I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t even be surprised by the gesture.
We were always doing things for each other, back at Jolene’s, weren’t we?
I held it between my fingers. My entire body was suddenly so buoyant I thought I might float away, up into the blue summer sky, over the skyline of the city Rowan loved with his whole being.
If I had to base my understanding of what falling in love felt like, it’d be something dramatic courtesy of the romantic comedies I’d been slightly confused by as a teenager—realizing you were in love was like being struck by lightning, or swept away by a tidal wave, or devastated by a hurricane.
I’d convinced myself I wasn’t in love with Rowan because I couldn’t point to the one moment when I felt struck by lightning. The hot, frenetic attraction between us was always on the “instantly devastating” side of things, but our emotional connection was more like the steady growth of flowers blooming in a garden.
It grew and grew, bolstered by our friendship, our tentative trust, all the times we took care of each other in ways that felt natural to me.
I’d shown up in Philly, stumbled back into Rowan’s life with a bizarre request, and then been shocked at the intensity of my feelings for him, even after years apart.
But I shouldn’t have been. I was only stumbling back into the wild, abundant garden of our love. Reaching for the sun, reaching for more no matter the season.
I curled my fingers around the candy and pressed it to my lips with a smile. Then I grabbed my phone and dialed a new number.
Tabitha answered with a cheery greeting. “I’ve been waiting for you to call. Are we doing a girls’ night? I can make myself free immediately. Listen, that’s the sound of me shoving my work into a trashcan.”
I laughed. “Yes, to a girls’ night, but before we do that…can I call in a girls’ favor?”
28
ROWAN
“Did you sleep here last night?”
I blearily opened my eyes—it took me a second to realize it was a) morning and b) I’d crashed on my grandmother’s couch. Which explained why my entire body felt like crumpled-up death—it was a foot too short for my legs.
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna wake you,” I grumbled. “It was late, and you were sound asleep.”
My grandmother clicked her tongue and placed her hand on my forehead the way she used to when I was sick. “Are you all right, dear?”
I pushed myself to sit, knocking off all the pillows in the process. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was out late last night at this event with Charlie”—my stomach pitched like I was seasick— “and when I got back to my place, it felt a little lonely. Want me to make us a pot of coffee before I go into work?”
I swung my sore legs to the floor with a wince. She sat next to me on the couch, still in her bathrobe, and fixed me with a stare. “No need. Dean’s coming by in a minute with coffee and that breakfast casserole Midge makes so well.”
“Oh yeah? That’s nice of him.”
“It’s for you,” she said. “The whole block is talking about it.”
A chill raced down my spine. Someone probably overheard my argument with Charlie last night or saw me walking home looking like Charlie Brown post-football, and now half of South Philly was gonna think we broke up.
Faking relationships is easy.
When I’d finally fallen into a restless sleep, my dreams had been fractured and weird and full of Charlie.
“Talking about what?” I asked.
My grandmother wrapped her arms around my side. “Your new job being official. My grandson, the executive director.”
It took me a moment to remember I’d shared the good news with Alice and Dean before heading to the gala. “Right, right. I got a new gig. Kind of a big deal too.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said proudly. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone at church on Sunday.”
I grinned. “You mean brag.”
“Yes, I do.”
I went to stand but she stopped me with her hand. “It is a big deal, Rowan. The whole neighborhood is talking about it because we’re so proud of you.”
I rubbed the space between my shoulder blades and felt the rigid tension there. But beneath everything that had happened after our argument, there was still the conversation I had with the Wilkinsons that felt like a legit victory. There was that sense that I was suddenly in the right place, at the right time, with the right—new—job.
“I’m happy. Beyond happy. And I think mom and dad would be too,” I said.
She beamed. “Having a career that includes major league baseball as well as directing a nonprofit is quite the accomplishment, dear. There’s no doubt they’d be as happy for you as I am. Which is saying something, because I’m over the moon.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I said. “At first, I was so sure I was the absolute wrong guy—inexperienced, too much of an amateur. But now I can’t picture doing anything but this.”
She patted my knee softly. “Taking risks feels like too much of a gamble when you’ve already lost so much. But even after losing your parents, you never stopped living—though I know so much of it can be scary. It certainly has been for me sometimes. Your mom and your dad were two people who embraced change with wide-open arms. They were…” Her voice caught. “They were extraordinary together. Just like you.”
Charlie had said the same thing last night.
Her face softened as she examined the picture I’d been looking at—the honeymoon trip photo, where my parents were posed on the hood of their car with the Grand Canyon behind them.
She took it from the coffee table and smoothed the edges down. “You always did love this picture. Used to carry it around with you instead of a stuffed animal sometimes.”
My throat felt too raw, so I dropped my head to her shoulder instead.
“The summer months are hard on you too,” she murmured. “I forget that sometimes. You do such a nice job of making sure that I’m okay that I sometimes forget to do the same for you.”
“I’m missing them a lot lately,” I said simply.
“Me too. Every day.”
“On bad days, when I look at this picture, I imagine that they live there. That this is some recent postcard they’ve sent us from their new life in Arizona.”
“If only it was,” she replied. “If only.”
She let me sit like that for a minute, stroking my hair. When I finally sat up, I pressed my palms into my eyes and sniffed. I expected to find Alice watery-eyed too, but she was smiling, oddly enough.
It was a secretive smile, an I know something you don’t vibe that had me perking up, curious.
“What’s that look for?” I asked.
She waved her finger in a circle around my face. “You look like an anvil just dropped on your head.”
I scoffed, then raked my hands through my hair. “I’m sleep-deprived and in need of coffee, you mean.”
“It’s because of the anvil.”
“Last night I slept on a couch made for a child.”
She stood and started to putter around me, tidying up. “Say what you want, Rowan. Your father tried to deny it too, at first. After he met your mother. I knew it from the moment I met that Charlie of yours that she’s the reason why you’ve been floating around the block looking so bewildered. So as much as I love when you stay here, you should fix whatever happened between the two of you. And fix it fast.”
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My red hair stuck out at every angle. I had half a beard on my jaw, and my eyes were bleary. I already knew that I was hopelessly in love with Charlie Maddox. Suspected, at times, that the whole anvil on my head thing was happening to me.
It was something else entirely, seeing the actual effects.
“I’m in love with Charlie,” I said over my shoulder. The words, out loud, sent my heart into fucking overdrive.
“Yes, I know dear, that’s what I just said.”
I laughed into my hands, half exhausted, half wired. A second later, I heard the screen door open and Dean’s voice.
“Yo, I got food here,” he called.
“He’s in there,” Alice said, in the loudest whisper I’d ever heard. “And he and Charlie are in love. He needs your help. Oh, look, your mother is here, and she looks like she has gossip.”
Dean strolled into the room, whistling. In his hand was a plate of breakfast casserole—eggs, cheese, bacon—and a large cup of coffee.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” I asked.
He set the food and coffee down and motioned me to stand. I did and he immediately pulled me in for a fast hug.
“I’m happy for you, Rowan,” he rumbled, then slapped me on my non-injured shoulder. “I’m sad to see Elaine go but also so glad you’re taking over.”
I sank back onto the couch, feeling like shit. Feeling guilty. And it must have showed on my face. Dean handed me the coffee and said, “What’s wrong, you don’t want the job now?”
“Nothin’s wrong. I, uh…I feel bad because I’ve been keeping a secret from you for weeks. Thought it was the right call but now I’m not so sure it was.”
“You mean because the board wanted to cut my job and the food program?”
I paused with the cup halfway to my mouth. “You knew?”
He shrugged. “Not officially, but I kinda guessed. Also, I’ve been guarding this knowledge about you for my entire life but…” A grin spread across his face. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Me? No way. What?”
“You’re not the worst I’ve ever seen? But you’re not great either. And I’m not stupid, Rowan. I’m the newest hire at a nonprofit with funding issues and whenever I brought it up, you’d always change the subject too fast.”
“Well, I’m sorry that I did,” I said. “Your job is secure, by the way. Yours, Eddie’s, and the rest of the food program. But until I knew for certain, I thought I’d be worrying you for no reason.”
I passed a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “Except if the board had forced the issue, they could have cut you at any time, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself, having you be surprised like that. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Dean sipped his coffee in silence, mulling this over. “I wasn’t worried. Or mad. I knew it would work out okay. You’re my brother, Rowan. We’ve been looking out for each other since we were four years old. Even if you had to move mountains with your bare hands, I trusted that you’d protect my job. Protect the program we’ve poured everything into.”
I tossed him a smile. “You’re givin’ me a whole lot of credit.”
“Yeah, but that’s what you did, wasn’t it?”
I nodded after a second. “I kept telling Luciana that cutting you, cutting Eddie, eliminating the program wasn’t an option. She agreed. The board did too, but it didn’t seem like there was a way to save it. When they asked me to apply, I told her that I wanted the job. And that you had to stay. I’ll need a few months to pull together an actual plan to refund the program, but I met Leonard and Gloria Wilkinson last night, and they asked if they could come out for a visit.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Those Philly donors that Elaine was always trying to meet? Damn, how’d that happen?”
I swallowed roughly. “Charlie introduced us.”
“Ah, I see. Remind me to thank Charlie the next time I see her.” He considered the couch and the disheveled pillows. “If Charlie did something cool, like set you up with one of the best donors in the city, why the hell did you sleep here last night?”
I settled back onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “We got into a fight. She and I tend to do this thing where we get vulnerable and then push people away. Or, in my case when it comes to dating, I never even start to let people in. I felt like she was running…from this, from us…and got scared. Then I might have pushed her a little too much without owning everything I’d done wrong too.”
I cast my eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not some saint now or anything, but when Charlie met me, I was, what, twenty-one? Twenty-two? It was peak fucking around time for me. She saw a lot of shit, and I wish I could go back in time and change it. But I can’t. I know that Charlie trusts me, know it ’cause I can feel it. When it comes to dating and being serious though? I can’t blame her for worrying I’ll bail when it gets hard. I’m worried she’ll do the same thing.”
I flashed him a grim smile. “We share a similar relationship pattern. When we were faking it for her reputation, it was easier to ignore all these little ways that we’d hurt each other in the past without realizing it.”
Dean sipped his coffee, nodded thoughtfully. “All the real-life issues are a challenge, that’s for sure. You’re starting to share a life together. There’s gonna be compromises and disagreements. Ways that you’ll miscommunicate and hurt each other. The difference is how you show up when it happens. Because if Charlie is like you, then she’s used to bouncing whenever things get complicated.”
I mentally tallied up the microscopic info I knew about her dating history and love life. “Yep. Yep, that sounds about right.”
He slowly spun his wedding ring. “For me, marrying Tabitha didn’t change much. Wedding or not, I’m committed to her forever. And if that’s the way you feel about Charlie, then you’ll figure out all the complicated stuff. The communicating and the compromising. You just have to stay and face it all together. One day at a time.”
A clever grin appeared on his face. “Have you reconsidered how many breakfasts you’d cook her in the morning?”
I huffed out a tired laugh. “I have and I swear to god, it’s like…a million. A million breakfasts. How do you get anything done now that you have Tabitha?”
“I stopped getting shit done like, six months after we started dating.” He inclined his head. “No offense to my new boss. Speaking of, should we head to work?”
I scrambled around for my phone. “We should because I guess I’m in charge now. But I should call Charlie first, right? I’ll call her now. Wait, should I though?”
Dean was pressing his lips together like he was desperately trying not to smile. “Let’s get to work first and then strategize your forgiveness tour. I would also take a shower and change, if I were you. You look like a damn anvil just fell on your head.”
29
CHARLIE
“What do you think?” I asked, holding up the door-sized poster. “Too cheesy? Or just cheesy enough?”
Tabitha peeked out from under Elaine’s—now Rowan’s—desk and flashed me a double thumbs up. “When it comes to little kids drawing signs, is there genuinely such a thing as too cheesy? Also, how did you get them to draw all of that so last minute?”
I peered down the hallway. The group of mostly third graders peeking at me from the playground shrieked with laughter and ran away. “It turns out there are tiny dirt bike racing fans everywhere. I walked out there to say hey, and a whole cluster of kids recognized me.”
